Miss Silver Deals With Death: A Miss Silver Mystery
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When her fiance, Giles Armitage, is lost at sea in the middle of the Second World War, Meade Underwood is left in the company of a middle-aged aunt with nothing but a monotonous round of bridge parties and war work to fill her days. A chance encounter restores Giles to Meade but he has lost his memory, and their rediscovered happiness is threatened by the machinations of the scheming Carola Roland, a figure from Giles's forgotten past. So when Carola is viciously murdered, Giles becomes the chief suspect and it takes all Miss Silver's ingenuity to unravel the real significance of the crime and its electrifying consequences.
who went out all bundled up with shawls in a bath-chair. How dreadful to be nothing more than a bundle of shawls. Better to be unhappy, better to be anything that was alive than to have forgotten what it was like to live. Better to break your heart for a dead lover than to have lost the memory of love. She pulled away from that. Mrs Meredith's companion, Miss Crane, an easy, tattling person – large round glasses and a plump pale face. Mrs Meredith’s sour-faced maid who never spoke to anyone.
the matter?’ He could feel her little body shaken with sobs, but no voice, no words. ‘Meade darling, what is it – what’s the matter? Can’t you stop crying and tell me? Look here, you must!’ Yes, she must. And when she had told him, they would never sit like this again. It would be all over, and finished, and done with. Just for a moment more she let herself feel the warmth, the strength, the love that held her. Then she lifted her head from his shoulder. ‘Giles – you said you didn’t know her—
‘How do you do, Mrs Underwood? I remember you very well.’ The lady sat down. There were two rows of pearls upon her bosom. They rose and fell a little more rapidly than was natural. Their owner had presumably come up in the lift, yet from the evidence of the pearls she might very well have taken the three flights of stairs at a run. Rejecting such an absurd supposition, Miss Silver wondered why Mrs Underwood should be nervous, and whether her visit was to be regarded as a professional one. She
it, or the brains. No, to my mind the principal got away and left him to take the rap. Let me see – that would be about six months ago, which corresponds very nicely with the date when Mrs Underwood sent her fifty pounds. Of course two separate blackmailers may have been using the same address, but I’d want good jury-proof evidence to make me believe it. Now I wonder whether Miss Roland was the principal who slipped through our ringers. Looks as if she might have been.’ Frank Abbott looked over
basement to find Bell if it was after half past eight. Down at that pub of his, that’s where you’d have to go to find him anywhere between half past eight and half past nine. And unless that’s what you did, it wouldn’t take you the best part of half an hour, my dear.” And Miss Garside says quick, “Half an hour? What do you mean?” And Mrs Lemming says, “Well, I rang you at five-and-twenty to nine, and at twenty to, and soon after the quarter, and I couldn’t get any answer.” And Miss Garside she