The Murder at the Vicarage by Agatha Christie

     his intention of visiting the Vicarage with the inspector.
    “I'm going to the police station now.”
    As I entered through the front door a murmur of voices caught my ear. I opened the
     drawing?room door.
    On the sofa beside Griselda, conversing animatedly, sat Miss Gladys Cram. Her legs, which
     were encased in particularly shiny pink stockings, were crossed, and I had every
     opportunity of observing that she wore pink striped silk knickers.
    “Hullo, Len,” said Griselda.
    “Good?morning, Mr. Clement,” said Miss Cram. “Isn't the news about the colonel really too
     awful? Poor old gentleman.”
    “Miss Cram,” said my wife, “very kindly came in to offer to help us with the Guides. We
     asked for helpers last Sunday, you remember.”
    I did remember, and I was convinced, and so, I knew from her tone, was Griselda, that the
     idea of enrolling herself among them would never have occurred to Miss Cram but for the
     exciting incident which had taken place at the Vicarage.
    “I was only just saying to Mrs. Clement,” went on Miss Cram, “you could have struck me all
     of a heap when I heard the news. A murder? I said. In this quiet one?horse village Ñ for
     quiet it is, you must admit Ñ not so much as a picture house, and as for Talkies! And then
     when I heard it was Colonel Protheroe Ñ why, I simply couldn't believe it. He didn't seem
     the kind, somehow, to get murdered.”
    ''And so,“ said Griselda, ”Miss Cram came round to find out all about it."
    I feared this plain speaking might offend the lady, but she merely flung her head back and
     laughed uproariously, showing every tooth she possessed.
    “That's too bad. You're a sharp one, aren't you, Mrs. Clement? But it's only natural,
     isn't it, to want to hear the ins and out of a case like this? And I'm sure I'm willing
     enough to help with the Guides in any way you like. Exciting, that's what it is. I've been
     stagnating for a bit of fun. I have, really I have. Not that my job isn't a very good one,
     well paid, and Dr. Stone quite the gentleman in every way. But a girl wants a bit of life
     out of office hours, and except for you, Mrs. Clement, who is there in the place to talk
     to except a lot of old cats?”
    “There's Lettice Protheroe,” I said.
    Gladys Cram tossed her head.
    “She's too high and mighty for the likes of me. Fancies herself the county, and wouldn't
     demean herself by noticing a girl who had to work for her living. Not but what I
    
    
     did
    
    
     hear her talking of earning her living herself. And who'd employ her, I should like to
     know? Why, she'd be fired in less than a week. Unless she went as one of those mannequins,
     all dressed up and sidling about. She could do that, I expect.”
    “She'd make a very good mannequin,” said Griselda. “She's got such a lovely figure.”
     There's nothing of the cat about Griselda. “When was she talking of earning her own
     living?”
    Miss Cram seemed momentarily discomfited, but recovered herself with her usual archness.
    “That would be telling, wouldn't it?” she said. “But she did say so. Things not very happy
     at home, I fancy. Catch me living at home with a stepmother. I wouldn't sit down under it
     for a minute.”
    “Ah! but you're so high spirited and independent,” said Griselda gravely, and I looked at
     her with suspicion.
    Miss Cram was clearly pleased.
    “That's right. That's me all over. Can be led, not driven. A palmist told me that not so
     very long ago. No. I'm not one to sit down and be bullied. And I've made it clear all
     along to Dr. Stone that I must have my regular times off. These scientific gentlemen, they
     think a girl's a kind of machine Ñ half the time they just don't notice her or remember
     she's there.”
    “Do you find Dr. Stone pleasant to work with? It must be an interesting job if you are
     interested in arch¾ology.”
    “Of course, I don't know much about it,” confessed the girl. “It