Again he felt the girl shift in the darkness.
‘I don’t mind telling you, Monsieur Poirot, I am partly here for local colour. Snow on the Desert’s Face–that is the title of my new book. Powerful–suggestive. Snow–on the desert–melted in the first flaming breath of passion.’
Rosalie got up, muttering something, and moved away down into the dark garden.
‘One must be strong,’ went on Mrs Otterbourne, wagging the turban emphatically. ‘Strong meat–that is what my books are–all important. Libraries banned–no matter! I speak the truth. Sex–ah! Monsieur Poirot–why is everyone so afraid of sex? The pivot of the universe! You have read my books?’
‘Alas, Madame! You comprehend, I do not read many novels. My work–’
Mrs Otterbourne said firmly: ‘I must give you a copy of Under the Fig Tree. I think you will find it significant. It is outspoken–but it is real!’
‘That is most kind of you, Madame. I will read it with pleasure.’
Mrs Otterbourne was silent a minute or two.
Bwahahaha. I bet Christie had fun writing this. Surely, tho, it had to be exhausting to write a character that might only be silent for a minute or two. More exhausting than having to read about her. :)
Oh, and by the way, I am considering to adopt "fearless, unconventional, realistic" as damning descriptions for book reviews, too.
"Poirot took the volume which Mrs Otterbourne held out to him. It still bore its original jacket, a gaily coloured affair representing a lady, with smartly shingled hair and scarlet fingernails, sitting on a tiger skin, in the traditional costume of Eve. Above her was a tree with the leaves of an oak, bearing large and improbably coloured apples.
It was entitled Under the Fig Tree, by Salome Otterbourne. On the inside was a publisher’s blurb. It spoke enthusiastically of the superb courage and realism of this study of a modern woman’s love life. ‘Fearless, unconventional, realistic,’ were the adjectives used."