TheHollow_AHerculePoirotMystery - (EPUB全文下载)

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Agatha Christie
The Hollow
A Hercule Poirot Mystery
Dedication
For Larry and Danae With apologies for using their swimming pool as the scene of a murder
Contents
Cover
Title Page
Dedication
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
Chapter Twenty-Two
Chapter Twenty-Three
Chapter Twenty-Four
Chapter Twenty-Five
Chapter Twenty-Six
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Chapter Thirty
About the Author
Other Books by Agatha Christie
Credits
Copyright
About the Publisher
One
At six thirteen a.m. on a Friday morning Lucy Angkatell’s big blue eyes opened upon another day and, as always, she was at once wide awake and began immediately to deal with the problems conjured up by her incredibly active mind. Feeling urgently the need of consultation and conversation, and selecting for the purpose her young cousin, Midge Hardcastle, who had arrived at The Hollow the night before, Lady Angkatell slipped quickly out of bed, threw a négligée round her still graceful shoulders, and went along the passage to Midge’s room. Since she was a woman of disconcertingly rapid thought processes, Lady Angkatell, as was her invariable custom, commenced the conversation in her own mind, supplying Midge’s answers out of her own fertile imagination.
The conversation was in full swing when Lady Angkatell flung open Midge’s door.
“—And so, darling, you really must agree that the weekend is going to present difficulties!”
“Eh? Hwah!” Midge grunted inarticulately, aroused thus abruptly from a satisfying and deep sleep.
Lady Angkatell crossed to the window, opening the shutters and jerking up the blind with a brisk movement, letting in the pale light of a September dawn.
“Birds!” she observed, peering with kindly pleasure through the pane. “So sweet.”
“What?”
“Well, at any rate, the weather isn’t going to present difficulties. It looks as though it has set in fine. That’s something. Because if a lot of discordant personalities are boxed up indoors, I’m sure you will agree with me that it makes it ten times worse. Round games perhaps, and that would be like last year when I shall never forgive myself about poor Gerda. I said to Henry afterwards it was most thoughtless of me—and one has to have her, of course ............

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