Book: The murder at the Vicarage. Page 1

It might be all right, ' he growled. - Talk about all these lofty matters, about books, about art. And I sit open-mouthed and feel like idiot.

Feelings of the crowd is something inexplicable and horrible.

That night by the will of God had to preach ex tempore, and when I looked at the sea raised me individuals, my brain is flooded with madness. In me nothing is left of the servant of God. I became an actor. I was looking at the audience, and I longed for the power over the feelings of the public, more than that - I felt this power in my hands.
I ought not to be proud of what I did that night. I have always been a serious opponent of emotions, all sorts of sectarian zeal. But this evening I played the role of a boisterous, eloquent preacher.

The Church was full of people. It is unlikely that such an unusual gathering of the faithful could be attributed to the desire to hear the preaching of house. Howse had a boring dogmatist.
And if they managed to check up on what I say instead of house, it also could not attract them. My academic preaching is not less tedious. I'm afraid that to attribute this crowded religious zeal, too, is impossible.
I decided that all came to see who else will be in the Church, and perhaps a little gossip after the service.

- The truth, sir, I heard - someone!-like sneeze! And that sneeze was not easy, no not easy.
Everything associated with the murder is not simple, but special. And the shot was something special. Sneezed and someone somehow unusually. I think it was the corporate sneezing, especially for murderers.

But you don't let me being interrogated by the police? - plaintively said miss Wetherby, clutching my arm with both hands. - I can't stand, absolutely can't stand the crowd. And to stand before the court!..
- In special cases - said I, - they allow the witness to sit. Had slipped away.

- You can't tell me from whom you heard it?
- I promised, dear Mr. Clement. And honestly for me the Shrine. - She took extremely serious. - Let's say I told a little bird, okay? It would be quieter, isn't it?
I really wanted to say: "Damn stupid!" Sorry that I did. I would like to see how it will work on miss Wetherby.
- So, this little bird has told me that she saw one lady who I won't mention.
- So, I saw another bird? - I asked.

Very hard to keep track when miss Hartnell moves from presentation of facts to the reproach of others.

- Quite naturally, I think, to fight for my life, - I said thoughtfully.
- If you only knew how many murderers walk free by the grace of the kind the jury, grimly told the inspector, ' you'd be amazed.

- Do you think I said, that this silly girl has to do with the murder?
- There is nothing easier than to introduce myself a fool. Breeze.

The man who is always and everywhere, as if on purpose, restores the people against themselves, do not have to wait for them a good relationship.

- That's right, uncle Len, but I was thinking... When the time comes to get married, you know, to marry a good girl, you have to be rich.
Your theory is not supported by the facts - I said.

You see, if your subconscious mind longed for his death, it would not have admitted that you spoke out loud.

- I believe St Mary's Mead, pointedly rapped he puddle with standing water.
He looked at everyone defiantly, waiting for objections, but no one protested; I think it disappointed him.
The comparison is not very good, dear Raymond, quickly said miss Marple. - I think if you look through a microscope at a drop of water from stagnant puddles, life is there, on the contrary, and boils.
- Certainly, it is teeming with every detail - said the writer.
- But it's also life, in principle, little different from any other, ' said miss Marple.
- You equate yourself with infusoria from stagnant puddles, aunt Jane?
- My dear, this is the main idea of your latest novel, I remembered.
Witty young people usually do not like it when their own sayings used against them.