They both got out of the car. James came out of his cottage door and stood looking at them.
Agatha unlocked her door and said over her shoulder to Charles in a loud, clear voice, “Come along, darling.”
“Coming my angel, my sweet,” said Charles cheerfully.
The door slammed.
James Lacey stood there for a few moments and then he too went in and slammed the door, but with such force that the sound echoed along the quiet lanes of Carsely and set a farm dog up on the hills above the village yelping with alarm.
Marion Chesney
Вы читаете Agatha Raisin and the Terrible Tourist
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