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- Herausgeber: Enrico Conti
- Kategorie: Poesie und Drama
- Sprache: Englisch
- Veröffentlichungsjahr: 2017
In this elegant drama, Anna Katharine Green, one of the greatest mystery writers of all time, weaves a narrative with her usual consummate skill, and portrays her characters with exceptional sympathy. On the New England seacoast, not far from Boston, lies a staid, picturesque village called Sutherlandtown. In these tranquil surroundings, Agatha Webb and her servant are found murdered. The task of unraveling the mystery begins at once, and suspicion points to a number of persons…
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Agatha Webb
by
Anna Katharine Green
To the best of our knowledge, the text of this
work is in the “Public Domain”.
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copyright in the country from which you are accessing this website. It is your
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Book i
A Cry on the Hill
One Night’s Work
The Empty Drawer
The Full Drawer
A Spot on the Lawn
“Breakfast is Served, Gentlemen!”
“Marry Me”
“A Devil that Understands Men”
A Grand Woman
Detective Knapp Arrives
The Man with a Beard
Wattles Comes
Wattles Goes
A Final Temptation
The Zabels Visited
The Slippers, the Flower, and what Sweetwater Made of Them
Some Leading Questions
Poor Philemon
A Surprise for Mr. Sutherland
Book ii
Sweetwater Reasons
Sweetwater Acts
A Sinister Pair
In the Shadow Op the Mast
In Extremity
The Adventure of the Parcel
The Adventure of the Scrap of Paper and the Three Words
“Who are You?”
Home Again
Book iii
What Followed the Steiking of the Clock
A Witness Lost
Why Agatha Webb Will Never Be Forgotten in Sutherlandtown
Father and Son
“Not when They are Young Girls”
Sweetwater Pays His Debt at Last to Mr. Sutherland
Book i
THE PURPLE ORCHID
I
A Cry on the Hill
The dance was over. From the great house on the hill the guests had all departed and only the musicians remained. As they filed out through the ample doorway, on their way home, the first faint streak of early dawn became visible in the east. One of them, a lank, plain-featured young man of ungainly aspect but penetrating eye, called the attention of the others to it.
“Look!” said he; “there is the daylight! This has been a gay night for Sutherlandtown.”
“Too gay,” muttered another, starting aside as the slight figure of a young man coming from the house behind them rushed hastily by. “Why, who’s that?”
As they one and all had recognised the person thus alluded to, no one answered till he had dashed out of the gate and disappeared in the woods on the other side of the road. Then they all spoke at once.
“It’s Mr. Frederick!”
“He seems in a desperate hurry.”
“He trod on my toes.”
“Did you hear the words he was muttering as he went by?”
As only the last question was calculated to rouse any interest, it alone received attention.
“No; what were they? I heard him say something, but I failed to catch the words.”
“He wasn’t talking to you, or to me either, for that matter; but I have ears that can hear an eye wink. He said: ‘Thank God, this night of horror is over!’ Think of that! After such a dance and such a spread, he calls the night horrible and thanks God that it is over. I thought he was the very man to enjoy this kind of thing.”
“So did I.”
“And so did I.”
The five musicians exchanged looks, then huddled in a group at the gate.
“He has quarrelled with his sweetheart,” suggested one.
“I’m not surprised at that,” declared another. “I never thought it would be a match.”
“Shame if it were!” muttered the ungainly youth who had spoken first.
As the subject of this comment was the son of the gentleman whose house they were just leaving, they necessarily spoke low; but their tones were rife with curiosity, and it was evident that the topic deeply interested them. One of the five who had not previously spoken now put in a word:
“I saw him when he first led out Miss Page to dance, and I saw him again when he stood up opposite her in the last quadrille, and I tell you, boys, there was a mighty deal of difference in the way he conducted himself toward her in the beginning of the evening and the last. You wouldn’t have thought him the same man. Reckless young fellows like him are not to be caught by dimples only. They want cash.”
“Or family, at least; and she hasn’t either. But what a pretty girl she is! Many a fellow as rich as he and as well connected would be satisfied with her good looks alone.”
“Good looks!” High scorn was observable in this exclamation, which was made by the young man whom I have before characterised as ungainly. “I refuse to acknowledge that she has any good looks. On the contrary, I consider her plain.”
Lesen Sie weiter in der vollständigen Ausgabe!
Lesen Sie weiter in der vollständigen Ausgabe!
