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𝐷𝑒𝑡𝑎𝑖𝑙𝑠𝑜𝑓 𝑎 𝑠ℎ𝑜𝑐𝑘𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑛𝑒𝑤 𝑡𝑒𝑐ℎ 𝑡ℎ𝑎𝑡 ℎ𝑎𝑠𝑒𝑐𝑜𝑛𝑜𝑚𝑖𝑠𝑡𝑠𝑓𝑟𝑜𝑚 𝑀𝐼𝑇, 𝐻𝑎𝑟𝑣𝑎𝑟𝑑, 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝐵𝑜𝑠𝑡𝑜𝑛 𝐶𝑜𝑙𝑙𝑒𝑔𝑒 𝑏𝑒𝑙𝑖𝑒𝑣𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑡ℎ𝑎𝑡 𝑤𝑒 𝑎𝑟𝑒 𝑎𝑏𝑜𝑢𝑡 𝑡𝑜 𝑤𝑖𝑡𝑛𝑒𝑠𝑠𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑒𝑥𝑝𝑙𝑜𝑠𝑖𝑜𝑛 𝑜𝑓 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑏𝑖𝑔𝑔𝑒𝑠𝑡 𝑤𝑒𝑎𝑙𝑡ℎ 𝑔𝑎𝑝 𝑤𝑒’𝑣𝑒 𝑒𝑣𝑒𝑟 𝑠𝑒𝑒𝑛 𝑏𝑒𝑓𝑜𝑟𝑒 𝑖𝑛 ℎ𝑖𝑠𝑡𝑜𝑟𝑦. [Main logotype Expert Modern Advice](       Elon Musk calls [this nеw megatrend]( “one of the biggest threats to humankind.” Thanks to the rise of this emerging technology, doctors are at risk of losing their jobs. Lawyers are becoming obsolete. And it’s time for a sacrifice. An undergraduate college kid can nоw replace entire coding departments [thanks to this nеw tech]( And retirees who don’t adapt to this nеw era of technology right away… They may fall behind for good… MIT says this nеw but terrifying era of technology will amplify wealth inequality to an extreme degree… Luckily, one former Wall Street Insider just revealed the [оnly real way]( for everyday Americans to gеt ahead of this new megatrend — nоw — before they are left behind for good. Without his sоІutірn by your side, you don’t stand a сhаnсе in this nеw frontier. So before you miss out entirely… [Сlісk hеrе now to see how his breakthrough technology works…]( And how it can transform your retirement starting tоdау. Keith Kaplan CEO, TradeSmith     That's Her. said Mr. Burnaby, the landlord of the Three Crowns. He nudged his companion. The two men stared with round bucolic eyes and slightly mouths. A big scarlet Rolls-Royce had just ped in front of the local post ice. A girl jumped out, a girl without a hat and wearing a frock that looked (but looked) simple. A girl with golden hair and straight autocratic features--a girl with a lovely shape--a girl such as was seldom seen in MaltonunderWode. With a quick imperative step she passed into the post ice. That's her!'! said Mr. Burnaby again. And he went on in a low awed voice. s she's got .... Going to spend s on the place. Swimming pools t's going to be, and Italian gardens and a broom and a half of the house pulled down and rebuilt . . . She'll bring into the town, said his . He was a lean seedy-looking man. His tone was envious and grudging. Mr. Burnaby agreed. Yes, it's a thing for Malton-under-Wode. A thing it is. Mr. Burnaby was complacent about it. Wake us up proper, he added. Bit of a difference from Sir George, said the other. Ah, it was the 'orses did for him, said Mr. Burnaby indulgently. 'ad no luck. What did he for the place? A cool sixty , so I've heard. The lean man whistled. Mr. Burnaby went on triumphantly: And they say she'll have spent another sixty before she's finished! Wicked! said the lean man. W'd she that from? America, so I've heard. Her mother was the daughter of one of those aire blokes. Quite like the pictures, isn't it? The girl came out of the post ice and climbed into the car. As she drove the lean man followed her with his eyes. He muttered: It seems wrong to me---her looking like that. and looks--it's too much! Ifa girl's as rich as that she's no right to be a good-looker as well. And she is a good-looker... Got everything that girl has. Doesn't seem fair... ii Extr from the social column of the Daily Blague. Among those supping at Chez Ma Tante I noticed beautiful Linnet Ridgeway. She was with the Hon. Joanna Southwood, Lord dlesham and Mr. Toby Bryce. Miss Ridgeway, as everyone ks, is the daughter of Melhuish Ridgeway who married Anna Hartz. She inherits from her grandfather, Leopold Hartz, an immense fortune. The lovely Linnet is the sensation of the moment, and it is rumoured that an engagement may be announced shortly. Certainly Lord dlesham seemed very pris! The Hon. Joanna Southwood said: Darling, I think it's going to be ly marvellous! She was sitting in Linnet Ridgeway's bedroom at Wode H. From the dow the eye passed over the gardens to country with blue shadows of woodlands. It's rather , isn't it? said Linnet. She leaned her arms on the dow-sill. Her face was eager, alive, dynamic. Beside her, Joanna Southwood seemed, somehow, a little dim--a t, thin young woman of twenty-seven, with a long clever face and freakishly plucked eyebrows. And you've done so much in the time! Did you have lots of architects and things? Three. What are architects like? I don't think I've ever met any. They were right. I found them rather unprical sometimes. Darling, you put that right! You are the most prical creature! Joanna picked up a string of pearls from the dressing-table. I suppose these are real, aren't they, Linnet? Of course. I k it's 'of course' to you, my sweet, but it wouldn't be to most people. Heavily cultured or even Woolworth! Darling, they rey are incredible, so exquisitely matched. They must be worth the most fabulous sums! Rather vulgar, you think? No, not at --just pure beauty. What are they worth? About fifty . What a lovely lot of ! Aren't you afraid of having them stolen? No, I always wear them--and anyway they're insured. Let me wear them till dinner-time, will you, darling? It would give me such a thrill. Linnet laughed. Of course, if you like. You k, Linnet, I rey do envy you. You've simply got everything.. you are at twenty, your own mistress, with any amount of , looks, superb health. You've even got brains! When are you twenty-one? Next June. I sh have a grand coming-of-age party in London. And then are you going to marry Charles dlesham? the dreadful little gossip writers are ting so excited about it. And he rey is frightfully devoted. Linnet shrugged her shoulders. I don't k. I don't rey want to marry any one yet. Darling, how right you are! It's quite the same afterwards, is it? The telephone shrilled and Linnet went to it. Yes? Yes? The butler's voice answered her. Miss de Bellefort is on the line. Sh I put her through? Bellefort? Oh, of course, yes, put her through. A and a voice, an eager, soft, slightly breathless voice. Ho, is that Miss Ridgeway? Linnet.t 'Jackie darling.t I haven't heard anything I k. It's awful. Linnet, I want to see Darling, can't you come down ? My That's just what I want to do. Well, jump into a train or a car. Right, I will. A frightfully dilapidated of you for ages and ages.t you terribly. toy. I'd love to show it to you. two-seater. I bought it for fifteen pounds and some days it goes beautifully. But it has moods. If I haven't arrived by tea-time you'll k it's had a mood. So long, my sweet. Linnet replaced the receiver. She crossed back to Joanna. That's my oldest , Jacqueline de Bellefort. We were toher at a convent in Paris. She's had the most terribly bad luck. Her father was a French Count, her mother was American--a Southerner. The father went with some woman, and her mother lost her in the W Street crash. Jackie was left absolutely broke. I don't k how she's managed to along the last two years. Joanna was polishing her deep blood-coloured nails with her 's nail pad. She leant back with her head on one side scrutinising the effect. Darling, she drawled, 't that be rather tiresome? If any misfortunes happen to my s I always drop them at once.t It sounds heartless, but it saves such a lot of trouble later! They always want to borrow you, or else they start a dress-making business and you have to the most terrible clothes from them. Or they paint lampshades, or do Batik scarves. So if I lost my , you'd drop me tomorrow? Yes, darling, I would. You can't say I'm not honest about it! I like ful people. And you'll find that's true of nearly everybody--- most people 't admit it. They just say that 'rey they can't put up with Mary or Emily or Pamela any more! Her troubles have made her so bitter and peculiar, poor dear!' How beastly you are, Joanna! I'm on the make, like every one else. I'm not on the make! For obvious reasons! You don't have to be sordid when good-looking, middle-aged American trustees pay you over a vast owance every quarter. And you're wrong about Jacqueline, said Linnet. She's not a sponge. I've wanted to help her but she 't let me. She's as proud as the devil. What's she in such a hurry to see you for? I'll bet she wants something! You just wait and see. She sounded excited about something, admitted Linnet. Jackie always did frightfully worked up over things. She once stuck a penknife into some one! Darling, how thrilling! A boy who was teasing a dog. Jackie tried to him to . He wouldn't. She pulled him and shook him but he was much stronger than she was, and at last she whipped out a penknife and plunged it right into him. T was the most awful row! I should think so. It sounds most uncomfortable! Linnet's maid entered the room. With a murmured word of apology, she took down a dress from the wardrobe and went out of the room with it. What's the matter with Marie? asked Joanna. She's been crying. Poor thing. You k I told you she wanted to marry a man who has a job in Egypt. She didn't k much about him so I thought I'd better make sure he was right. It turned out that he had a already--and three children. What a lot of enemies you must make, Linnet. Enemies? Linnet looked surprised. Joanna nodded and helped herself to a cigarette. Enemies, my sweet. You're so devastatingly efficient. And you're so frightfully good at doing the right thing. Linnet laughed. Why, I haven't got an enemy in the world! il) Lord dlesham sat under the cedar tree. His eyes rested on the graceful proportions of Wode H. T was nothing to mar its old-world beauty, the buildings and additions were out of sight round the corner. It was a fair and peaceful sight bathed in the autumn sunshine. theless, as he gazed, it was no longer Wode H that Charles dlesham saw. Instead, he seemed to see a more imposing Elizabethan mansion, a long sweep of park, a bleaker background .... It was his own family seat, Charltonbury, and in the foreground stood a figurea girl's figure with bright golden hair and an eager confident face . . . Linnet as mistress of Charltonbury! He felt very hopeful. That refusal of hers had not been at a definite refusal. It had been little more than a plea for time. Well, he could afford to wait a little... How amazingly suitable the whole thing was. It was certainly advisable that he should marry , but not such a matter of necessity that he could regard himself as forced to put his own feelings on one side. And he loved Linnet. He would have wanted to marry her even if she had been pricy penniless instead of one of the richest girls in England. , fortunately, she was one of the richest girls in England .... His mind played with attrive plans for the future. The Mastership of the Roxdale perhaps, the restoration of the west g, no need to let the Scotch shooting .... Charles dlesham dreamed in the sun. It was four o'clock when the dilapidated little two-seater ped with a sound of crunching gravel. A girl got out of it--a sm slender creature with a mop of dark hair. She ran up the steps and tugged at the bell. A few minutes later she was being usd into the long stately drag-room, and an ecclesiastical butler was saying with the proper mournful intonation: Miss de Bellefort. Linnet! Jackie! dlesham stood a little aside, watching sympatheticy as this fiery little creature flung herself -armed upon Linnet. Lord dlesham--Miss de Bellefort--my best . A pretty child, he thought--not rey pretty but decidedly attrive with her dark curly hair and her enormous eyes. He murmured a few tful nothings and then managed unobtrusively to the two s toher. Jacqueline pouncedin a fashion that Linnet remembered as being chareristic of her. dlesham? dlesham? That's the man the papers always say you're going to marry! Are you, Linnet? Are you? Linnet murmured: Perhaps. Darling--I'm so glad! He looks nice. Oh, don't make up your mind about it--I haven't made up my own mind yet. Of course not! Queens always proceed with due deliberation to the choosing of a consort! Don't be ridiculous, Jackie. But you are a queen, Linnet! You always were. Sa MajestY, la reine Linette. Linette la blonde! And I--I'm the queen's confidante! The trusted Maid of Honour. What nonsense you talk, Jackie, darling. W have you been this time? You just disappear. And you write. I hate writing letters. W have I been? Oh, about three parts submerged, darling. In JOBS, you k. Grim jobs with grim women! Darling, I wish you'd--- Take the queen's bounty? Well, frankly darling, that's what I'm for. No, not to borrow . It's not got to that yet! But I've come to ask a big important favour! go on. If you're going to marry the dlesham man you'll understand, perhaps. Linnet looked puzzled for a minute, then her face cleared. Jackie, do you mean--Yes, darling, I'm engaged! So that's it! I thought you were looking particularly alive somehow. You · always do, of course, but even more than usual. That's just what I feel like. Tell me about him. His 's Simon Doyle. He's big and square and incredibly simple and boyish and utterly adorable! He's poor--got no . He's what you c 'county' right--but very impoverished county--a younger son and that. His people come from Devonshire. He loves country and country things. And for the last five years he's been in the city in a stuffy ice. And they're cutting down and he's out of a job. Linnet, I sh die if I can't marry him! I sh die! I sh die! I sh die... 1 Don't be ridiculous, Jaekie. I sh die, I tell you! I'm crazy about him. He's crazy about me. We can't live without each other. Darling, you have got it badly! I k. It's awful, isn't it? This love business s hold of you and you can't do anything about it. She paused for a minute. Her dark eyes dilated, looked suddenly tragic. She gave a little shiver. It's-even frightening sometimes! Simon and I were made for each other. I sh care for any one else. And you've got to help us, Linnet. I heard you'd bought this place and it put an idea into my head. Listen, you'll have to have a land agent--perhaps two. I want you to give the job to Simon. Oh! Linnet was startled. Jacqueline rushed on. He's got that sort of thing at his finger-tips. He ks about estates--was brought up on one. And he's got his business training too. Oh, Linnei, you will give him a job, 't you, for love of me? If.he doesn't make good, sack him. But he will. And we can live in a little house and I sh see lots of you and everything in the garden will be too, too divine. She got up. Say you will, Linnet. Say you will. Beautiful Linnet! T golden Linnet! My own very special Linnet! Say you will. Jackie-- You will? Linnet burst out laughing. Ridiculous Jackie! Bring along your young man and let me have a look at him and we'll talk it over. Jackie darted at her, kissing her exuberanfiy: Darling Linnet--you're a real ! I ] you were. You wouldn't let me down--ever. You're just the loveliest thing in the world. Goodbye. But, Jackie, you're staying. Me? No, I'm not. I'm going back to London and tomorrow I'll come back and bring Simon and we'll settle it up. You'll adore him. He rey is a pet. But can't you wait and just have tea? No, I can't wait, Linnet. I'm too excited. I must back and tell Simon. I k I'm mad, darling, but I can't help it. Marriage will cure me, I expect. It always seems to have a very sobering effect on people. She turned at the door, stood a moment, then rushed back for a last quick bird-like embrace. Dear Linnet--t's no one like you. M. Gaston Blondin, the proprietor of that modish little restaurant Chez Ma Tante, was not a man who delighted to honour many of his clientele. The rich, the beautiful, the notorious and the well-born might wait in vain to be signed out and paid special attention. in the rarest cases did M. Blondin, with gracious condescension, greet a guest, accompany him to a privileged table, and exchange with him suitable and apposite remarks. On this particular night, M. Blondin had exercised his royal prerogative three times--once for a duchess, once for a famous racing peer, and once for a little man of comical appearance with immense black moustaches and who, a casual ooker would have thought, could bestow no favour on Chez Ma Tante by his presence t. M. Blondin, however, was positively fulsome in his attentions. Though clients had been told for the last half-hour that a table was not to be had, one mysteriously appeared, placed in a most favourable position. M. Blondin conducted the client to it with every appearance of empressement. But, natury, t is always a table, M. Poirot! How I wish that you would honour us oftener. Hercule Poirot smiled, remembering that past incident a dead body, a waiter, M. Blondin, and a very lovely lady had played a part. You are too amiable, M. Blondin, he said. And you are alone, M. Poirot? Yes, I am alone. Oh, well, Jules will compose a little meal that will be a poem--positively a poem! Women, however charming, have this disadvantage, they distr the mind from food! You will enjoy your dinner, M. Poirot, I that. , as to e--- A technical conversation ensued. Jules, the maitre d'htel, assisting. Before departing, M. Blondin lingered a moment, lowering his voice confidentiy. You have grave affairs on hand? Poirot shook his head. I am, alas, a man of leisure, he said sadly. I have made the economies in my time and I have the means to enjoy a of idleness. I envy you. No, no, you would be unwise to do so. I can assure you, it is not so gay as it sounds. He sighed. How true is the saying that man was forced to invent work in to escape the strain of having to think. M. Blondin threw up his hands. But t is so much! T is travel! Yes, t is travel. Already I have done not so badly. This ter I sh visit Egypt, I think. The climate, they say, is superbl One will escape from the fogs, the greyness, the monotony of the constantly fing rain. Ah! Egypt, breathed M. Blondin. One can even voyage t , I believe, by train, escaping sea travel except the Channel. Ah, the sea, it does not agree with you? Hercule Poirot shook his head and shuddered slightly. I, too, said M. Blondin with sympathy. Curious the effect it has upon the stomach. But upon certain stomachs! T are people on whom the motion makes no impression whatever. They uy enjoy it! An unfairness of the good God, said M. Blondin. He shook his head sadly, and brooding on the impious thought, withdrew. Smooth-footed, deft-handed waiters ministered to the table. Toast Melba, butter, an ice-pail, the adjuncts to a meal of quality. The negro orchestra broke into an ecstasy of strange discordant noise. London danced. Hercule Poirot looked on, registering impressions in his neat ly mind. How bored and weary most of the faces were! Some of those stout men, however, were enjoying themselves . . . was a patient endurance seemed to be the sentiment exhibited on their partners' faces. The fat woman in purple was looking radiant .... Undoubtedly the fat had certain compensations in . . . a zest--a gustos-denied to those of more fashionable contours. A good sprinkling of young peoplesome vacant looking--some bored--some definitely unhappy. How absurd to c youth the time of happiness--youth the time of est vulnerability! His glance softened as it rested on one particular couple. A well-matched pair, t broad-shouldered man, slender delicate girl. Two bodies that moved in a rhythm of happiness. Happiness in the place, the hour, and in each other. The dance ped abruptly. Hands clapped and it started again. After a second encore the couple returned to their table c by Poirot. The girl was flushed, laughing. As she sat, he could study her face as it was lifted laughing to her companion. T was something else beside laughter in her eyes. Hercule Poirot shook his head doubtfully. She cares too much, that little one, he said to himself. It is not safe. No, it is not safe. And then a word caught his ear. Egypt. Their voices came to him clearly--the girl's.young, fresh, arrogant with just a trace of soft-sounding foreign Rs, and the man's pleasant, low-toned, well-bred English. I'm not counting my chickens before they're hatched, Simon. I tell you Linnet 't let us down! I might let her down. Nonsense it's just the right job . As a matter of f I think it is . . . I haven't rey any doubts as to my capability. And I mean to make good r sake! The girl laughed softly, a laugh of pure happiness. We'll wait three months--to make sure you don't the sack. And then-- And then I'll endow thee with my worldly goods--that's the hang of it, isn't it? And as I say, we'll go to Egypt for our honeymoon. Damn the expense! I've always wanted to go to Egypt my . The Nile and the pyramids and the sand... He said, his voice slightly indistinct: We'll see it toher, Jackie... toher. 't it be marvellous? I der. Will it be as marvellous to you as it is to me? Do you rey care as much as I do? Her voice was suddenly sharp--her eyes dilated--almost with fear. The man's answer came with an equal sharpness: Don't be absurd, Jackie. But the girl repeated: I der... Then she shrugged hr shoulders: Let's dance. Hercule Poirot murmured to himself: Un qui aime et un qui se laisse aimer. Yes, I der too. vii Joanna Southwood said: And suppose he's a terrible tough? Linnet shook her head. Oh, he 't be. I can trust Jacqueline's taste. Nothing much, he said. The Devenishes are ting a divorce. Old Monty's been had up for being drunk in charge of a car. dlesham's gone to Canada. Seems he was pretty badly hit when Linnet Ridgeway turned him down. She's definitely going to marry this land agent person. How extraordinary! Is he very dreadful? No, no, not at . He's one of the Devonshire Doyles. No , of course--and he was uy engaged to one of Linnet's best s. Pretty thick, that. I don't think it's at nice, said Mrs. erton fiushing Tim flashed her a quick affectionate glance. I k, darling. You don't approve of snaffling other people's husbands and that sort of thing. In my day we had our standards, said Mrs. erton. And a very good thing too! adays young people seem to think they can just go about doing anything they choose. Tim smiled. They don't think it. They do it. Vide Linnet Ridgeway! Well, I think it's horrid! Tim tkled at her. Cheer up, you old die-hard! Perhaps I agree with you. Anyway, I haven't helped myself to any one's or fiancee yet. I'm sure you'd do such a thing, said Mrs. erton. She added with spirit, I've brought you up properly. I wasn't born in 1879, Mrs. erton retorted with spirit. Sir George has charming manners and I 't have you cing him a horse coper. I've heard funny stories about him from people that k. You and Joanna don't mind what you say about peopleanything will do so long as it's sufficiently ill-natured. Tim raised his eyebrows. My dear, you're quite heated. I didn't k old Wode was such a favourite of yours. You don't realise how hard it is for him-having to sell Wode H. He cared terribly about that place. Tim suppressed the easy retort. After , who was he to judge? Instead he said thoughtfully: You k, I think you're not far wrong t. Linnet asked him to come down and see what she'd done to the place and he refused quite rudely. Of course. She ought to have kn better than to ask him. And I believe he's quite venomous about her--mutters things under his breath whe he sees her. Can't forgive her for having giving him an absolutely top for the wormeaten family estate. And you can't understand that? Mrs. erton spoke sharply. Frankly, said Tim calmly, I can't. Why live in the past? Why cling on to things that have been? What are you going to put in their place? He shrugged his shoulders. Excitement, perhaps. Novelty. The joy of king what may turn up from day to day. Instead of inheriting a useless tr of land, the pleasure of making rself by your own brains and skill. A ful on the Stock Exchange in f! He laughed: Why not? And what about an equal loss on the Stock Exchange? That, dear, is rather tless. And quite inappropriate to-day What about this Egypt plan? Well-- He cut in, smiling at her. That's settled. We've both always wanted to see Egypt. When do you suggest? Oh, next month. January's about time t. We'll enjoy the delightful society in this hotel a few weeks longer. Tim! said Mrs. erton reproachfully. Then she added guiltily. I'm afraid I promised Mrs. Leech that you'd go with her to the police station. She doesn't understand any Spanish. Tim made a grimace. About her ring? The blood red ruby of the horseleech's daughter? Does she still persist in thinking it's been stolen? I'll go if you like, but it's a waste of time. She'll some wretched chambermaid into trouble. I distinctly saw it on her finger when she went into the sea that day. It came in the water and she noticed. She says she is quite sure she took it and left it on her dressing-table. Well, she didn't. I saw it with my own eyes. The woman's a fool. Any woman's a fool who goes prancing into the sea in December pretending the water's quite warm just because the sun happens to be shining rather brightly at the moment.   ExpertModernAdvice.com is sending this newsletter on behalf Inception Media Group. This editorial email with educational news was sent to {EMAIL}. IMG appreciates your comments and inquiries. Please keep in mind, that Inception Media Group are not permitted to provide individualized financial аdvіsе. 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