Appointment with Death by Agatha Christie

the case and went back across the room.
    There were little beads of sweat on his forehead as he rejoined them, and his face was dead white.
    Very softly Mrs Boynton murmured: ‘Ah…’ as she watched his face.
    Then she saw Nadine’s eyes fixed on her. Something in them made her own snap with sudden anger.
    â€˜Where’s Mr Cope this morning?’ she said.
    Nadine’s eyes dropped again. She answered in her gentle, expressionless voice:
    â€˜I don’t know. I haven’t seen him.’
    â€˜I like him,’ said Mrs Boynton. ‘I like him very much. We must see a good deal of him. You’ll like that, won’t you?’
    â€˜Yes,’ said Nadine. ‘I, too, like him very much.’
    â€˜What’s the matter with Lennox lately? He seems very dull and quiet. Nothing wrong between you, is there?’
    â€˜Oh, no. Why should there be?’
    â€˜I wondered. Married people don’t always hit it off. Perhaps you’d be happier living in a home of your own?’
    Nadine did not answer.
    â€˜Well, what do you say to the idea? Does it appeal to you?’
    Nadine shook her head. She said, smiling: ‘I don’t think it would appeal to you , Mother.’
    Mrs Boynton’s eyelids flickered. She said sharply and venomously, ‘You’ve always been against me, Nadine.’
    The younger woman replied evenly:
    â€˜I’m sorry you should think that.’
    The old woman’s hand closed on her stick. Her face seemed to get a shade more purple.
    She said, with a change of tone: ‘I forgot my drops. Get them for me, Nadine.’
    â€˜Certainly.’
    Nadine got up and crossed the lounge to the lift. Mrs Boynton looked after her. Raymond sat limply in a chair, his eyes glazed with dull misery.
    Nadine went upstairs and along the corridor. She entered the sitting-room of their suite. Lennox was sitting by the window. There was a book in his hand, but he was not reading. He roused himself as Nadine came in. ‘Hallo, Nadine.’
    â€˜I’ve come up for Mother’s drops. She forgot them.’
    She went on into Mrs Boynton’s bedroom. From a bottle on the washstand she carefully measured a dose into a small medicine glass, filling it up with water. Asshe passed through the sitting-room again she paused.
    â€˜Lennox.’
    It was a moment or two before he answered her. It was as though the message had a long way to travel.
    Then he said: ‘I beg your pardon. What is it?’
    Nadine Boynton set down the glass carefully on the table. Then she went over and stood beside him.
    â€˜Lennox, look at the sunshine—out there, through the window. Look at life. It’s beautiful. We might be out in it—instead of being here looking through a window.’
    Again there was a pause. Then he said: ‘I’m sorry. Do you want to go out?’
    She answered him quickly: ‘Yes, I want to go out— with you —out into the sunshine—out into life—and live—the two of us together.’
    He shrank back into his chair. His eyes looked restless, hunted.
    â€˜Nadine, my dear—must we go into all this again?’
    â€˜Yes, we must. Let us go away and lead our own life somewhere.’
    â€˜How can we? We’ve no money.’
    â€˜We can earn money.’
    â€˜How could we? What could we do? I’m untrained. Thousands of men—qualified men—trained men—are out of a job as it is. We couldn’t manage it.’
    â€˜I would earn money for both of us.’
    â€˜My dear child, you’d never even completed your training. It’s hopeless—impossible.’
    â€˜No, what is hopeless and impossible is our present life.’
    â€˜You don’t know what you are talking about. Mother is very good to us. She gives us every luxury.’
    â€˜Except freedom. Lennox, make an effort. Come with me now—today—’
    â€˜Nadine, I think you’re quite