Sad Cypress § Тъжният кипарис

Just for a moment an odd restlessness came to him – a rippling of his previous placidity. He felt, There’s something – something I haven’t got – something I want – I want – I want…. The golden green light, the softness in the air – with them came a quickened pulse, a stirring of the blood, a sudden impatience.
A girl came through the trees toward him – a girl with pale, gleaming hair and a rose-flushed skin. He thought, How beautiful – how unutterably beautiful. Something gripped him; he stood quite still, as though frozen into immobility. The world, he felt, was spinning, was topsy-turvy, was suddenly and impossibly and gloriously crazy! The girl stopped suddenly, then she came on. She came up to him where he stood, dumb and absurdly fish-like, his mouth open.

They came to Baghdad


‘Hallo,’ said the young man. ‘Nice place this. Do you often come here?’
‘Nearly every day.’
‘Just my luck that I never came here before. Was that your lunch you were eating?’
‘I don’t think you eat enough. I’d be starving if I only had two sandwiches. What about coming along and having a sausage at the SPO in Tottenham Court Road?’
‘No thanks. I’m quite all right. I couldn’t eat any more now.’
She rather expected that he would say: ‘Another day,’ but he did not. He merely sighed – then he said: ‘My name’s Edward, what’s yours?’
‘Why did your people want to call you after a railway station?’
‘Victoria isn’t only a railway station,’ Miss Jones pointed out. ‘There’s Queen Victoria as well.’
‘Mm yes. What’s your other name?’
‘Victoria Jones,’ said Edward, trying it over on his tongue. He shook his head. ‘They don’t go together.’

And the mirror cracked § Прокятието на огледалото

and the mirror cracked

‘She was staring, you know, over Mrs Badcock’s shoulder and when Mrs Badcock had
finished her rather silly story of how she got out of a bed of sickness and sneaked out of the house to go and meet Marina and get her autograph, there was a sort of odd silence. Then I saw her face.’
‘Whose face? Mrs Badcock’s?’
‘No. Marina Gregg’s. It was as though she hadn’t heard a word the Badcock woman was saying. She was staring over her shoulder right at the wall opposite. Staring with – I can’t
explain it to you-‘

The mirror cracked from side to side, by Agatha Christie

Death on the Nile


 With a quick gesture she fumbled in a little silk bag that lay on the seat.
Then she held out her hand. On the palm of it was a small pearl-handled pistol
a dainty toy it looked.

Agatha Christie