Читать книгу Ten Little Niggers / Десять негритят - Агата Кристи, Agatha Christie, Detection Club The - Страница 8

Tony Marston, rushing down into Mere, thought to himself:

“The amount of cars crawling about the roads is outrageous. Always something blocking your way. And they will drive in the middle of the road! Pretty hopeless driving in England, anyway… Not like France where you really could let out.”

Should he stop here for a drink, or drive on? Heaps of time! He’d have a gin and ginger-beer. Awfully hot day!

In fine weather this island place ought to be quite good fun. Who were these Owens, he wondered? Stinking rich, probably. Badger was rather good at nosing out people like that. Of course, he had to, poor old chap, with no money of his own.

Hope they’d have enough drinks. Never knew with these fellows who’d made their money and weren’t born to it. Pity that story that Gabrielle Turl had bought Nigger Island wasn’t true.

Oh, well, he supposed there’d be a few girls there.

Coming out of the hotel, he stretched himself, yawned, looked up at the blue sky and climbed into his car.

Several young women looked at him admiringly – his six feet of well-proportioned body, his curly hair, tanned face, and intensely blue eyes.

He started the car and rushed up the narrow street. Old men and errand-boys jumped for safety. The latter looked after the car admiringly.

Anthony Marston continued his triumphal progress.