Copyright
Published by HarperCollinsPublishers Ltd 1 London Bridge Street London SE1 9GF
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First published in Great Britain by Collins 1929
Copyright © 1929 Agatha Christie Ltd
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Agatha Christie asserts the moral right to be identified as the author of this work
A catalogue copy of this book is available from the British Library.
This novel is entirely a work of fiction. The names, characters and incidents portrayed in it are the work of the authorâs imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or localities is entirely coincidental.
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Source ISBN: 9780007111503
Ebook Edition © NOVEMBER 2010 ISBN: 9780007422678
Version: 2017-04-17
Chapter 1
A Fairy in the Flat
Mrs Thomas Beresford shifted her position on the divan and looked gloomily out of the window of the flat. The prospect was not an extended one, consisting solely of a small block of flats on the other side of the road. Mrs Beresford sighed and then yawned.
âI wish,â she said, âsomething would happen.â
Her husband looked up reprovingly.
âBe careful, Tuppence, this craving for vulgar sensation alarms me.â
Tuppence sighed and closed her eyes dreamily.
âSo Tommy and Tuppence were married,â she chanted, âand lived happily ever afterwards. And six years later they were still living together happily ever afterwards. It is extraordinary,â she said, âhow different everything always is from what you think it is going to be.â
âA very profound statement, Tuppence. But not original. Eminent poets and still more eminent divines have said it before â and if you will excuse me saying so, have said it better.â
âSix years ago,â continued Tuppence, âI would have sworn that with sufficient money to buy things with, and with you for a husband, all life would have been one grand sweet song, as one of the poets you seem to know so much about puts it.â
âIs it me or the money that palls upon you?â inquired Tommy coldly.
âPalls isnât exactly the word,â said Tuppence kindly. âIâm used to my blessings, thatâs all. Just as one never thinks what a boon it is to be able to breathe through oneâs nose until one has a cold in the head.â
âShall I neglect you a little?â suggested Tommy. âTake other women about to night clubs. That sort of thing.â
âUseless,â said Tuppence. âYou would only meet me there with other men. And I should know perfectly well that you didnât care for the other women, whereas you would never be quite sure that I didnât care for the other men. Women are so much more thorough.â
âItâs only in modesty that men score top marks,â murmured her husband. âBut what is the matter with you, Tuppence? Why this yearning discontent?â
âI donât know. I want things to happen. Exciting things. Wouldnât you like to go chasing German spies again, Tommy? Think of the wild days of peril we went through once. Of course I know youâre more or less in the Secret Service now, but itâs pure office work.â
âYou mean youâd like them to send me into darkest Russia disguised as a Bolshevik bootlegger, or something of that sort?â
âThat wouldnât be any good,â said Tuppence. âThey wouldnât let me go with you and Iâm the person who wants something to do so badly. Something to do. That is what I keep saying all day long.â
âWomenâs sphere,â suggested Tommy, waving his hand.
âTwenty minutesâ work after breakfast every morning keeps the flag going to perfection. You have nothing to complain of, have you?â
âYour housekeeping is so perfect, Tuppence, as to be almost monotonous.â