CHAPTER 2-2

　　It really seemed too good to be true. She knew quitewell with her usual clear-eyed common sense, that what she wanted was simply to refurbishher memories of the past in their old original colours. Much of her life had, perforce, tobe spent recalling past pleasures. If you could find someone to remember them with, thatwas indeed happiness. Nowadays that was not easy to do; she had outlived most of hercontemporaries. But she still sat and remembered. In a queer way, it made her come to lifeagain – Jane Marple, that pink and white eager young girl…. Such a silly girl in many ways… now who wasthat very unsuitable young man whose name – oh dear, shecouldn‘t even remember it now! How wise her mother had been tonip that friendship so firmly in the bud. She had come across him years later – and really he was quite dreadful! At the time she had cried herself to sleepfor at least a week!

　　Nowadays, of course – sheconsidered nowadays…. These poor young things. Some of themhad mothers, but never mothers who seemed to be any good – motherswho were quite incapable of protecting their daughters from silly affairs, illegitimatebabies, and early and unfortunate marriages. It was all very sad.

　　Her friend’s voiceinterrupted these meditations.
　　"Well, I never. It is – yes, it is – Bess Sedgwick over there! Of all theunlikely places –”

　　Miss Marple had been listening with only half an earto Lady Selina‘s comments on her surroundings. She and MissMarple moved in entirely different circles, so that Miss Marple had been unable toexchange scandalous tit-bits about the various friends or acquaintances that Lady Selinarecognised or thought she recognised.

　　But Bess Sedgwick was different. Bess Sedgwick was aname that almost everyone in England knew. For over thirty years now, Bess Sedgwick hadbeen reported by the Press as doing this or that outrageous or extraordinary thing. For agood part of the war she had been a member of the French Resistance, and was said to havesix notches on her gun representing dead Germans. She had flown solo across the Atlanticyears ago, had ridden on horseback across Europe and fetched up at Lake Van. She haddriven racing cars, had once saved two children from a burning house, had severalmarriages to her credit and discredit and was said to be the second best-dressed woman inEurope. It was also said that she had successfully smuggled herself aboard a nuclearsubmarine on its test voyage.

　　It was therefore with the most intense interest thatMiss Marple sat up and indulged in a frankly avid stare.

　　Whatever she had expected of Bertram’s Hotel, it wasnot to find Bess Sedgwick there. An expensive nightclub, or a lorry drivers‘ pull up – either of those would be quite inkeeping with Bess Sedgwick’s wide range of interests. But thishighly respectable and old world hostelry seemed strangely alien.

　　Still there she was – nodoubt of it. Hardly a month passed without Bess Sedgwick‘sface appearing in the fashion magazines or the popular press. Here she was in the flesh,smoking a cigarette in a quick impatient manner and looking in a surprised way at thelarge tea tray in front of her as thought she had never seen one before. She had ordered –Miss Marple screwed up her eyes and peered – it was rather far away – yes, doughnuts. Veryinteresting.

　　As she watched, Bess Sedgwick stubbed out hercigarette in her saucer, lifted a doughnut and took an immense bite. Rich red realstrawberry jam gushed out over her chin. Bess threw back her head and laughed, one of theloudest and gayest sounds to have been heard in the lounge of Bertram’s Hotel for sometime.

　　Henry was immediately beside her, a small delicatenapkin proffered. She took it, scrubbed her chin with the vigour of a schoolboy,exclaiming: "That‘s what I call areal doughnut. Gorgeous."

　　She dropped the napkin on the tray and stood up. Asusual every eye was on her. She was used to that. Perhaps she liked it, perhaps she nolonger noticed it. She was worth looking at – a striking womanrather than a beautiful one. The palest of platinum hair fell sleek and smooth exquisite.Her nose was faintly aquiline, her eyes deep set and a real grey in colour. She had thewide mouth of a natural comedian. Her dress was of such simplicity that it puzzled mostmen. It looked like the coarsest kind of sacking, had no ornamentation of any kind, and noapparent fastening or seams. But women knew better. Even the provincial old dears inBertram’s knew, quite certainly, that it had cost the earth!

　　Striding across the lounge towards the life, shepassed quite close to Lady Selina and Miss Marple, and she nodded to the former.

　　"Hallo, Lady Selina. Haven‘t seen you since Crufts. How are the Borzois?"

　　"What on earth are you doing here, Bess?"

　　"Just staying here. I’vejust driven up from Land‘s End. Four hours and three-quarters.Not bad."

　　"You’ll kill yourselfone of these days. Or someone else."

　　"Oh I hope not."

　　"But why are you staying here?"

　　Bess Sedgwick threw a swift glance round. She seemedto see the point and acknowledge it with an ironic smile.

　　"Someone told me I ought to try it. I think they‘re right. I’ve just had the most marvellousdoughnut."

　　"My dear, they have real muffins too."
　　"Muffins," said LadySedgwick thoughtfully. "Yes…."She seemed to concede the point. "Muffins!"

She nodded and went on towards the lift.
"Extraordinary girl," saidLady Selina. To her, like to Miss Marple, every woman under sixty was a girl. "Known her ever since she was a child. Nobody could do anything with her. Ranaway with an Irish groom when she was sixteen. They managed to get her back in time –or perhaps not in time. Anyway they bought him off and got her safelymarried to old Coniston – thirty years older than she was,awful old rip, quite dotty about her. That didn‘t last long.She went off with Johnnie Sedgwick. That might have stuck if he hadn’t broken his neck steeplechasing. After that she married Ridgeway Becker, theAmerican yacht owner. He divorced her three years ago and I hear she‘s taken up with some Racing Motor Driver – a poleor something. I don’t know whether she‘s actually married or not. After the American divorce she went back tocalling herself Sedgwick. She goes about with the most extraordinary people. They say shetakes drugs… I don’t know, I‘m sure."
"On wonders if she is happy," said Miss Marple.