Cards on the Table by Agatha Christie

had settled over the three. Mrs. Oliver sensed it quickly enough. When Rhoda brought in tea, she rose and said she must be getting back to town. No, it was ever so kind of them but she wouldn't have any tea.
    “I'm going to leave you my card, she said. Here it is with my address on it. Come and see me when you come up to town and we'll talk everything over and see if we can't think of something ingenious to get to the bottom of things.”
    “I'll come out to the gate with you,” said Rhoda.
    Just as they were walking down the path to the front gate Anne Meredith ran out of the house and overtook them. “I've been thinking things over,” she said. Her pale face looked unusually resolute.
    “Yes, my dear?”
    “It's extraordinarily kind of you, Mrs. Oliver, to have taken all this trouble. But I'd really rather not do anything at all. I mean - it was all so horrible. I just want to forget about it.”
    “My dear child, the question is will you be allowed to forget about it?”
    “Oh, I quite understand that the police won't let it drop. They'll probably come here and ask me a lot more questions - I'm prepared for that. But privately, I mean, I don't want to think about it - or be reminded of it in any way. I daresay I'm a coward, but that's how I feel about it.”
    “Oh! Anne,” cried Rhoda Dawes.
    “I can understand your feeling, but I'm not at all sure that you're wise,” said Mrs. Oliver. “Left to themselves the police will probably never find out the truth.”
    Anne Meredith shrugged her shoulders.
    “Does that really matter?”
    “Matter?” cried Rhoda. “Of course it matters. It does matter, doesn't it, Mrs. Oliver?”
    “I should certainly say so,” said Mrs. Oliver dryly.
    “I don't agree,” said Anne obstinately. “Nobody who knows me would ever think I'd done it. I don't see any reason for interfering. It's the business of the police to get at the truth.”
    “Oh, Anne, you are spiritless,” said Rhoda.
    “That's how I feel, anyway,” said Anne. She held out her hand. “Thank you very much, Mrs. Oliver. It's very good of you to have bothered.”
    “Of course if you feel that way there's nothing more to be said,” said Mrs. Oliver cheerfully. “I, at any rate, shall not let the grass grow under my feet. Good-by, my dear. Look me up in London if you change your mind.”
    She climbed into the car and started it, waving a cheerful hand at the two girls.
    Rhoda suddenly made a dash after the slowly moving automobile.
    “What you said - about looking you up in London,” she said breathlessly. “Did you only mean Anne, or did you mean me, too?”
    Mrs. Oliver applied the brake.
    “I meant both of you, of course.”
    “Oh, thank you. Don't stop. I - perhaps I might come one day. There's something - No, don't stop. I can jump off.”
    She did so and waving a hand ran back to the gate where Anne was standing.
    “What on earth -?” began Anne.
    “Isn't she a duck?” asked Rhoda enthusiastically. “I do like her. She had on odd stockings, did you notice? I'm sure she's frightfully clever. She must be, to write all those books. What fun if she found out the truth when the police and everyone were baffled.”
    “Why did she come here?” asked Anne.
    Rhoda's eyes opened wide. “Darling, she told you -”
    Anne made an impatient gesture.
    “We must go in. I forgot. I've left him all alone.”
    “Major Despard? Anne, he's frightfully good-looking, isn't he?”
    “I suppose he is.”
    They walked up the path together.
    Major Despard was standing by the mantelpiece, teacup in hand. He cut short Anne's apologies for leaving him.
    “Miss Meredith, I want to explain why I've butted in like this.”
    “Oh - but -”
    “I said that I happened to be passing. That wasn't strictly true. I came here on purpose.”
    “How did you know my address?” asked Anne slowly.
    “I got it from Superintendent Battle.”
    He saw her shrink slightly at the name. He went on quickly. “Battle's on his way