Towards Zero by Agatha Christie Page A

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 on. ”I hoped at first that it might not be very long before I joined him. Especially when my health began to fail. But it seems I am one of these creaking gates - these perpetual invalids who never die." She thumped her pillow angrily.
    “It doesn't please me, I can tell you! I always hoped that when my time came, it would come quickly - that I should meet Death face to face - not feel him gradually creeping along behind me, always at my shoulder - gradually forcing me to sink to one indignity after another of illness. Increasing helplessness -increasing dependence on other people!”
    “But very devoted people, I am sure. You have a faithful maid?”
    “Barrett? The one who brought you up. The comfort of my life! A grim old battle-axe, absolutely devoted. She's been with me for years.”
    '“And you are lucky, I should say, in having Miss Aldin.” “You are right. I am lucky in having Mary.” “She is a relation?”
    “A distant cousin. One of those selfless creatures whose lives are continually being sacrificed to those of other people. She looked after her father - a clever man - but terribly exacting. When he died I begged her to make her home with me, and I have blessed the day she came to me. You've no idea what horrors most companions are. Futile, boring creatures. Driving one mad with their inanity. They are companions because they are fit for nothing better. To have Mary, who is a well-read, intelligent woman, is marvellous. She has really a first-class brain - a man's brain. She has read widely and deeply and there is nothing she cannot discuss. And she is as clever domestically as she is intellectually. She runs the house perfectly and keeps the servants happy - she eliminates all quarrels and jealousies -I don't know how she