Towards Zero - Agatha Christie [27]
“Ah,” she said, “I’ve enjoyed myself! There’s nothing like exchanging gossip and remembering old scandals.”
“A little malice,” agreed Mr. Treves, “adds a certain savour to life.”
“By the way,” said Lady Tressilian, “what do you think of our example of the eternal triangle?”
Mr. Treves looked discreetly blank. “Er—what triangle?”
“Don’t tell me you haven’t noticed it! Nevile and his wives.”
“Oh that! The present Mrs. Strange is a singularly attractive young woman.”
“So is Audrey,” said Lady Tressilian.
Mr. Treves admitted: “She has charm—yes.”
Lady Tressilian exclaimed:
“Do you mean to tell me you can understand a man leaving Audrey, who is a—a person of rare quality—for—for a Kay?”
Mr. Treves replied calmly:
“Perfectly. It happens frequently.”
“Disgusting. I should soon grow tired of Kay if I were a man and wish I had never made such a fool of myself!”
“That also happens frequently. These sudden passionate infatuations,” said Mr. Treves, looking very passionless and precise himself, “are seldom of long duration.”
“And then what happens?” demanded Lady Tressilian.
“Usually,” said Mr. Treves, “the—er—parties adjust themselves. Quite often there is a second divorce. The man then marries a third party—someone of a sympathetic nature.”
“Nonsense! Nevile isn’t a Mormon—whatever some of your clients may be!”
“The remarriage of the original parties occasionally takes place.”
Lady Tressilian shook her head.
“That no! Audrey has too much pride.”
“You think so?”
“I am sure of it. Do not shake your head in that aggravating fashion!”
“It has been my experience,” said Mr. Treves, “that women possess little or no pride where love affairs are concerned. Pride is a quality often on their lips, but not apparent in their actions.”
“You don’t understand Audrey. She was violently in love with Nevile. Too much so, perhaps. After he left her for this girl (though I don’t blame him entirely—the girl pursued him everywhere, and you know what men are!) she never wanted to see him again.”
Mr. Treves coughed gently:
“And yet,” he said, “she is here!”
“Oh well,” said Lady Tressilian, annoyed. “I don’t profess to understand these modern ideas. I imagine that Audrey is here just to show that she doesn’t care, and that it doesn’t matter!”
“Very likely,” Mr. Treves stroked his jaw. “She can put it to herself that way, certainly.”
“You mean,” said Lady Tressilian, “that you think she is still hankering after Nevile and that—oh no! I won’t believe such a thing!”
“It could be,” said Mr. Treves.
“I won’t have it,” said Lady Tressilian. “I won’t have it in my house.”
“You are already disturbed, are you not?” asked Mr. Treves shrewdly. “There is tension. I have felt it in the atmosphere.”
“So you feel it too?” said Lady Tressilian sharply.
“Yes, I am puzzled, I must confess. The true feelings of the parties remain obscure, but in my opinion, there is gunpowder about. The explosion may come any minute.”
“Stop talking like Guy Fawkes and tell me what to do,” said Lady Tressilian.
Mr. Treves held up his hands.
“Really, I am at a loss to know what to suggest. There is, I feel sure, a focal point. If we could isolate that—but there is so much that remains obscure.”
“I have no intention of asking Audrey to leave,” said Lady Tressilian. “As far as my observation goes, she has behaved perfectly in a very difficult situation. She has been courteous, but aloof. I consider her conduct irreproachable.”
“Oh quite,” said Mr. Treves. “Quite. But it’s having a most marked effect on young Nevile Strange all the same.”
“Nevile,” said Lady Tressilian, “is not behaving well. I shall speak to him about it. But I couldn’t turn him out of the house for a moment. Matthew regarded him as practically his adopted son.”
“I know.”
Lady Tressilian sighed. She said in a lowered voice:
“You know that Matthew was drowned here?”
“Yes.”
“So many people have been surprised at my remaining here. Stupid of them. I have always felt Matthew near to me here. The whole house is full of him. I should feel lonely and strange anywhere else.” She paused, and went