Three Character Girl

What is in your garden?

Stacking the letters before him neatly. He took the topmost letter, read the mailing address for a moment, then neatly opened the back of the envelope with a small paper knife he had kept at the breakfast table for urgent purposes like this, and take out the contents. Inside was another envelope glued tightly with candles. On the envelope it says 'Personal and Secret'. Both eyebrows of commissioner Saga rose slightly. He muttered, "Patience! The nouns allons arriver!" then again he used the small paper knife. This time the cover spewed out a letter - in fine handwriting. A few words were underlined thickly. Commissioner Saga read the letter after unfolding it. Again the letter begins with the word 'Personal and Secret'. On the right hand side of the paper are the addresses of Rosebank, Charman's Green, Bucks - as well as the date of the letter - March 21. Dear Commissioner Saga, An old friend who means a lot to me advised me to contact you. My friend is aware of the worries and difficulties that have gripped me lately. It is not because he knows the real problem - which I keep to myself entirely - that this issue is truly personal in nature. My best friend assured me that you are equal to wisdom itself - after all I need not worry about dealing with the police - which, should my suspicions prove to be true, is very undesirable. Of course I might be completely mistaken. Lately I have been feeling very sick with insomnia and due to several diseases that I had last winter - so I can not investigate my own problems. I have neither the tools nor the abilities. On the other hand, I must stress again that this is a very sensitive family issue, and for various reasons I may want this whole issue frozen. Suppose I am confident in the facts and able to deal with the matter myself, I would rather do so. I hope I explained my point. If you are willing to investigate this matter, please contact me at the address above. Sincerely, Amelia Barrowby commissioner Saga read the letter once again. Again his eyebrows were raised a little. Then he put the letter aside and took the next letter. At exactly 10:00 he entered the room where Miss Lemon, his personal secretary, was sitting waiting for the instructions he had to do that day. Miss Lemon was forty-eight years old and her appearance was not charming. The general impression of him is thin, his bones stand out, and appear sober. Like commissioner Saga, he likes everything to be organized. Although his thinking ability was decent, he never thought unless asked.commissioner Saga gave the incoming letters that morning to Miss Lemon. "Mademoiselle, please make a good rejection letter for all these letters." Miss Lemon glanced at the letters, and quickly affixed the Ancient Egyptian writing on each cover. These signs can only be read on their own because they are written in their personal codes: 'Soft soap'; 'slap'; 'kittens' snore'; 'rigid'; and so on. When she finished, she nodded and raised her head to listen to the next order, commissioner Saga held out a letter from Amelia Barrowby. Miss Lemon took out the contents of the letter from her double cover, read it carefully, then raised her head with a questioning face. "Yes, M. commissioner Saga?" His pencil wiggled - ready to write - on his stencil paper. "What do you think of this letter, Miss Lemon?" Frowning slightly, Miss Lemon put down her pencil, then read the letter once more. To Miss Lemon the contents of the letter meant nothing, unless she was asked to draft a good reply letter. Rarely does his employer demand his personal abilities, in addition to his work skills. A request like this irritates him a bit - because he looks like a machine, not interested in people's problems at all. In fact, his ambition in life was to create a perfect filing system so that all existing systems would no longer be used. He always dreamed of the system at night. Nonetheless, commissioner Saga knew that Miss Lemon was fully capable of dealing with purely human matters. "How's it?" commissioner Saga urged. "Based on granny" commented Miss Lemon. "So half-dead of fear." "ah! You think he's so scared?" Miss Lemon did not answer. He looked at the double-covered letter for a moment. "Very secret" he said. "And gave me nothing." "Indeed," commissioner Saga asserted. Once again Miss Lemon's hand hung expectantly on the shorthand paper. This time commissioner Saga responded. "Tell him I will meet him whenever he wishes, unless he would rather consult me here. Don't you write this letter - just write it by hand." "Well, M. Saga commissioner." commissioner Saga issued the letters again. "It's bills." Miss Lemon's efficient hands quickly grouped the bills. "I'll pay for everything but these two bills." "Why the two" There's nothing wrong with either." "The two companies have just been in contact with you. It feels bad to pay too fast when you just open an account - as if you want to get a good name later." "Aah!" commissioner Saga sighs. "I admit your knowledge of British entrepreneurs is greater than mine." "Virtually everything I know about them" said Miss Lemon grimly. *** A letter to Amelia Barrowby was written and sent as appropriate, but no reply. Perhaps, thought commissioner Saga, the old woman had already managed to unravel the mystery herself. However, commissioner Saga was somewhat surprised why he did not write a reply letter, just polite, to explain that his services were no longer needed. Five days later after receiving the duties in the morning, Miss Lemon said to commissioner Saga, "Miss Barrowby we gave the letter - it's not strange that there's no answer from her. He's dead." Hercule commissioner Saga said quietly, "Ah - died." His voice sounded neither like an answer nor a question. After opening her handbag, Miss Lemon held out a newspaper cutout. "I saw it on the train, then tore it up." It only occurred to commissioner Saga that even though Miss Lemon used the word 'tear', the news was neatly cut out, as she read the announcement cut from the column 'Birth, Death, and Marriage' the Morning Post. 'March 26 - sudden - in Rosebank, Charman's Green, Amelia Jane Barrowby, at the age of seventy-three. Please do not send flowers.' Commissioner Saga read the announcement again. He whispered, "Sudden." Then, he said quickly, "Please write this letter, Miss Lemon." The pencil in Miss Lemon's hand twitched. Miss Lemon, whose mind was filled with an elaborate filing system, wrote the shorthand with lightning but was correct. Dear Miss Barrowby, I have not received your reply. But since I'm going to be in the Charman area this Friday, I'm going to meet you that day to further discuss the issue you mentioned in the letter. Respect to me, etc. "Type this letter. If it's posted, it'll be at Charman tonight." The next day a letter in a black-brimmed cover arrived in the second post. Dear Commissioner Saga, In response to your letter, I need to inform you that my aunt, Miss Barrowby, has passed away on the 26th. Thus the matter you speak of in the letter is meaningless. Sincerely, Mary Delafontaine commissioner Saga smiled to herself. "Not mean anymore.... Ah, this is what we're gonna see. En avant - to Charman's Green." Rosebank is a house that lives up to its name, which is more beautiful than most houses on the same level. Hercule commissioner Saga paused for a moment as he crossed the path to the front door to look with pleasure at the neatly arranged garden on either side. The rose trees that promised a bountiful harvest of flowers in time, daffodils, tulips that began to expand, hyasinta - part of the last stretch of trees was restricted to oyster skin. commissioner Saga murmured to himself. "How did the English rhyme that the children were singing?"

Aunt Mary, good morning, whatever's in your garden" Shells and weeds, and a line of young ladies. "Not a row of ayu girls, perhaps," thought commissioner Saga, "but here at least there's an ayu girl." The front door was opened, and a neat little servant, wearing a hat and apron, hesitantly looked at the bushy-moustached foreign man who was speaking alone aloud in the front garden. As commissioner Saga saw it, the maid was a very handsome little girl, with round blue eyes and pink cheeks. Politely commissioner Saga lifted his hat and greeted the waiter, "Sorry, does Amelia Barrowby live here?" The waiter was surprised