Definitely no Ancreds!

     Stumped for an answer, as she had so often been since her arrival at Ancreton, Troy said: "I suppose the country does feel a bit queer when you're used to bricks and morter."

    "It feels, to be frank, like death warmed up. Not that I don't say you could do something with that Jack's-come-home up there. You know. Weekend parties, with the old bunch coming down and all the fun and games. And no Ancreds. Well, I wouldn't mind Ceddie. He's one-of-those, of course, but I always think they're good mixers in their own way. I've got it all worked out. Something to do, isn't it, making plans? It may come up in the lift one of these days; you never know. But no Ancreds when I throw a party in the Baronial Hall. You bet, no Ancreds."

(from Final Curtain, by Dame Ngaio Marsh)

When a painter is really rolling

 Troy had decided to go straight for the head. She had laid in a general scheme for her work, an exciting affair of wet shadows and sharp accents. This could be completed without him. She was painting well. The touch of flamboyancy that she had dreaded was absent. She had returned often to the play. Its threat of horror was now a factor in her approach to her work. She was strongly aware of that sense of a directive power which comes only when all is well with painters. With any luck, she thought, I'll be able to say: "Did the fool that is me, make this?"

(from Final Curtain, by Dame Ngaio Marsh)

Just retribution

 On the second terrace some thirty little girls and  boys were digging in time to their own singing. A red-haired young woman, clad in  breechs and sweater, shouted the rhythmic orders. Troy was just in time to see a little boy in the  back row deliberately heave a spadeful of soil down the neck of a near-by little girl. Singing shrilly, she retaliated by catching him a swinging smack across the rump with the flat of her spade.

(from Final Curtain, by Dame Ngaio Marsh)

Silent suffering

 "Having discovered, after two or three colourless fentures, that he was a bad actor, he set about teaching himself to become a good producer. In this, after a struggle, he succeeded, and is now established as director for Incorporated Playhouses, Limited, Unicorn Theatre. He has never been known to lose his temper at rehearsals, but may sometimes be observed, alone in the stalls, rocking to and fro with his head in his hands."

(from Final Curtain, by Dame Ngaio Marsh)

Emotional, one and all

 "Collectively and severally," Nigen had written, "the Ancreds, all but one, are over-emotionalized. Anyone attempting to describe or explain their behaviour must keep this characteristic firmly in mind, for without it they would scarcely exist. Sir Henry Ancred is perhaps the worst of the lot, but, because he is an actor, his friends accept his behaviour as part of his stock-in-trade, and apart from an occasional feeling of shyness in his presence, seldom make the mistake of worrying about him. Whether he was drawn to his wife (now deceased) by the discovery of a similar trait in her character, or whether, by the phenomenon of marital acclimatization, Lady Ancred learnt to exhibit emotion with a virtuosity equal to that of her husband, cannot be discovered. It can only be recorded that she did so; and died."

Wonderful family!

     "Rather a large party," said Katti. "Fun for you."

    "There'll be a good many rows, of course," Thomas replied. "When you get two or three Ancreds gathered together they are certain to hurt each other's feelings. That's where I come in handy, because I'm the insensitive one and they talk to me about each other. And about Sonia, I needn't say. We shall all talk about Sonia."

(from Final Curtain, by Dame Ngaio Marsh)

The ultimate indulgence

 "The portrait would hang under the minstrels' gallery with special lighting. He doesn't mind what he pays. It's to commemorate his seventy-fifth birthday. His own idea is that the nation ought to have given it to him, but as the nation doesn't seem to have thought of that, he's giving it to himself. And to posterity, of course."

(from Final Curtain, by Dame Ngaio Marsh)

Charlie's only claim

    "Your brother's wife had suffered accident, she was no longer able to work at profession, she was penniless and alone. You sent for her. What more natural than that action? You helped her to position, that she might help you."

    Tarneverro shrugged. "You have a remarkable imagination, Mr. Chan."

    "No, no - you flatter me," Charlie cried. "It has just been proved I have not imagination enough. Only one claim I make for myself - when light at last begins to stream in, I do not close the shutters."

(from The Black Camel, by Earl Derr Biggers)

I was here

     "To be young, in love, and on this beach," he said. "What greater happiness than that? Taste it to the full. It happens once, then time moves on. Moment comes when gold and pearls can not buy back the raven locks of youth."

    "Why, Charlie, you're getting sentimental," Bradshaw cried.

    Chan nodded. "I think of my own courtship on this shore - so long ago. How long, you wonder? I am now father of eleven children - judge for yourself."

    "You must be very proud of them," Julie ventured.

    "As proud as they will permit," Chan answered. "At least, I have done my part to link past with future. When I move on, leaving eleven offspring, can any man say I have not been here? I think not."

(from The Black Camel, by Earl Derr Biggers)

Glad to be rid of them

     "Do you think Robert Fyfe took those lost bits of the photograph?" Bradshaw inquired.

    Charlie shook his head. "Impossible. He had not yet arrived on scene. Alas! it is not so simple as that. It is not simple at all." He sighed. "I fear I will be worn to human skeleton before I disentangle this web. And you" - he looked at the girl - "you alone have melted off at least seven pounds."

    "I'm so sorry," Julie said.

    "Do not fret. Always my daughters tell me I am too enormous for beauty. And beauty is, of course, my only aim." He stood up. "Well, that is that. Jimmy, do not let this young woman escape you. She has proved herself faithful one. Also, she is most unexpert deceiver I have ever met. What a wife she will make for somebody."

    "Me, I hope," Bradshaw grinned.

    "I hope so, too." Charlie turned to the girl. "Accept him, and all is forgiven between you and me. The seven pounds is gladly donated."

(from The Black Camel, by Earl Derr Biggers)

Busy fly

     A glance at his watch told him that he had no time for his usual leisurely lunch. He had instead a sandwich and a glass of milk, then went to the station. The Chief was pacing the floor of the detectives' room.

    "Hello, Charlie," he cried. "I've been wondering where you were. Pretty busy this morning, I take it?"

    "Like fly on hot griddle," Chan answered. "And just as eager to get off."

(from The Black Camel, by Earl Derr Biggers)