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1994-08-14
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Copyright 1994(c)
CHRISTIE CRITTERS
By Patricia Carmel
"Oh, do hurry on along, won't you?" asked the elderly lady
occupying the passenger seat. "It's quite late, you know."
"I am aware of the hour, madam," said the driver, a
distinguished gentleman of portly girth, who drove the ancient
vehicle quite haphazardly, his moustaches a twitter. Fortunately,
due to the lateness of the hour and the time of the century, few
vehicles vied with his command of the entire roadway, even at peak
traffic hours.
"My goodness!" said his passenger. "Look there, will you?"
A vehicle of the same vintage as their own appeared to have
run off the road and struck a tree. The elderly couple halted their
progress to investigate and see if they could be of help.
The disabled vehicle's driver contained luggage and the supine
form of a handsome woman, apparently knocked unconscious by the
collision.
"Whatever shall we do?" the elderly woman asked her companion.
"Use of the gray cells would dictate that, wouldn't it?" asked
her companion, feeling for a pulse and nodding as though satisfied.
"I do believe there's an inn up the road," said his passenger.
"Could you, do you think, carry her to our car and perhaps we can
find help at the inn?"
"But of course, madam," said the driver, lifting the injured
driver from her car and depositing her on the backseat of his own.
As they resumed their progress, their new passenger stirred
and roused.
"Where am I?" she asked.
"You apparently had an accident in your motor car, my dear,"
replied the elderly lady. "We thought to transport you to a hotel
just down the way."
"That would be very kind," said their passenger. "Goodness,
I must have dozed off while driving," she added, sitting up and
straightening her suit jacket. "A bit of luck this," she said,
indicating her saviors. "Very kind of you, I must say."
"Nonsense," said the driver.
"How do you feel, my dear?" asked his companion.
"Quite well, actually," said the young woman. "I'll just check
into the inn and make arrangements for the car tomorrow. Lucky,
too, that I'm on holiday so it's no great bother, though a bit
annoying, I'll grant."
As they approached the inn, their new passenger smoothed her
hair and set her hat aright.
"I'll accompany you, madam," said the driver.
"Nonsense," objected the victim of the accident, "I shall be
perfectly fine. Thank you so much for your kindness, but further
assistance is really quite unnecessary," she insisted, climbing
from the vehicle. "I shall never forget you, I assure you."
As she approached the door of the inn, the elderly woman
remembered her manners.
"My goodness, we didn't even think to ask your name or tell
you ours," she called.
"My name?" asked the young woman. "Why, it's Aga -- Theresa."
She hesitated. "Theresa Neele," she added, and was gone before her
rescuers could introduce themselves.
As the couple pulled back onto the highway, the elderly woman
shook her head in disbelief. "Imagine that," she said.
"Use of the gray cells requires great imagination," Hercule
Puerot observed.
"Quite right," agreed Miss Marple. "But it is the stuff of
mystery novels, wouldn't you say?"
END