夜雨聆风they say to me, “you are a heroine, you are superb.” “Ach, it is nothing, Isay.”’”
Julia stopped.
“And a great deal more,” she added.
“I think,” said Edmund thoughtfully, “that soon Mitzi will have assistedthe police in not one but hundreds of cases!”
“She’s softened towards me,” said Phillipa. “She actually presented mewith the recipe for Delicious Death as a kind of wedding present. She ad-ded that I was on no account to divulge the secret to Julia, because Juliahad ruined her omelette pan.”
“Mrs. Lucas,” said Edmund, “is all over Phillipa now that since BelleGoedler’s death Phillipa and Julia have inherited the Goedler millions. Shesent us some silver asparagus tongs as a wedding present. I shall haveenormous pleasure in not asking her to the wedding!”
“And so they lived happily ever after,” said Patrick. “Edmund and Phil-lipa—and Julia and Patrick?” he added tentatively.
“Not with me, you won’t live happily ever after,” said Julia. “The re-marks that Inspector Craddock improvised to address to Edmund applyfar more aptly to you. You are the sort of soft young man who would like arich wife. Nothing doing!”
“There’s gratitude for you,” said Patrick. “After all I did for that girl.”
“Nearly landed me in prison on a murder charge—that’s what your for-getfulness nearly did for me,” said Julia. “I shall never forget that eveningwhen your sister’s letter came. I really thought I was for it. I couldn’t seeany way out.”
“As it is,” she added musingly, “I think I shall go on the stage.”
“What? You, too?” groaned Patrick.
“Yes. I might go to Perth. See if I can get your Julia’s place in the Repthere. Then, when I’ve learnt my job, I shall go into theatre management—and put on Edmund’s plays, perhaps.”
“I thought you wrote novels,” said Julian Harmon.
“Well, so did I,” said Edmund. “I began writing a novel. Rather good itwas. Pages about an unshaven man getting out of bed and what he smeltlike, and the grey streets, and a horrible old woman with dropsy and a vi-cious young tart who dribbled down her chin—and they all talked inter-minably about the state of the world and wondered what they were alivefor. And suddenly I began to wonder too … And then a rather comic ideaoccurred to me … and I jotted it down—and then I worked up rather agood little scene … All very obvious stuff. But somehow, I got interested …And before I knew what I was doing I’d finished a roaring farce in threeacts.”
