夜雨聆风“No, dear,” said Miss Marple. “Sit down and have a cup.”
“We must get home,” said Miss Blacklock. “Done your shopping,Bunny?”
Her tone was indulgent once more, but her eyes still held a slight re-proach.
“Yes—yes, thank you, Letty. I must just pop into the chemists in passingand get some aspirin and some cornplasters.”
As the doors of the Bluebird swung to behind them, Bunch asked:
“What were you talking about?”
Miss Marple did not reply at once. She waited whilst Bunch gave the or-der, then she said:
“Family solidarity is a very strong thing. Very strong. Do you remembersome famous case—I really can’t remember what it was. They said thehusband poisoned his wife. In a glass of wine. Then, at the trial, thedaughter said she’d drunk half her mother’s glass—so that knocked thecase against her father to pieces. They do say—but that may be just ru-mour—that she never spoke to her father or lived with him again. Ofcourse, a father is one thing—and a nephew or a distant cousin is another.
But still there it is—no one wants a member of their own family hanged,do they?”
“No,” said Bunch, considering. “I shouldn’t think they would.”
Miss Marple leaned back in her chair. She murmured under her breath,“People are really very alike, everywhere.”
“Who am I like?”
“Well, really, dear, you are very much like yourself. I don’t know thatyou remind me of anyone in particular. Except perhaps—”