"There have been a lot of men in her life," she pointed out.

"Oh yes, but I should say, wouldn't you, that men were an adventure to her, not a need?"

And would any woman, Miss Marple wondered, come to Bertram's Hotel for an assignation with a man? Bertram's was very definitely not that sort of place. But possibly that could be, to someone of Bess Sedgwick's disposition, the very reason for choosing it.

She sighed, looked up at the handsome grandfather clock decorously ticking in the corner, and rose with the careful effort of the rheumatic to her feet. She walked slowly towards the elevator. Lady Selina cast a glance around her and pounced upon an elderly gentleman of military appearance who was reading the Spectator.

"How nice to see you again. Er-it is General Arlington, isn't it?"

But with great courtesy the old gentleman declined being General Arlington. Lady Selina apologized, but was not unduly discomposed. She combined short sight with optimism and since the thing she enjoyed most was meeting old friends and acquaintances, she was always making this kind of mistake. Many other people did the same, since the lights were pleasantly dim and heavily shaded. But nobody ever took offense-usually indeed it seemed to give them pleasure.

Miss Marple smiled to herself as she waited for the elevator to come down. So like Selina! Always convinced that she knew everybody. She herself could not compete. Her solitary achievement in that line had been the handsome and well-gaitered Bishop of Westchester whom she had addressed affectionately as "dear Robbie" and who had responded with equal affection and with memories of himself as a child in a Hampshire vicarage calling out lustily, "Be a crocodile now, Aunty Janie. Be a crocodile and eat me."