I can’t remember how long it’s been since I read an
Agatha Christie novel but when I heard her grandson interviewed on the radio
upon the anniversary of her death, I had to read the novel he said was his
favorite.
An unexpected romance between a rich young woman and
an apparent ne’er-do-well, or maybe, an apparently unexpected romance. Told in first-person, “I”, the young man of
the story tells the tale. Because this
is Christie, there’s a surprise ending.
Because I’ve been reading a lot of novels set in
current times, or post-apocalyptic times, it was a delightful bit of stepping
back to mid-20th century Britain.
Collins, 1967 224 p.
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