The Secret of Chimneys – Agatha Christie
Jimmy grinned.
‘Never a hog for regular work, were you?’
Anthony ignored this aspersion.
‘However, something will turn up soon, I expect,’ he remarked hopefully. ‘It usually does.’
Jimmy chuckled.
‘If there’s any trouble brewing, Anthony Cade is sure to be in it sooner or later, I know that,’ he said. ‘You’ve an absolute instinct for rows – and the nine lives of a cat. When can we have a yarn together?’
Anthony sighed.
‘I’ve got to take these cackling hens to see Rhodes’ grave.’
‘That’s the stuff,’ said Jimmy approvingly. ‘They’ll come back bumped black and blue with the ruts in the road, and clamouring for bed to rest the bruises on. Then you and I will have a spot or two and exchange the news.’
‘Right. So long, Jimmy.’
Anthony rejoined his flock of sheep. Miss Taylor, the youngest and most skittish of the party, instantly attacked him. ‘Oh, Mr Cade, was that an old friend of yours?’
‘It was, Miss Taylor. One of the friends of my blameless youth.’
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