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Practice and improve writing style. Write like Agatha Christie

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“H’m!” said Tuppence. “Those are the kind of sentiments that very soon go to the wall when the other sentiment comes along! Don’t they, old thing?”

 

“That brings me to something I wanted to say. I heard the Ambassador telling you his wife hoped you would come to them at the Embassy right away. That’s good enough, but I’ve got another plan. Jane—I want you to marry me! Don’t get scared and say no at once. You can’t love me right away, of course, that’s impossible. But I’ve loved you from the very moment I set eyes on your photo—and now I’ve seen you I’m simply crazy about you! If you’ll only marry me, I won’t worry you any—you shall take your own time. Maybe you’ll never come to love me, and if that’s the case I’ll manage to set you free. But I want the right to look after you, and take care of you.”

 

“No, stranger, that’s where you’re wrong. You forget the dollars. A big crowd of solicitors will get busy, and they’ll get some high-brow doctors on the job, and the end of it all will be that they’ll say my brain was unhinged. I shall spend a few months in a quiet sanatorium, my mental health will improve, the doctors will declare me sane again, and all will end happily for little Julius. I guess I can bear a few months’ retirement in order to rid the world of you, but don’t you kid yourself I’ll hang for it!”

 

He described Tuppence as well as he could, but the porter shook his head. Several people had arrived by the train in question. He could not call to mind one young lady in particular. But he was quite certain that no one had asked him the way to the Moat House.

 

“If she wasn’t, how would they have known Jane Finn had got the papers?”

 

M. Hautet was interrupted—to his intense annoyance. The door was pushed open.

 

“At last you have seen the detective you admire—the human foxhound! Is it not so, my friend?”

 

It was the examining magistrate’s turn to shrug his shoulders.

 

“That room there, it is the study, hein?” asked Poirot suddenly, nodding towards the door opposite.

 

“Monsieur has a sharp eye. It takes always a day or so for them to ‘pick up.’ Yes, I put ten new plants in each bed last night. As Monsieur doubtless knows, one should not put in plants when the sun is hot.”

 

I went on to the house. I rang the bell, as Japp had closed the door behind him. After some moments it was opened to me by a middle-aged woman in black.

 

“Ex-actly,” said Japp soothingly. “But there are just one or two little points I’d like your opinion about all the same. Captain Hastings, here, he knows me, and he’ll go on up to the house and tell them you’re coming.”

 

“Well, I’d got my eye on Havering to begin with.... Oh, yes,”—noting my exclamation of astonishment,—“Havering has one or two shady incidents in his past. When he was a boy at Oxford, there was some funny business about the signature on one of his father’s checks. All hushed up, of course. Then he’s pretty heavily in debt now, and they’re the kind of debts he wouldn’t like to go to his uncle about; whereas you may be sure the uncle’s will would be in his favor. Yes, I’d got my eye on him, and that’s why I wanted to speak to him before he saw his wife; but their statements dovetail all right, and I’ve been to the station, and there’s no doubt whatever that he left by the six-fifteen. That gets up to London about ten-thirty. He went straight to his club, he says, and if that’s confirmed all right—why, he couldn’t have been shooting his uncle here at nine o’clock in a black beard!”

 

“What was this man like who called to see Mr. Pace?”

 

“I think it grew pretty fast—grew in the five miles from Elmer’s Dale to Hunter’s Lodge. Americans that I’ve met are mostly clean shaven. I questioned the housekeeper first, and then her mistress, and their stories agree all right; but I’m sorry Mrs. Havering didn’t get a look at the fellow. She’s a smart woman, and she might have noticed something that would set us on the track.”

 

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