And Then There Were None

by Agatha Christie

There had been its original purchase by an American millionaire who was crazy about yachting and an account of the luxurious modern house he had built on this little island off the Devon coast.

Vera Claythorne, in a thirdclass carriage with five other travellers in it,

Miss Emily Brent sat very upright as was her custom. She was sixtyfive and she did not approve of lounging.

Dr. Armstrong was driving his Morris across Salisbury Plain. He was very tired...

"Emily Brent, Vera Claythorne, Dr. Armstrong, Anthony Marston, old Justice Wargrave, Philip Lombard, General Macarthur, C.M.G., D.S.O. Manservant and wife: Mr. and Mrs. Rogers."

"I'm talking to you, young man. The day of judgement is very close at hand." Subsiding onto his seat Mr. Blore thought to himself: "He's nearer the day of judgement than I am!" But there, as it happens, he was wrong...

Ten little Indian boys went out to dine; One choked his little self and then there were nine. Nine little Indian boys sat up very late; One overslept himself and then there were eight.

One got frizzled up and then there was one. One little Indian boy left all alone; He went and hanged himself and then there were none.

"She didn't have nothing last night, sir, except what you gave her..."

"Her own action her own sin that was what drove her to it. If she had behaved like a decent modest young woman none of this would have happened."