In outward seeming they were as the lilies that
toiled not, neither did they spin. But perhaps this
was not quite true. There are divers ways of toiling
and also of spinning.
"Here's the kid back again," said Evan Llewellyn
to Mrs. Rustington.
He was a dark young man--there was a faintly
6
Agatha Christie
hungry wolfish look about him which some women
found attractive.
It was difficult to say whether Mrs. Rustington
found him so. She did not wear her heart on her
sleeve. She had married young--and the marriage
had ended in disaster in less than a year. Since that
time it was difficult to know what Janet Rusting-ton
thought of anyone or anything--her manner
was always the same--charming but completely
aloof.
Eve Leathern came dancing up to them, her
lank fair hair bobbing excitedly. She was fifteen--an
awkward child--but full of vitality.
"I'm going to be married by the time I'm seventeen,"
she exclaimed breathlessly. "To a very rich
man and we're going to have six children and
Tuesdays and Thursdays are my lucky days and I
ought always to wear green or blue and an emerald
is my lucky stone and--"
"Why, pet, I think we ought to be getting
along," said her father.