Читать «Crooked House / Скрюченный домишко. Книга для чтения на английском языке» онлайн - страница 12

With a sudden almost despairing vehemence, she drove one clenched hand into the palm of the other.

I’ve got to have the truth. I’ve got to know!

‘Because of us? But, dearest—’

‘Not only because of us, Charles. I’ve got to know for my own peace of mind. You see, Charles, I didn’t tell you last night—but the truth is—I’m afraid.’

‘Afraid?’

‘Yes—afraid—afraid—afraid. The police think, your father thinks, you think, everybody thinks—that it was Brenda.’

‘The probabilities—’

‘Oh yes, it’s quite probable. It’s possible. But when I say, “Brenda probably did it,” I’m quite conscious that it’s only wishful thinking. Because, you see, I don’t really think so!

‘You don’t think so?’ I said slowly.

‘I don’t know. You’ve heard about it all from the outside as I wanted you to. Now I’ll show it you from the inside. I simply don’t feel that Brenda is that kind of a person— she’s not the sort of person, I feel, who would ever do anything that might involve her in any danger. She’s far too careful of herself.’

‘How about this young man? Laurence Brown.’

‘Laurence is a complete rabbit. He wouldn’t have the guts.’

‘I wonder.’

‘Yes, we don’t really know, do we? I mean, people are capable of surprising one frightfully. One gets an idea of them into one’s head, and sometimes it’s absolutely wrong. Not always—but sometimes. But all the same, Brenda’—she shook her head—‘she’s always acted so completely in character. She’s what I call the harem type. Likes sitting about and eating sweets and having nice clothes and jewellery and reading cheap novels and going to the cinema. And it’s a queer thing to say, when one remembers that he was eighty-seven, but I really think she was rather thrilled by grandfather. He had a power, you know. I should imagine he could make a woman feel—oh—rather like a queen— the sultan’s favourite! I think—I’ve always thought—that he made Brenda feel as though she were an exciting, romantic person. He’s been clever with women all his life—and that kind of thing is a sort of art—you don’t lose the knack of it, however old you are.’

I left the problem of Brenda for the moment and harked back to a phrase of Sophia’s which had disturbed me.

‘Why did you say,’ I asked, ‘that you were afraid?’

Sophia shivered a little and pressed her hands together.

‘Because it’s true,’ she said in a low voice. ‘It’s very important, Charles, that I should make you understand this. You see, we’re a very queer family… There’s a lot of rutblessness in us—and—different kinds of ruthlessness. That’s what’s so disturbing. The different kinds.’

She must have seen incomprehension in my face. She went on, speaking energetically.

‘I’ll try and make what I mean clear. Grandfather, for instance. Once when he was telling us about his boyhood in Smyrna, he mentioned, quite casually, that he had stabbed two men. It was some kind of a brawl—there had been some unforgivable insult—I don’t know—but it was just a thing that had happened quite naturally. He’d really practically forgotten about it. But it was, somehow, such a queer thing to hear about, quite casually, in England.’