N or M_ - Agatha Christie [31]
He added quietly:
‘And so I think it would be best, perhaps, to end it all. Yes, to end it.’
Tuppence took hold of him firmly by the arm.
‘Nonsense,’ she said robustly. ‘Of course you feel as you do. Anyone would. But you’ve got to stick it.’
‘I wish they would intern me. It would be easier so.’
‘Yes, probably it would. But in the meantime you’re doing useful work–or so I’ve heard. Useful not only to England but to humanity. You’re working on decontamination problems, aren’t you?’
His face lit up slightly.
‘Ah yes, and I begin to have much success. A process very simple, easily made and not complicated to apply.’
‘Well,’ said Tuppence, ‘that’s worth doing. Anything that mitigates suffering is worthwhile–and anything that’s constructive and not destructive. Naturally we’ve got to call the other side names. They’re doing just the same in Germany. Hundreds of Major Bletchleys–foaming at the mouth. I hate the Germans myself. “The Germans,” I say, and feel waves of loathing. But when I think of individual Germans, mothers sitting anxiously waiting for news of their sons, and boys leaving home to fight, and peasants getting in the harvests, and little shopkeepers and some of the nice kindly German people I know, I feel quite different. I know then that they are just human beings and that we’re all feeling alike. That’s the real thing. The other is just the war mask that you put on. It’s a part of war–probably a necessary part–but it’s ephemeral.’
As she spoke she thought, as Tommy had done not long before, of Nurse Cavell’s words: ‘Patriotism is not enough. I must have no hatred in my heart.’
That saying of a most truly patriotic woman had always seemed to them both the high-water mark of sacrifice.
Carl von Deinim took her hand and kissed it. He said:
‘I thank you. What you say is good and true. I will have more fortitude.’
‘Oh, dear,’ thought Tuppence as she walked down the road into the town. ‘How very unfortunate that the person I like best in this place should be a German. It makes everything cock-eyed!’
III
Tuppence was nothing if not thorough. Although she had no wish to go to London, she judged it wise to do exactly as she had said she was going to do. If she merely made an excursion somewhere for the day, somebody might see her and the fact would get round to Sans Souci.
No, Mrs Blenkensop had said she was going to London, and to London she must go.
She purchased a third return, and was just leaving the booking-office window when she ran into Sheila Perenna.
‘Hallo,’ said Sheila. ‘Where are you off to? I just came to see about a parcel which seems to have gone astray.’
Tuppence explained her plans.
‘Oh, yes, of course,’ said Sheila carelessly. ‘I do remember you saying something about it, but I hadn’t realised it was today you were going. I’ll come and see you into the train.’
Sheila was more animated than usual. She looked neither bad-tempered nor sulky. She chatted quite amiably about small details of daily life at Sans Souci. She remained talking to Tuppence until the train left the station.
After waving from the window and watching the girl’s figure recede, Tuppence sat down in her corner seat again and gave herself up to serious meditation.
Was it, she wondered, an accident that Sheila had happened to be at the station just at that time? Or was it a proof of enemy thoroughness? Did Mrs Perenna want to make quite sure that the garrulous Mrs Blenkensop really had gone to London?
It looked very much like it.
IV
It was not until the next day that Tuppence was able to have a conference with Tommy. They had agreed never to attempt to communicate with each other under the roof of Sans Souci.
Mrs Blenkensop met Mr Meadowes as the latter, his hay fever somewhat abated, was taking a gentle stroll on the front. They sat down