on the island. Before me, on the rough
wooden table, is the letter that Suzanne
wrote me.
dear babes in the wood-dear lunatics
IN love,
I'm not surprised—not at all. All the time
we've been talking Paris and frocks I felt that
it wasn't a bit real—that you'd vanish into the
blue some day to be married over the tongs in
the good old gipsy fashion. But you are a
couple of lunatics! This idea of renouncing a
vast fortune is absurd. Colonel Race wanted
to argue the matter, but I have persuaded him
to leave the argument to time. He can
administer the estate for Harry—and none
better. Because, after all, honeymoons don't
last for ever—you're not here, Anne, so I can
safely say that without having you fly out at
me like a little wild-cat—Love in the
wilderness will last a good while, but one day
you will suddenly begin to dream of houses in
401
Park Lane, sumptuous furs, Paris frocks, the
largest thing in motors and the latest thing in
perambulators, French maids and Norland
nurses! Oh, yes, you will!
But have your honeymoon, dear lunatics,
and let it be a long one. And think of me
sometimes, comfortably putting on weight
amidst the fleshpots!
Your loving friend,
suzanne blair.
P.S.—I am sending you an assortment of
frying-pans as a wedding present, and an
enormous terrine of pate de foie gras to remind
you of me.
There is another letter that I sometimes
read. It came a good while after the other and
was accompanied by a bulky parcel. It
appeared to be written from somewhere in
Bolivia.
my dear anne beddingfield,
I can't resist writing to you, not so much
for the pleasure it gives me to write, as for the
enormous pleasure I know it will give you to
hear from me. Our friend Race wasn't quite
as clever as he thought himself, was he?
I think I shall appoint you my literary
402
executor. I'm sending you my diary. There's
nothing in it that would interest Race and his
crowd, but I fancy that there are passages in it
which may amuse you. Make use of it in any
way you like. I suggest an article for the Daily
Budget, "Criminals I have met." I only
stipulate that I shall be the central figure.
By this time I have no doubt that you are
no longer Anne Beddingfield, but Lady
Eardsley, queening it in Park Lane. I should
just like to say that I bear you no malice whatever.
It is hard, of course, to have to begin all
over again at my time of life, but, entre nous, I
had a little reserve fund carefully put aside
for such a contingency. It has come in very
usefully and I am getting together a nice little
connection. By the way, if you ever come
across the funny friend of yours, Arthur
Minks, just tell him that I haven't forgotten
him, will you? That will give him a nasty jar.
On the whole I think I have displayed a
most Christian and forgiving spirit. Even to
Pagett. I happened to hear that he--or rather
Mrs. Pagett--had brought a sixth child into
the world the other day. England will be
entirely populated by Pagetts soon. I sent the
child a silver mug, and, on a post card, declared my willingness to act as godfather. I
403
can see Pagett taking both mug and post card
straight to Scotland Yard without a smile on
his face!
Bless you, liquid eyes. Some day you will
see what a mistake you have made in not
marrying me.
Yours ever,
eustace pedler.
Harry was furious. It is the one point on
which he and I do not see eye to eye. To him,
Sir Eustace was the man who tried to murder
me and whom he regards as responsible for
the death of his friend. Sir Eustace's attempts
on my life have always puzzled me. They are
not in the picture, so to speak. For I am sure
that he always had a genuinely kindly feeling
towards me.
Then why did he twice attempt to take my
life? Harry says "because he's a damned
scoundrel," and seems to think that settles
the matter. Suzanne was more discriminating.
I talked it over with her, and she
put it down to a "fear complex." Suzanne
goes in rather for psycho-analysis. She
pointed out to me that Sir Eustace's whole
life was actuated by a desire to be safe and
comfortable. He had an acute sense of self404
preservation. And the murder of Nadina
removed certain inhibitions. His actions did
not represent the state of his feeling towards
me, but were the result of his acute fears for
his own safety. I think Suzanne is right. As
for Nadina, she was the kind of woman who
deserved to die. Men do all sorts of
questionable things in order to get rich, but
women shouldn't pretend to be in love when
they aren't for ulterior motives.
I can forgive Sir Eustace easily enough, but
I shall never forgive Nadina. Never, never
never!
The other day I was unpacking some tins
that were wrapped in bits of an old Daily
Budget, and I suddenly came upon the words,
"The Man in the Brown Suit." How long
ago it seemed! I had, of course, severed my
connection with the Daily Budget long ago—I
had done with it sooner than it had done with
me. my romantic wedding was given a
halo of publicity.
My son is lying in the sun, kicking his legs.
There's a "man in a brown suit" if you like.
He's wearing as little as possible, which is the
best costume for Africa, and is as brown as a
berry. He's always burrowing in the earth. I
405
think he takes after Papa. He'll have that
same mania for Pleistocene clay.
Suzanne sent me a cable when he was born:
"Congratulations and love to the latest
arrival on Lunatics' Island. Is his head
dolichocephalic or brachycephalic?"
I wasn't going to stand that from Suzanne.
I sent her a reply of one word, economical
and to the point:
"Platycephalic!"
A
THE END
Books by Agatha Christie in the
Ulverscroft Large Print Series:
POCKET FULL OF RYE
ORDEAL BY INNOCENCE
CAT AMONG THE PIGEONS
THE PALE HORSE
4.50 FROM PADDINGTON
MURDER ON THE ORIENT EXPRESS
THEY CAME TO BAGHDAD
A MURDER IS ANNOUNCED
MURDER IS EASY
THE MIRROR CRACK'D FROM SIDE TO SIDE
THEY DO IT WITH MIRRORS
CROOKED HOUSE
DEAD MAN'S FOLLY
DEATH IN THE CLOUDS
A CARIBBEAN MYSTERY
/>
THIRD GIRL
AT BERTRAM'S HOTEL
THE HOUND OF DEATH
AFTER THE FUNERAL
THE THIRTEEN PROBLEMS
DESTINATION UNKNOWN
MURDER IN MESOPOTAMIA
THE CLOCKS
CARDS ON THE TABLE
LORD EDGWARE DIES
THE MOVING FINGER
DEATH COMES AS THE END
DEATH ON THE NILE
EVIL UNDER THE SUN
TAKEN AT THE FLOOD
THE BODY IN THE LIBRARY
ENDLESS NIGHT
TOWARDS ZERO
THE MURDER OF ROGER ACKROYD
DUMB WITNESS
ONE, TWO, BUCKLE MY SHOE
THE SITTAFORD MYSTERY
WHY DIDN'T THEY ASK EVANS?
THE BIG FOUR
THE HOLLOW
THREE ACT TRAGEDY
APPOINTMENT WITH DEATH
SAD CYPRESS
THE MYSTERY OF THE BLUE TRAIN
NEMESIS
CURTAIN
THE MURDER ON THE LINKS
THE MYSTERIOUS MR. QUIN
SLEEPING MURDER
THE LABOURS OF HERCULES
PARKER PYNE INVESTIGATES
PERIL AT END HOUSE
SPARKLING CYANIDE
THE MURDER AT THE VICARAGE
THE ABC MURDERS
FIVE LITTLE PIGS
THE SECRET OF CHIMNEYS
THE SEVEN DIALS MYSTERY
THE MAN IN THE BROWN SUIT
Nonfiction AN AUTOBIOGRAPHY (2 volumes)
This book is published under the
auspices of the
ULVERSCROFT FOUNDATION,
a registered charity, whose primary object is
to assist those who experience difficulty in
reading print of normal size.
In response to approaches from the medical
world, the Foundation is also helping to purchase
the latest, most sophisticated medical
equipment desperately needed by major eye
hospitals for the diagnosis and treatment of
eye diseases.
If you would like to know more about the
ULVERSCROFT FOUNDATION,
and how you can help to further its work, please write for details to:
THE ULVERSCROFT FOUNDATION
The Green, Bradgate Road
Anstey
Leicestershire
England
AgathaChristie-TheManInTheBrownSuit Page 30