Agatha Christie

“ Women were all the same about diamonds.
The necessity of holding on with both hands to prevent himself being jerked out brought George Crozier back to the realities, He ejaculated for perhaps the fourteenth time, with the pardonable irritation of a man who owns two Rolls-Royce cars and who has exercised his stud on the highways of civilization: "Good Lord, what a car! What a road!" He went on angrily: "Where the devil is this tobacco estate, anyway? It's over an hour since we left Bulawayo."
"Lost in Rhodesia," said Deirdre lightly between two involuntary leaps into the air. ”

“ On the wall a text confronted her. "What shall it profit a man if he gain the whole world and lose his own soul?" it demanded of all and sundry, and Deirdre, pleasantly conscious that the question had nothing to do with her, turned to accompany her shy and rather silent guide. ”

“ Deirdre did not answer. She saw another picture—a table with tea things on it, and a woman bowing her head in acceptance of a lie.
"Well, well, the war has a lot to answer for," said Crozier, and stretched out his hand for a match, lighting his pipe with careful puffs. ”

“ Why, look at that diamond he bought me only the other day." And, thinking of il, her eyelids drooped a little in pure pleasure.
"This is where we thread the leaves." Walters led the way into a low, long shed. On the floor were vast heaps of green leaves, and white-clad black "boys" squatted round them, picking and rejecting with deft fingers, sorting them into sizes, and stringing them by means of primitive needles on a long line of string. They worked with a cheerful leisureliness, jesting amongst themselves, and showing their while teeth as they laughed. ”

“ She smiled a slow, twisted smile, and murmured some words that he did not catch, words that she had chosen for the original obituary notice of Tim Nugent's death. "While the light lasts I shall remember, and in the darkness I shall not forget." ”

“ Then she was alone, staring at the untasted tea. And, strangely enough, it was only one thing that she saw—a gaudily illuminated text hanging on a whitewashed wall. The words seemed to spring out from it and hurl themselves at her. "What shall it profit a man—" She got up, paid for her tea, and went out,
On his return George Crozier was met by a request that his wife might not be disturbed, Her headache, the maid said, was very bad.
It was nine o'clock the next morning when he entered her bedroom, his face rather grave. Deirdre was sitting up in bed. ”