But the next step involved action – a good deal of action – the kind of action for which she, herself, was physically unfit.
If her theory were to be definitely proved or disproved, she must at this point have help from some other person. The question was – who? Miss Marple reviewed various names and possibilities rejecting them all with a vexed shake of the head.
The intelligent people on whose intelligence she could rely were all far too busy. Not only had they all got jobs of varying importance, their leisure hours were usually apportioned long beforehand. The unintelligent who had time on their hands were simply, Miss Marple decided, no good.
She pondered in growing vexation and perplexity.
Then suddenly her forehead cleared. She ejaculated aloud a name.
"Of course!" said Miss Marple. "Lucy Eyelesbarrow!"
Chapter 4
The name of Lucy Eyelesbarrow had already made itself felt in certain circles.
Lucy Eyelesbarrow was thirty-two. She had taken a First in Mathematics at Oxford , was acknowledged to have a brilliant mind and was confidently expected to take up a distinguished academic career.
But Lucy Eyelesbarrow, in addition to scholarly brilliance, had a core of good sound common sense. She could not fail to observe that a life of academic distinction was singularly ill rewarded. She had no desire whatever to teach and she took pleasure in contacts with minds much less brilliant than her own. In short, she had a taste for people, all sorts of people – and not the same people the whole time. She also, quite frankly, liked money. To gain money one must exploit shortage.
Lucy Eyelesbarrow hit at once upon a very serious shortage – the shortage of any kind of skilled domestic labour. To the amazement of her friends and fellow-scholars, Lucy Eyelesbarrow entered the field of domestic labour.