Chapter 2 Chapter two

"You still live in lovely St. Mary Mead, I suppose?" said Mrs. Selina. "It's such a sweet and peaceful village! I think of it often, and I suppose it's the same?" "Well, it's not quite the same." Miss Marple thought of certain aspects of where she lived, the new housing complex, the extension to the town hall, the trendy store frontage that had changed Highway Street beyond recognition—she sighed . "I think people have to accept change." "Progress," Mrs. Selina mumbled, "although it doesn't seem like much progress to me. Look at all the nice plumbing they're doing now. All sorts of colors, they call it 'finishing' '——It looks good, but which one of those push buttons really works with a "pick" or a "push"? Every time you go to a friend's house, you will see this type of thing in the bathroom Markings - 'squeeze press, release', 'pull to the left', 'snap release'. But in the past, you just pulled the handle casually and water would immediately flow like a waterfall - this It's the dear Archbishop of Maidgate." As a handsome elderly priest passed by, Mrs. Selina stopped and said, "I think he's almost blind, but a great fighting spirit." Father."

A short conversation about the clergy began, interspersed with Mrs. Selina's greetings to a number of friends and acquaintances, many of whom were not who she thought they were.She and Miss Marple talked about "the old days" for a while, but Miss Marple and Mrs. Selina had very different life experiences, and their nostalgia was limited to a few years when the newly widowed and hard-pressed Selina During the days when the lady lived in a small house in the village of St. Mary Mead, her second son was stationed at a nearby Air Force base. "Do you always live here when you come to London, Jane? Strange, how come I never saw you here before?"

"Oh, no. I can't afford it, and besides, I hardly ever leave home these days. No, it's a kind niece of mine who thinks it would be a pleasure for me to visit London." Pleasure. Joan is a good girl--maybe barely a girl." Miss Marple thought uneasily that Joan would be approaching fifty by now. "You know, she's a painter, a well-known painter. Joan West. She just had an exhibition not long ago." Mrs. Selina wasn't interested in painters, in fact she wasn't interested in anything about art.She thought writers, artists, and musicians were intelligent show animals; she was more forgiving of them, and wondered inwardly why they wanted to do what they did.

"I think these fashionable people," she said, with wandering eyes, "that's Cicely Longhurst—I think she's dyed her hair again." "I'm afraid dear Joan is quite fashionable." On this point Miss Marple was dead wrong.Joan West, who was fashionable twenty years ago, is now regarded as a complete antiquity by a younger generation of nouveau riche artists. Miss Marple cast a brief glance at Cicely Longhurst's hair, and again she sank into blissful memories of how kind Joan had been.Joan once said to her husband: "I wish we could do something for poor old aunt Jane. She never left home. Would you say she would like to go to Bournemouth for a week or two?"

"Good idea," said Raymond West.He had written his last book very successfully, so he was in a pretty good mood. "I think she enjoyed that trip to the West Indies, although unfortunately she got involved in a murder, which is not a good thing for a person of her age." "It seems like that happens to her all the time." Raymond was very fond of his old aunt, and often arranged entertainments for her, and gave her books which he thought might interest her.To his amazement she often politely declines these treats, and though she always says the books are "very wonderful," he sometimes suspects that she has never read them.Of course, her eyesight is getting worse and worse.

On the last point, he was wrong.Miss Marple's eyesight was very good for her age, and she followed with keen interest and pleasure everything that happened around her. She hesitated a little at Joan's offer of a week or two in one of the best hotels in Bournemouth, and murmured, "It's so, so kind of you, my dear, but I really don't want to..." "But it's good for you, Aunt Jane. It's good to get away from home now and then. It will give you new thoughts, new things to think about." "Ah, yes, you're quite right, I'd love to go out and get my fix. Maybe not Bournemouth, though."

Joan was a little surprised. She thought Bournemouth was the place Aunt Jane wanted to go most. "Bournemouth? Or Torquay?" "Where I really want to go is—" Miss Marple hesitated. "where?" "I think you'll think I'm stupid." "No, I promise not." (Where does the old lady want to go?) "I really want to go to Bertram's Hotel—in London." "Bertram Hotel?" The name was vaguely familiar. Miss Marple eagerly poured out the words. "I lived there once—when I was fourteen. It was with my aunt and uncle, Uncle Thomas, who was the priest of Ely. I never forgot the experience. If I could live there — a week is enough — two weeks might be too expensive.”

"Oh, that's all right, of course you'll go. I should have thought you might go to London—there are shops and all. We'll arrange everything—if Bertram's Hotel is still there. So many hotels are It has disappeared, either destroyed by war or closed down." "No, I happen to know that Bertram's Hotel is still open. I have a letter from there--from my American friend, Amy McAllister of Boston. She and her husband were live there." "Very well, then I'll go ahead and get everything in order," she went on softly. "I'm afraid you'll find it's a lot different than when you knew it, so don't be disappointed."

But the Patron Hotel has not changed.It's exactly what it used to be.In Miss Marple's opinion, it was too wonderful.In fact, she suspects... It was all too good to be true.With her usual sharp instincts, she knew she was just trying to make old memories shine again.Much of her life was inevitably spent remembering the joys of the past.If you can remember with others, that is true happiness.It is not so easy now, when most of her contemporaries are dead.And she still sat there remembering.Strangely enough, everything now seemed to bring her back to life—Jane Marple, the rosy, fair, eager little girl...a silly girl in many ways...and the one with The name of the young man who was so incongruous in himself was--oh, God, she couldn't remember it now!

How wise her mother had been so determined to nip their friendship in the bud!She had run into him many years later--what an awful look he was! She cried herself to sleep for at least a week then! Of course, now—she thought, now... these poor little things, some of them have mothers, but never good mothers—they can't protect their daughters from foolish love affairs, illegitimate children, and premature childbirth. Unhappy marriage.This is so sad. These meditations were interrupted by her friend's voice. "Why, I never did. That's—yes, that's right—Bess Sedgwick's over there! The most unlikely place—"

Mrs. Selina's comments on the surrounding things have always been half-heard by Miss Marple.She and Miss Marple thought so differently that it was impossible for Miss Marple to tell her anecdotes about the many friends and acquaintances Mrs. Selina recognized or thought she recognized. But Bess Sedgwick was different.Bess Sedgwick is an almost household name in England.For more than three decades, the press has covered Bess.Sedgshank did something monstrous or remarkable of one kind or another.She was a member of the French Aid Corps for much of the war and is said to have had six dents on her gun, representing the Germans she had killed.A few years ago she flew across the Atlantic alone, rode across the European continent, and reached Lake Van in Turkey; She is said to be the second best dressed woman in Europe.She is also said to have successfully sneaked aboard a nuclear submarine during trials. So, with keen interest, Miss Marple straightened up and stared at it frankly and eagerly. Whatever she had expected from Bertram's Hotel, she would never have expected to see Bess Sedgwick there.Luxurious nightclubs, truckers cafes – any one of them would cater to Bess Sedgwick's wide range of interests.But such a prestigious and quaint hotel seemed really out of place with her. And yet she was there - there was no doubt about it.Rarely does a month go by without the face of Bess Sedgwick appearing in a trendy magazine or a popular publication.Here she was, alive and well, puffing impatiently and hurriedly on a cigarette, looking at a large tray in front of her with a surprised expression, as if she had never seen a tray before.She ordered—Miss Marple squinted her eyes to discern—they were not close—yes, she ordered donuts.Interesting. She watched Bess Sedgwick put out his cigarette on the small plate, pick up a bagel, and take a big bite, sending a stream of red herb sauce gushing down her chin.Bess threw his head back and laughed loudly. It had been a long time since such a loud and happy laughter had been heard in the lounge of the Bertram Hotel. Henry appeared next to her immediately, handing over a dainty little napkin.She takes it, rubs her chin like a schoolboy, and exclaims, "That's what I call a real donut! It's great!" She threw the napkin on the tray and stood up.As usual, all eyes were on her.She's used to it.Maybe she likes it, maybe she doesn't pay attention to it anymore.She's worth seeing--not so much that she's beautiful as she is attention-getting.Hair like natural gold, flowing smoothly and neatly to the shoulders, the skull and facial bones are delicate and moving, the nose is slightly aquiline, and the eye sockets are deep-set, and the eyeballs are pure gray.She has the wide mouth of a natural comedian.The simplicity of her attire confuses most men. The suit looked like the roughest sackcloth, with no trim, no obvious buttons, seams or anything like that.But women know better, even old ladies out of town in Bertram know, and are quite sure, that the dress is worth a fortune! Striding across the foyer to the elevator, she passed Mrs. Selina and Miss Marple.She nodded to the former. "Hello, Mrs. Selina. Haven't seen you since Crufts. How's the Boživas family?" "What are you doing here, Bess?" "Just live here. I just drove over from Rand. It took me four hours and three quarters. Not bad." "One day you will harm yourself, or you will harm others." "Oh, I hope not." "But why do you live here?" Bess Sedgwick glanced quickly around.She seemed to understand the implication, and responded with a mocking smile. "Someone told me I should come here and try it. I think they're right. I just had the most amazing donuts." "Honey, they still have real muffins." "Muffins," said Mrs. Sedgwick thoughtfully, "yes..." She seemed to agree. "muffin!" She nodded and continued walking towards the elevator. "Extraordinary girl," Mrs. Selina said.To her, like Miss Marple, any woman under sixty was a girl. "I've known her since she was a child. No one could do anything with her. Eloped with an Irish groom at sixteen and they got her back in time—maybe not. They paid him anyway. Sent her off to marry old Coniston firmly—he was thirty years her senior, a good-for-nothing old wretch, and there was nothing he could do with her. The marriage didn't last long. She and Johnny Sedgwick ran away. They might still be together if he hadn't broken his neck in show jumping. She married Ridgway Becker, owner of the American yacht Master. He divorced her three years ago. I hear she's been hanging out with some racing driver—something like a Pole. I don't know if she's married at all. After divorcing the American, she resumed calling herself For Sedgwick. She hangs around with the most unusual people. It is said that she was on drugs... I don't know, definitely not. " "I don't know if she's happy," said Miss Marple. Mrs. Selina was amazed that she had apparently never considered such a question. "I think she must have a lot of money," she said skeptically, "divorce alimony or something. Of course, that doesn't mean everything..." "No, it's not." "And she always has a man—or several men—following her." "yes?" "Of course, once some women get to that age, it's all they need...but anyway..." She stopped. "No," said Miss Marple, "I don't think so either." One might kindly laugh at the statements of such an old-fashioned old lady, who can hardly be considered an authority on erotomania.In fact, Miss Marple wouldn't have used such a word—in her own words it would have been "always too interested in men." But Mrs. Selina took her opinion as proof of her own. "She does have a lot of men in her life," she points out. "Oh, yes, but I mean, don't you think men are more of an adventure to her than a need?" What woman, Miss Marple wondered, would come to the Bertram Hotel for a tryst with a man?Bertram's Hotel was definitely not that kind of place.But for someone of Bess Sedgwick's personality, that might be exactly why she chose this place. She sighed, looked up at the beautiful and ancient clock ticking methodically in the corner, and stood up cautiously enduring rheumatism.She walked slowly to the elevator.Mrs. Selina glanced around and saw an elderly military gentleman reading The Spectator. "Nice to see you again. Well, it's General Arrington, isn't it?" But the gentleman politely denied being General Arlington.Mrs. Selina apologized without being too embarrassing.She is myopic and optimistic all in one. Since seeing old friends and acquaintances is one of the greatest pleasures she can enjoy, she always has to make this mistake.Because the light is dim—it is pleasant to recognize people in this way, and it is blocked by many people. Many other people also make this mistake.But no one was ever offended - in fact it always seemed to bring them joy. Miss Marple smiled secretly as she waited for the elevator to come down.That's it for Celina!Always believe that you know everyone.I can't compare to her. Her only success in this respect was the recognition of the handsome Archbishop of Westchester, with his rather well-putted leggings.She called him affectionately "Dear Robbie," and he responded with just as fondness, recalling how, as a little boy, he happily shouted "become a crocodile" in the vicarage in Hampshire. Come on, Aunt Jenny. Become a crocodile and eat me." The elevator came down, and a middle-aged man in uniform opened the door.To Miss Marple's surprise, the passenger who came out was Bess Sedgwick, whom she had seen had boarded only a few minutes earlier. Immediately afterwards, one foot was stabilized, and Bess Sedgwick stopped abruptly. Her movement was so sudden that Miss Marple was taken aback, and her own steps faltered.Bess Sedgwick was looking intently over Miss Marple's shoulder, and his concentration caused the old lady to turn her head too. The doorman had just pushed open the two swing doors at the entrance, and was pulling the doors to let the two ladies enter the rest hall.One of them was a nervous middle-aged woman wearing a very inappropriate printed purple hat; Long yellow hair. Bess Sedgwick collected himself, turned around suddenly, and went back into the elevator again.When Miss Marple followed in, she turned and apologized. "I'm so sorry I almost ran into you," her voice was warm and friendly, "I suddenly remembered that I forgot something—it sounds ridiculous, but it's true." "Third floor?" asked the elevator operator.Miss Marple smiled and nodded in acceptance of the apology.She got out of the elevator and walked slowly back to her room.It was a long habit of hers to play happily with all sorts of insignificant problems in her mind. For example, Mrs. Sedgwick is not telling the truth.She had just come upstairs to her room, and at that moment she must have "remembered to forget something" (if there was any truth in her words), and had come down to look for it.Or was she originally down to meet someone or something?But if that's the case, she's shocked and disturbed by what she sees when the elevator doors open, so she immediately backs into the elevator and goes back upstairs, so as not to meet whoever she sees. It must be the two newcomers.That middle-aged woman and that girl. Mother and daughter?No, thought Miss Marple, not mother and daughter. Even in Bertram, Miss Marple thought happily, interesting things could happen...