Read the book: «Death by Drowning: A Miss Marple Short Story»
Death by Drowning
A Short Story
by Agatha Christie
Copyright
Published by HarperCollinsPublishers Ltd 1 London Bridge Street London SE1 9GF www.harpercollins.co.uk
Copyright © 2008 Agatha Christie Ltd.
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Ebook Edition © OCTOBER 2013 ISBN 9780007526734
Version: 2017-04-11
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Contents
Cover
Title Page
Copyright
Death by Drowning
Related Products
About the Publisher
Death by Drowning
‘Death by Drowning’ was first published in Nash’s Pall Mall, November 1931.
Sir Henry Clithering, Ex-Commissioner of Scotland Yard, was staying with his friends the Bantrys at their place near the little village of St Mary Mead.
On Saturday morning, coming down to breakfast at the pleasant guestly hour of ten-fifteen, he almost collided with his hostess, Mrs Bantry, in the doorway of the breakfast room. She was rushing from the room, evidently in a condition of some excitement and distress.
Colonel Bantry was sitting at the table, his face rather redder than usual.
‘’Morning, Clithering,’ he said. ‘Nice day. Help yourself.’
Sir Henry obeyed. As he took his seat, a plate of kidneys and bacon in front of him, his host went on:
‘Dolly’s a bit upset this morning.’
‘Yes – er – I rather thought so,’ said Sir Henry mildly.
He wondered a little. His hostess was of a placid disposition, little given to moods or excitement. As far as Sir Henry knew, she felt keenly on one subject only – gardening.
‘Yes,’ said Colonel Bantry. ‘Bit of news we got this morning upset her. Girl in the village – Emmott’s daughter – Emmott who keeps the Blue Boar.’
‘Oh, yes, of course.’
‘Ye-es,’ said Colonel Bantry ruminatively. ‘Pretty girl. Got herself into trouble. Usual story. I’ve been arguing with Dolly about that. Foolish of me. Women never see sense. Dolly was all up in arms for the girl – you know what women are – men are brutes – all the rest of it, etcetera. But it’s not so simple as all that – not in these days. Girls know what they’re about. Fellow who seduces a girl’s not necessarily a villain. Fifty-fifty as often as not. I rather liked young Sandford myself. A young ass rather than a Don Juan, I should have said.’
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