Смерть на Ниле / Death on the Nile - стр. 52
‘That was very gracious of her,’ said Poirot dryly.
The ingenuous Cornelia agreed unsuspectingly.
‘Oh, she’s very kind. It’s simply wonderful of her to bring me on this trip. I do feel I’m a lucky girl. I just could hardly believe it when she suggested to Mother that I should come too.’
‘And you have enjoyed it – yes?’
‘Oh, it’s been wonderful. I’ve seen Italy – Venice and Padua and Pisa – and then Cairo – only Cousin Marie wasn’t very well in Cairo, so I couldn’t get around much, and now this wonderful trip up to Wadi Halfa and back.’
Poirot said, smiling:
‘You have the happy nature, Mademoiselle.’
He looked thoughtfully from her to the silent, frowning Rosalie, who was walking ahead by herself.
‘She’s very nice looking, isn’t she?’ said Cornelia, following his glance. ‘Only kind of scornful looking. She’s very English, of course. She’s not as lovely as Mrs Doyle. I think Mrs Doyle’s the loveliest, the most elegant woman I’ve ever seen! And her husband just worships the ground she walks on, doesn’t he? I think that greyhaired lady is kind of distinguished looking, don’t you? She’s a cousin of a duke, I believe. She was talking about him right near us last night. But she isn’t actually titled herself, is she?’
She prattled on until the dragoman in charge called a halt and began to intone:
‘This temple was dedicated to Egyptian God Amon and the Sun God Re-Harakhte – whose symbol was hawk’s head…’
It droned on. Dr Bessner, Baedeker in hand, mumbled to himself in German. He preferred the written word.
Tim Allerton had not joined the party. His mother was breaking the ice with the reserved Mr Fanthorp. Andrew Pennington, his arm through Linnet Doyle’s, was listening attentively, seemingly most interested in the measurements as recited by the guide.
‘Sixty-five feet high, is that so? Looks a little less to me. Great fellow, this Rameses. An Egyptian live wire.’
‘A big business man, Uncle Andrew.’
Andrew Pennington looked at her appreciatively.
‘You look fine this morning, Linnet. I’ve been a mite worried about you lately. You’ve looked kind of peaky.’
Chatting together, the party returned to the boat. Once more the Karnak glided up the river. The scenery was less stern now. There were palms, cultivation.
It was as though the change in the scenery had relieved some secret oppression that had brooded over the passengers. Tim Allerton had got over his fit of moodiness. Rosalie looked less sulky. Linnet seemed almost light hearted.
Pennington said to her: ‘It’s tactless to talk business to a bride on her honeymoon, but there are just one or two things-’