N Or M – Agatha Christie
Tommy Beresford removed his overcoat in the hall of the flat. He hung it up with some care, taking time over it. His hat went carefully on the next peg.
He squared his shoulders, affixed a resolute smile to his face and walked into the sitting room where his wife sat knitting a Balaclava helmet in khaki wool.
It was the spring of 1940.
Mrs Beresford gave him a quick glance and then busied herself by knitting at a furious rate. She said after a minute or two:
“Any news in the evening paper?”
“The Blitzkrieg is coming, hurray, hurray! Things look bad in France.”
“It’s a depressing world at the moment.”
There was a pause and then Tommy said:
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