Смерть на Ниле / Death on the Nile

‘We’ve got to go through with it now…’

‘Yes,’ thought Hercule Poirot to himself, ‘we have got to go through with it now…’

He was not happy.

Chapter 8

The steamer arrived early next morning at Ez-Zebua. Cornelia Robson, her face beaming, a large flapping hat on her head, was one of the first to hurry on shore. Cornelia was not good at snubbing people. She was of an amiable disposition and disposed to like all her fellow creatures. The sight of Hercule Poirot, in a white suit, pink shirt, large black bow tie and a white topee, did not make her wince as the aristocratic Miss Van Schuyler would assuredly have winced.

As they walked together up an avenue of sphinxes, she responded readily to his conventional opening,

‘Your companions are not coming ashore to view the temple?’

‘Well, you see, Cousin Marie – that’s Miss Van Schuyler – never gets up very early. She has to be very, very careful of her health. And of course she wanted Miss Bowers, that’s her hospital nurse, to do things for her.

And she said, too, that this isn’t one of the best temples – but she was frightfully kind and said it would be quite all right for me to come.’

‘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.