Destination Unknown - Agatha Christie [48]
‘Naturally not. Naturally. That is bound to be the case. There are hobbies, recreations, amusements, instructional courses. A wide field. You will find it, I hope, an agreeable life.’
‘As you do?’
It was a question, and rather an audacious one, and Hilary wondered a moment or two later whether she had been wise to ask it. But Dr Rubec merely seemed amused.
‘You are quite right, Madame,’ he said. ‘I find life here peaceful and interesting in the extreme.’
‘You don’t ever regret–Switzerland?’
‘I am not homesick. No. That is partly because, in my case, my home conditions were bad. I had a wife and several children. I was not cut out, Madame, to be a family man. Here conditions are infinitely more pleasant. I have ample opportunity of studying certain aspects of the human mind which interest me and on which I am writing a book. I have no domestic cares, no distractions, no interruptions. It all suits me admirably.’
‘And where do I go next?’ asked Hilary, as he rose and shook her courteously and formally by the hand.
‘Mademoiselle La Roche will take you to the dress department. The result, I am sure’–he bowed–‘will be admirable.’
After the severe Robot-like females she had met so far, Hilary was agreeably surprised by Mademoiselle La Roche. Mademoiselle La Roche had been a vendeuse in one of the Paris houses of haute couture and her manner was thrillingly feminine.
‘I am delighted, Madame, to make your acquaintance. I hope that I can be of assistance to you. Since you have just arrived and since you are, no doubt, tired, I would suggest that you select now just a few essentials. Tomorrow and indeed during the course of next week, you can examine what we have in stock at your leisure. It is tiresome, I always think, to have to select things rapidly. It destroys all the pleasure of la toilette. So I would suggest, if you agree, just a set of under-clothing, a dinner dress, and perhaps a tailleur.’
‘How delightful it sounds,’ said Hilary. ‘I cannot tell you how odd it feels to own nothing but a toothbrush and a sponge.’
Mademoiselle La Roche laughed cheeringly. She took a few rapid measures and led Hilary into a big department with built-in cupboards. There were clothes here of every description, made of good material and excellent cut and in a large variety of sizes. When Hilary had selected the essentials of la toilette, they passed on to the cosmetics department where Hilary made a selection of powders, creams and various other toilet accessories. These were handed to one of the assistants, a native girl with a shining dark face, dressed in spotless white, and she was instructed to see that they were delivered to Hilary’s apartment.
All these proceedings had seemed to Hilary more and more like a dream.
‘And we shall have the pleasure of seeing you again shortly, I hope,’ said Mademoiselle La Roche, gracefully. ‘It will be a great pleasure, Madame, to assist you to select from our models. Entre nous my work is sometimes disappointing. These scientific ladies often take very little interest in la toilette. In fact, not half an hour ago I had a fellow-traveller of yours.’
‘Helga Needheim?’
‘Ah yes, that was the name. She is, of course, a Boche, and the Boches are not sympathetic to us. She is not actually bad-looking if she took a little care of her figure; if she chose a flattering line she could look very well. But no! She has no interest in clothes. She is a doctor, I understand. A specialist of some kind. Let us hope she takes more interest in her patients than she does in her toilette–Ah! that one, what man will look at her twice?’
Miss Jennson, the thin, dark, spectacled girl who had met the party on arrival, now entered the fashion salon.
‘Have you finished here, Mrs Betterton?’ she asked.
‘Yes, thank you,’ said Hilary.
‘Then perhaps you will come and see the Deputy Director.’
Hilary said au revoir to Mademoiselle La Roche and followed the earnest Miss Jennson.
‘Who is the Deputy