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Giving feedback to your manager can be tricky. What if they don’t like what you say? What if they take it the wrong way? What if they turn against you? People refuse to give candid feedback to their managers because they don’t want to put their jobs at risk. This prevents most managers from getting an accurate picture of how others view them, often creating a huge gap between perception and reality. When you don’t share what they need to hear, don’t expect your manager to improve or blame them for repeating behaviors and actions that hurt their team and impact your productivity and performance. Just like your manager is expected to share constant feedback to help you learn and grow, you also need to contribute to your manager's growth. All managers have blind spots—unknowns that are in their circle of awareness (known unknowns) and things they don’t even know (unknown unknowns). There are lurking gaps in how they see themselves (or their actions) and how others perceive them leading to inadvertent blind spots. This is further exacerbated by their past beliefs, experiences, upbringing and many other psychological factors. Without reconciling reality, these blind spots perpetuate disconnect and dissonance with people. It may be uncomfortable at first to tell your manager what they’re doing wrong—you’ve to fight your fears and resist your instinct to avoid dealing with them. But with practice and experience, you’ll get better at it. Your courage will inspire others to do it too, contributing to a healthy workplace with a feedback rich environment. When you give yourself permission to communicate what matters to you in every situation you will have peace despite rejection or disapproval. Putting a voice to your soul helps you to let go of the negative energy of fear and regret. — Shannon L. Alder Help your managers become better leaders by giving them the feedback they need. Follow these practices to ensure your feedback lands right: Check whether they’re receptive to feedback Giving feedback to your manager is risky, no doubt. That’s why you shouldn’t do it without gauging whether they’re receptive to it. Toxic managers will not react poorly to your feedback; they will hold it against you. These managers believe in power structures where feedback is expected to flow only in one direction—from top to bottom. They take feedback personally as it hurts their ego and question their place in the hierarchy. They are blind to their flaws and refuse to address them. Instead of treating feedback as a gift, they treat it as a slap in the face. To determine if your manager is open to feedback, start with a low-stakes situation and identify how they react to it. Share your feedback on a very small matter—do they show curiosity to learn more about the feedback, or do they shut you down? How do they behave afterward—show resentment or appreciate you? Starting small also makes it easier when you have some critical feedback to share. Once you’ve built trust and relationships with the manager by sharing small improvement areas, they will be more open-minded when you have something big or bold to say. Don’t waste your time and energy on a manager who treats feedback as a one-way street. It’s time to change teams or find another job if they aren’t receptive to feedback and their behavior is getting in the way of your growth. State your intentions When you don’t state your intentions explicitly, others are bound to create a story around it—that’s just how the human mind works. Intentions are invisible. We assume them from other people’s behavior. In other words, we make them up, we invent them. But our invented stories about other people’s intentions are accurate much less often than we think. — Douglas Stone Intentions play a big role in how your feedback is received. When you are judgmental and opinionated, when you argue and attack their story, when you tell them how to do their job, your manager is more likely to get defensive than to explore your point of view. \When you show up with the intent to ask questions, make suggestions, raise concerns, challenge ideas, and find better ways to work together, or help them improve, they are more likely to take your feedback positively and may even decide to act on it. Don’t let your manager play a guessing game—clearly state your intention. For example, you may say: My intent is to find better ways to communicate so that we can avoid communication gaps. *My intent is to find the best possible solution. I want to discuss how we can encourage more disagreements in the team.* My intent is to get more visibility around my work. Can we discuss how you can enable this for me as a manager? Explicitly stating what you desire from the conversation and why you’re approaching them prevents them from attaching their own meaning. They can focus on the solution when they know you have their best intentions at heart. Frame it right Your manager has hundreds of things to do, most of which are not visible to you. It’s very important for you to realize that you may not have all the context to understand why your manager behaved a certain way in a particular situation unless you’re actually doing your manager's job. So, instead of judgment, lead with observation. Leave room for understanding and curiosity. Don’t draw conclusions from your limited interactions with your manager, and treat them as a source of truth. How you frame the feedback determines the reaction and response you get. Framing that involves blame, complaining, or a judgmental tone can never get you the outcomes you desire. If you want your feedback to be received well, frame it right—describe the situation followed by your observation (without judgment and opinion), then state the impact as you see it with an open-ended question to get their perspective. Talking about the impact their behavior has on others and how it prevents them from achieving their goals makes it much easier to understand. Ending with an open-ended question invites them to share how they view the situation or what they can do to help. Right framing = Situation + Observation + Impact + Open-Ended Question For example: Instead of: You don’t care about our ideas. Say: In our meeting yesterday, you asked the team for their input (situation). However, I noticed that whenever someone shared their viewpoint that didn’t align with the original idea, you dismissed their suggestion without exploring it completely (observation). Rejecting ideas this way makes the team feel that their opinions don’t matter. They will be demotivated to speak up next time around (impact). How do you suggest we encourage healthy disagreements in the team while aligning on the goal of finding the best possible solution (open-ended question)? Instead of: You don’t trust us with more responsibilities. Say: I wanted to discuss work allocation and responsibilities in the team (situation). I have noticed that you always have too many things to do in a day. At the same time, the team feels more than ready to take on additional responsibilities (observation). Not getting an opportunity to handle next-level responsibilities is preventing the team from growing while doing all that work by yourself, leaving you tired and exhausted (impact). What do you suggest we can do to gain your trust so that you can delegate more work to the team (open-ended question)? Here are a few do’s and don'ts of framing it right: Don’t tell them how to do their job. Don’t generalize or attack their character. Focus on a specific behavior or action. Don’t be opinionated or fixated on a single point of view. Show flexibility when changing your point of view. Don’t presume you have complete visibility into their situation. Be respectful and polite. Seek their input or advice. It makes them invested in the problem. Embrace silence. Give them time to chew on the information. Framing your solution negatively, such as “Don’t shout at me,” tends to focus the other’s attention even more on the unwanted behavior and may unconsciously reinforce it, particularly if you are shouting back at them. It is more effective to say, quietly, “Please talk to me in a quiet tone.” Focus the other’s mind clearly on the positive action you want them to take. — William Ury When giving feedback to your manager, take time to decide what you’re going to say. Without thinking about it upfront, you may say things that you regret later. Do it in person When giving feedback, what you convey through your eyes, hand gestures, and body language matters as much as what you say in words. These non-verbal cues play a significant role in determining how your feedback is understood and received. While giving feedback to your manager, it may be easy to drop an email or message or do it over a phone call. But your chances of being misunderstood or not delivering feedback effectively go higher when you avoid meeting them in person. When giving feedback, it’s very important for both the feedback giver and the receiver to observe the body language. Carrying yourself in a powerful way directs your feelings, thoughts, behaviors, and body to feel powerful and be present (and even perform better) in situations ranging from the mundane to the most challenging. — Amy Cuddy Your positive body language can speak a lot about your intention and can guide the conversation in a positive direction. Your manager's body language can serve as a hint on how they’re processing the information and give you useful signals on whether to continue speaking or keep your mouth shut. When giving feedback to your manager, always do it face-to-face. Tune your body to send out positive vibes—open, honest and self-assured—and not exude a negative body language—closed or judgmental. With a casual and respectful tone, your manager will be more likely to take your feedback constructively instead of feeling misunderstood, offended or disrespected. Respect is like air. As long as it's present, nobody thinks about it. But if you take it away, it's all that people can think about. The instant people perceive disrespect in a conversation, the interaction is no longer about the original purpose—it is now about defending dignity. — Ron McMillan Summary Your manager is not perfect. They, too, have gaps, much like everyone else. Don’t avoid giving them feedback just because it’s uncomfortable and risky. Not all managers are receptive to feedback. Some might hold it against you. Start with a low stake situation, share feedback with your manager and gauge their reaction. Your intentions play a significant role in how your feedback is perceived. Don’t leave your manager guessing or attach meaning to your words. Clearly state your intention. Right framing of the feedback can get your managers attention and invite them to problem solve instead of turning defensive. Always give feedback to your manager face-to-face. Don’t ignore the power of your body language—what you convey through non-verbal cues matters as much as what you say in words. Also published . here

How to Give Constructive Criticism to Your Manager

USA v. Samuel Bankman-Fried Court Filing, retrieved on March 15, 2024 is part of . You can jump to any part in this filing . This part is 27 of 33. HackerNoon’s Legal PDF Series here IV. The Defendant’s History and Characteristics Do Not Warrant a Significant Variance Bankman-Fried’s personal history and characteristics do not warrant a variance from what should be a lengthy sentence of incarceration. Unlike many criminals who come before the Court who began life with almost nothing, Bankman-Fried began with and continued throughout his life to enjoy substantial advantages over others in society. (See Def Mem. at 39-43 (summarizing Bankman-Fried’s comfortable upbringing and education at MIT)). After getting a sought-after job at an “elite quantitative trading firm” earning hundreds of thousands of dollars (Def. Mem. at 43), Bankman-Fried started two companies that could have been successful without fraud. Indeed, as he emphasized during trial, FTX earned around a billion dollars a year in transaction fees by users. But the defendant chose to abandon honest work to pursue profit and influence through crime, and he used the proceeds of those crimes to enjoy his own lifestyle of affluence. The fact that he chose to engage in a massive fraud is an aggravating factor, not a mitigating one. Urging leniency, the defendant has submitted several letters from friends and family attesting to his character. From those, he argues that the evidence at trial did not show the “real Sam.” The fact that the version of the defendant presented at trial is unrecognizable to his family and friends does not mean that the defendant did not willfully engage in enormously damaging conduct. Humans are complicated, and the capacity of one person to be generous while also committing heinous crimes is almost unexplainable. Famously, Madoff was described by several people as a “generous person” who paid for employees’ honeymoons, purchased a machine to read to a blind man, arranged for medical care of an employee’s mother after a stroke, and assisted another employee in her efforts to adopt a child. See United States v. Bonventre, No. 10 Cr. 228 (LTS) (S.D.N.Y.) (Trial Tr. 2649, 2850, 7550, 9501, 10198). This is all to say that the defendant could be honest with his family while he lied to customers and investors; he could behave in a selfless manner with friends while being motivated by influence, power, fame, and wealth in his business. The defendant’s father, brother, and psychiatrist all submitted letters suggesting that Bankman-Fried is not motivated by greed. (Def. Mem. at 50-52). While that may be their experience, the trial record demonstrates otherwise: the defendant engaged in a myriad of fraudulent conduct to maximize his business’s earnings and his own wealth. He may have claimed that he intended to give all his money away, but the evidence at trial demonstrated that the defendant lived in an expensive penthouse apartment, owned other properties, bought a home for his parents, gifted his parents millions of dollars, named the Miami Heat’s sports arena after FTX, paid for a Superbowl advertisement, paid millions of dollars to K5 to be connected to celebrities and politicians, made risky venture investments, flew around in a private jet, and made millions of dollars in political donations. The defendant makes a point in his sentencing submission to note his charitable giving. (Def. Mem. at 46-50). But that was charity with other people’s money. The defendant’s contributions to the FTX Foundation, which he now highlights, and his brother’s pandemic prevention non-profit, Guarding Against Pandemics, were paid for with customers’ funds routed through Alameda. (GX-1035, 1040). Even if that were not the case, prior charitable works, however commendable and extensive, by professionally successful defendants rarely, if ever, should be considered a materially mitigating factor because, as courts have previously recognized, it is not extraordinary for such individuals to be involved in charities. See, e.g., United States v. Barbera, No. 02 Cr. 1268 (RWS), 2005 WL 2709112, at *12-13 (S.D.N.Y. Oct. 21, 2005); United States v. Fishman, 631 F. Supp. 2d 399, 403 (S.D.N.Y. 2009) (a defendant’s “good name and good works” should not serve as “the human shield he raises to seek immunity or dramatic mitigation of punishment when he is caught”). Indeed, many defendants do not have the resources—in time, money, or social standing—to perform such deeds, and so the law is reticent to show leniency to the few defendants who are fortunate enough to have such options. See, e.g., United States v. Vrdolyak, 593 F.3d 676, 682 (7th Cir. 2010) (“Wealthy people commonly make gifts to charity. They are to be commended for doing so but should not be allowed to treat charity as a get-out-ofjail card.”); United States v. Ali, 508 F.3d 136, 149 & n.17 (3d Cir. 2007) (charitable service is “evaluated with reference to the offender’s wealth and status in life” because defendants “who enjoy sufficient income and community status . . . have the opportunities to engage in charitable and benevolent activities.” (citations and quotation marks omitted)); United States v. McClatchey, 316 F.3d 1122, 1135 (10th Cir. 2003) (“[E]xcellent character references are not out of the ordinary for an executive who commits white-collar crime; one would be surprised to see a person rise to an elevated position in business if people did not think highly of him or her.”). Bankman-Fried should not be credited with charitable giving when it was done with fraud proceeds and its benefits pale in comparison to the damage done by his fraud. Continue Reading . Here About HackerNoon Legal PDF Series: We bring you the most important technical and insightful public domain court case filings. This court case retrieved on March 15, 2024, from is part of the public domain. The court-created documents are works of the federal government, and under copyright law, are automatically placed in the public domain and may be shared without legal restriction. storage.courtlistener

Charity or Fraud? Uncover the Truth About Sam Bankman-Fried’s Criminal Conduct

USA v. Samuel Bankman-Fried Court Filing, retrieved on March 15, 2024 is part of . You can jump to any part in this filing . This part is 1 of 33. HackerNoon’s Legal PDF Series here The Government respectfully submits this memorandum in advance of the sentencing of Samuel Bankman-Fried, presently scheduled for March 28, 2024, and in response to the defendant’s sentencing memorandum dated February 27, 2024 (“Def. Mem.”). PRELIMINARY STATEMENT Samuel Bankman-Fried was convicted of orchestrating one of the largest financial frauds in history, and what is likely the largest fraud in the last decade. The enormous scale of the fraud at FTX is measured not just by the amount of money that was stolen, although the more-than-$8 billion of customer money that was misappropriated puts this crime in a class of cases that can be counted on one hand. The unprecedented scope of the fraud at FTX may also be measured in the number and types of victims, in the fraud’s geographic reach, and in the breadth and frequency of the unlawful and unethical acts undertaken by the defendant in service of a scheme to use other people’s money for his own benefit and influence. The defendant victimized tens of thousands of people and companies, across several continents, over a period of multiple years. He stole money from customers who entrusted it to him; he lied to investors; he sent fabricated documents to lenders; he pumped millions of dollars in illegal donations into our political system; and he bribed foreign officials. Each of these crimes is worthy of a lengthy sentence. The losses from each of the defendant’s frauds—on customers, investors, and lenders—would alone put the defendant’s advisory sentencing range at the top of the Guidelines. His unlawful political donations to over 300 politicians and political action groups, amounting to in excess of $100 million, is believed to be the largest-ever campaign finance offense. His bribe of Chinese government officials—totaling $150 million—was one of the single largest by an individual. Even following FTX’s bankruptcy and his subsequent arrest, Bankman-Fried shirked responsibility, deflected blame to market events and other individuals, attempted to tamper with witnesses, and lied repeatedly under oath. With all the advantages conferred by a comfortable upbringing, an MIT education, a prestigious start to his career in finance, and a worthy idea for a startup business, Bankman-Fried could have pursued the rewarding, productive, and altruistic life he has sketched out in his sentencing submission. But instead, his life in recent years has been one of unmatched greed and hubris; of ambition and rationalization; and courting risk and gambling repeatedly with other people’s money. And even now Bankman-Fried refuses to admit what he did was wrong. Having set himself on the goal of amassing endless wealth and unlimited power—to the point that he thought he might become President and the world’s first trillionaire—there was little BankmanFried did not do to achieve it. While he did not spend the money he stole on nice clothes or cars, that does not mean his life has not been defined by excess. The trial record puts the lie to the statements in his submission that he was “never motivated by greed” and “eschews materialistic trappings.” Using customers’ and investors’ money, the defendant bought luxury real estate; he made risky investments that he otherwise could not afford; he made charitable donations (for which he still takes credit) using other people’s money; he made political contributions using other people’s money to get unrivaled access to political leaders; he promoted his company in a Super Bowl ad; he named a basketball arena after his company; and he paid for access to celebrities, to name just a few of the things on which he spent money. And unlike so many defendants before this Court, there are no persuasive mitigating conditions to explain his criminal conduct. His crimes are not the product of dire financial circumstances, passion or impulse, or a momentary lapse of judgment. Unlike other white collar offenders, the losses the defendant is responsible for are not borne exclusively by sophisticated investors or extrapolated based on a stock price drop. The victims, on the other hand, include tens of thousands of everyday people. People who entrusted the defendant with their money, and relied on it being there when they wanted to withdraw it. The victims in this case include people who deposited their retirement funds and nest eggs with FTX; they include people in war-torn or financially insecure countries, who counted on FTX as a place to keep money safe; they include people who could not afford to have their money taken or rendered unavailable. They include people who lost their “entire life savings,” no longer have money to pay for a sick family member or children’s education, were deprived of the chance to “break generational poverty,” and are “devastated” and “heartbroken.” So the fact that two years later victims may receive some money back through FTX’s bankruptcy is of little comfort for those victims who needed the money in November 2022. The suffocating sense of dread and despair that victims felt when they could not withdraw their money, their shame and embarrassment, and the resulting damage to lives and businesses, cannot be undone through the bankruptcy. The assertions that customers will be repaid in full omit critical context about the nature of the claims allowed in the bankruptcy. And even as victims are repaid, that is the result of extensive work in the bankruptcy process and criminal forfeiture, not the result of the defendant’s actions, which in many respects have been counterproductive. All of this conduct was willful. In every part of his business, and with respect to each crime committed, the defendant demonstrated a brazen disrespect for the rule of law. He understood the rules, but decided they did not apply to him. He knew what society deemed illegal and unethical, but disregarded that based on a pernicious megalomania guided by the defendant’s own values and sense of superiority. And he knew his customers’ expectations—that he would hold their money safe—but he disregarded them based on a callous belief that he could put their money to better use. The scope, duration, nature, and sheer number of Bankman-Fried’s crimes, the resulting harm they have caused, the willful disregard of the rule of law, and the absence of countervailing mitigating circumstances render him exceptionally deserving of a sentence that is sufficiently severe to provide justice for the defendant’s crimes and to dissuade others from committing similar crimes, and that will permit the defendant to return to liberty only after society can be assured that he will not have the opportunity to turn back to fraud and deceit. Although it is unlikely (but not impossible) that the defendant will work in finance again, and will likely forfeit all of his ill-gotten gains, justice requires that he receive a prison sentence commensurate with the extraordinary dimensions of his crimes. For these reasons, the legitimate purposes of punishment require a sentence of 40 to 50 years’ imprisonment. Continue Reading . Here About HackerNoon Legal PDF Series: We bring you the most important technical and insightful public domain court case filings. This court case retrieved on March 15, 2024, from is part of the public domain. The court-created documents are works of the federal government, and under copyright law, are automatically placed in the public domain and may be shared without legal restriction. storage.courtlistener Lead image source: Lam Yik/Bloomberg via Getty Images

US Prosecutor Argues that SBF Deserves 40-50 Years in Prison

ইউএস প্রসিকিউটর যুক্তি দেন যে SBF 40-50 বছরের কারাগারের যোগ্য

US-Staatsanwalt argumentiert, dass SBF 40 bis 50 Jahre Gefängnis verdient

Fiscal estadounidense sostiene que SBF merece entre 40 y 50 años de prisión

Le procureur américain affirme que SBF mérite 40 à 50 ans de prison

अमेरिकी अभियोजक का तर्क है कि एसबीएफ 40-50 साल की जेल का हकदार है

米検察、SBFは懲役40～50年に値すると主張

미국 검찰, SBF가 40~50년 징역형을 받아야 한다고 주장

Promotor dos EUA argumenta que SBF merece 40-50 anos de prisão

Прокурор США утверждает, что SBF заслуживает 40-50 лет тюрьмы

ABD Savcısı SBF'nin 40-50 Yıl Hapis Cezasını Hak Ettiğini Savundu

Công tố viên Hoa Kỳ lập luận rằng SBF đáng phải nhận mức án 40-50 năm tù

美国检察官辩称SBF应被判处40-50年监禁

Markus Lanieux Fled a Traffic Stop - He's Now Doing Life in Prison

Markus Lanieux একটি ট্রাফিক স্টপ পালিয়ে গেছে - তিনি এখন কারাগারে জীবন করছেন

Markus Lanieux floh vor einer Verkehrskontrolle – jetzt sitzt er im Gefängnis

Markus Lanieux escapó de una parada de tráfico y ahora cumple cadena perpetua

Markus Lanieux a fui un contrôle routier – il purge désormais une peine de prison à vie

मार्कस लैनियक्स ट्रैफिक स्टॉप से भाग गया - वह अब जेल में जीवन बिता रहा है

マルクス・ラニュー、交通停止から逃走 - 現在は刑務所で暮らしている

Markus Lanieux는 교통 정체를 피해 도망쳤으며 현재 감옥에서 생활하고 있습니다.

Markus Lanieux fugiu de uma parada de trânsito - agora ele está cumprindo prisão perpétua

Маркус Ланье сбежал с остановки и теперь ведет жизнь в тюрьме

Markus Lanieux Trafik Durdurmasından Kaçtı - Şimdi Müebbet Hapis Cezasında

Markus Lanieux Chạy trốn khỏi điểm dừng giao thông - Anh ta hiện đang sống trong tù

马库斯·拉尼厄克斯 (Markus Lanieux) 逃离了交通堵塞 - 他现在在监狱里过着生活

Hello. My name is Alexander, and I’m a solo entrepreneur, formerly a Lead Software Engineer. Currently, I’m involved in launching and developing my third project — a for domain monitoring. Telegram bot I want to talk about the fears that hinder developers and others from launching their projects. Some of these fears were present for me, and some persist to this day. Often, I observe them in my acquaintances and close friends. We try to hide our fears, mask them, and show them to no one. Let's talk about it openly; it is crucial to realize and start working on overcoming these fears to move forward. Fear of failure What if my project doesn't take off? There's this fear that I'll feel ashamed and awkward in front of friends or colleagues because it didn't work out. Especially when someone asks: "How's your project? Is it progressing?" I feel like people will start thinking I'm a failure. This powerful fear exists only in my head, so why not reprogram myself to be seen by friends and colleagues as someone who is not afraid to try? Perhaps deep down, my acquaintances may criticize themselves for not starting something and being afraid to initiate. Through my actions, I can inspire them to start something and move toward their goals. If it doesn't take off the first time, it will be on the second or third. There's nothing wrong with that, and there shouldn't be. Need to learn a lot It's true; you have to learn a lot. Learning should be gradual, systematic, and continuous. You need to create your learning plan and consume new information in small portions. There's no need to dive in headfirst. It's important to remember that knowledge, or more accurately, the aspiration for extensive knowledge, can negatively impact launching your product. I haven't written a line of code yet, and I'm already thinking about whether it's better to choose an Individual Entrepreneur or a Limited Liability Company. Or maybe I should first figure out how to attract investments. Solve tasks as they come, and don't do unnecessary work. Lack of free time In this case, similar to trying to engage in sports or start learning a foreign language, there's a shortage of time. There's always time; you can allocate 30 minutes to 1 hour every day to your project. If you break down tasks into atomic parts that can be solved within 1 hour and solve one task every day, you'll see results in the form of dozens of completed tasks in a month. A systematic approach works well with time management. One hour a day, every day, preferably in the morning before work or daily responsibilities, while the mind is clear and not cluttered. All important and challenging tasks should always be done in the morning. In the evening, other tasks will come up, such as fatigue, the desire to relax, watch YouTube, and spend a few hours on that. Upbringing and school Childhood and school years leave subtle imprints on our subconscious. Personally, I received a dose of constraints from parents, relatives, and teachers during my childhood. Throughout my childhood, school, and university education, I was ingrained with certain attitudes. Sometimes it happened unconsciously and naturally from relatives. "Without connections and acquaintances, you won't achieve anything in life. Let's get you a job at the power station where • Uncle John is the chief." "You can't earn money through honest work. All entrepreneurs are thieves." "Don't stand out and don't attract attention; just be like everyone else." "Maybe you should stop messing around and find a regular job?" I still remember my school teacher telling my mom that I wouldn't achieve anything in life. It took me a long time to understand this. Why do adults say such things? Perhaps they are right; they have experience, and they are older than me, so I should listen to them. Nothing could be further from the truth; this is the most dangerous trap. Soviet power erased some important qualities from the people of that time, such as entrepreneurship and creativity. Procrastination For me, procrastination isn't scrolling through social media or watching YouTube videos. My procrastination looks like this: when I need to work on my project, finish the MVP, do marketing and promotion, or write articles to share my project, instead, I start inventing and implementing features and functionalities that are not needed at the moment. I haven't implemented protection against brute-force attacks in my project. Seriously, protection against brute force when there are only a few users, including me, a friend, and my mom? Instead of writing an article and promoting the project, I spent several days programming and testing protection against brute-force attacks. This happens because my brain resists learning, acquiring new knowledge, or doing mental work in which I lack experience. Brain learning requires more energy than routine activities. Perfectionism Another disease and the cause of the demise of tens of thousands of startups. It manifests strongly when we polish the design of the website or product as if it's a beauty pageant. We spend weeks adjusting pixels and changing fonts or colors. When we start rewriting code that was written a few months ago it now seems like bad code. We need to tidy up the code do it scientifically with patterns and adhere to just as we like. SOLID principles, When we overcomplicate functionality. When we polish the project to the point where the number of bugs is zero. Open your task manager at your current job. I'm sure there are around 1000 tasks, some of which have been sitting there for several years. Nothing terrible is happening at work; users continue using the service, new users come, some leave, and life continues. Can't find a job After working on my startup, no one will want to hire me. I remember being afraid to post my resume for a PHP programmer position after 5 years of unsuccessful attempts to launch my web studio. I thought that no one would want to hire a lone wolf who even looks into the forest when he's full. I was terribly wrong. If I ever have to build a team for a new startup, I would prefer people who have created their own products. These people are idea generators, hard workers, quick learners, and have decent soft and hard skills. Most likely, in 2–3 years, they will leave for greener pastures again once they improve their financial situation or develop a new project. Ask any HR how long, on average, a developer stays in one place? You might be surprised to hear the figure of 2.5 years. By working on my project, I stagnate because there is no development; I don't solve complex problems and don't gain real experience on live projects. In addition, young specialists have grown up and are already stepping on my heels. What if I become an obsolete specialist? At this point, the fear should intensify, and I go to the job market to check if my specialty is in demand and what hard skills are required. Need confidence in tomorrow Alright, the moment arrives when my pet project demands more of my time. Balancing the development of my project and work becomes challenging. The realization hit that I needed to quit my job and dedicate all my free time to the project. But what about my livelihood? Will my savings be enough, and for how long? Maybe I should save more money just to be sure? Here, I go through all the fears mentioned earlier as if they're dancing in my head. No matter how much you accumulate, it will always feel insufficient. There will always be a fear of running out of money, and an image pops up in your mind of cooking instant noodles on a heating pipe. In reality, this fear is unfounded. Humans adapt quickly to any environment. Expenses on unnecessary purchases and things are cut. Lavish trips to restaurants and bars cease. Opting for more modest accommodation or moving to a private house for fresh air is also a good idea. Yes, living frugally will be a fact. Judgment Fear of being judged that my product is not good enough. That the product is raw, not thoroughly developed. Fear that I'll receive numerous negative ratings and comments. All of this eventually leads to paranoia about my weakness, incompetence, and intellectual backwardness and contributes to the development of various complexes. I need to understand for myself that I'm launching a project to receive feedback and gather metrics. This is exactly what needs to be done. I need to learn to let negativity pass by and not pay any attention to it because a person on the other side of the screen might just feel ordinary human annoyance and envy since you are doing something and creating, and it's not about your product at all. An exercise that helps is to realize that you are not even acquainted with this person, and you will simply pass by on the street, and a few hours later, he will forget about your existence, just as you will about his. Keep in mind that the Russian-speaking internet space is the most toxic. On English-speaking specialized platforms, more people leave positive comments and try to support. Look at the reviews for cafes and restaurants. Usually, people write only negative reviews; few write positive ones if they like the restaurant. This applies to my posts on the internet. If I received several sarcastic or unpleasant comments, and overall, everyone else remained silent, it means the publication went well. Fear of publicity Wondering how I will appear in the eyes of others. What a terrible voice I have and those bags under my eyes in my video. No, kill me, but I won't publish a video with my face and voice. Even if I forcibly overcome this fear and publish a video, the first toxic or sarcastic comment might discourage me from making the next video or article. Judging my appearance or voice, my peculiarities - this is only in my head, and I am the one emphasizing it. Remember when was the last time you paid condemning attention to someone's hairstyle, appearance, or speaking quirks and when you directly told them about it? Now you understand that it's only in our heads? Conclusion We must work with our fears; they hinder us from being happy and doing what we want. The universal and magical remedy is a systematic approach and the fight against fear, through discomfort, through willpower. Fears are just limitations we impose on ourselves. Open the door to courage, and they will disappear. Good luck. My is where I share ideas and the process of working on my projects. Twitter Also published . here

Why Developers Struggle With Launching Their Projects: Insights From My Personal Experience

, as a metaverse avatar in . David Smooke Web 2.5 (short film) Today we have the privilege of sitting down with David Smooke, the Founder and CEO of HackerNoon. With a unique journey from the East Coast to the West Coast and now in Colorado, David has been at the helm of a platform that has become a thriving hub for technology enthusiasts. We’ll dive into David’s insights about HackerNoon, his vision for the platform, and his own journey from the world of technology to becoming a steward of quality content. David, you mentioned growing up on the East Coast. How did your childhood and family shape your interests and passions, eventually leading you to the world of technology and entrepreneurship? I was lucky enough to have two great parents. That plus a bit of natural intelligence, gave me the confidence to make my own thing. In school, I excelled at math – even earning a perfect score on math SATs –  and struggled with English – getting a few hundred points less than perfect on my reading SATs. As I aged, I learned I care less about math and more about words. As a child, did you display any particular traits or interests that hinted at your future as an entrepreneur and leader? In 8th grade English, our homework was to copy many pages from the grammar book, and I had just gained access to my first printer scanner. I scanned the grammar book, printed the pages, and pasted them into my notebook and a friend’s notebook. The teacher did not appreciate, welcome or reward this use of technology. How did your experiences and upbringing on the East Coast differ from the West Coast, and how did each environment contribute to your personal growth and outlook on life? The east coast has more ice than snow, so I suppose that made me rigid but I always appreciated growing up with more seasonal variety. Getting a college scholarship to head to California was, at the time, a dream come true.  Now, I like living with a true four seasons in Colorado. Many entrepreneurs credit early entrepreneurial ventures during their childhood, like lemonade stands or small businesses. Did you have any such experiences that ignited your entrepreneurial spirit? I was a failed teenage eBay shirt reseller. I went to the thrift shops to try and find the high priced brands in decent condition. I underestimated how much logistics, listings, messages, shipping, and just work it takes to make ecommerce work. Were there any hobbies or extracurricular activities you pursued during your childhood that had a lasting impact on your approach to problem-solving and creativity? I used to be a pretty competitive ski racer, and have always been a consistent basketball player and walker. From walking, I learned patience. All you have to do is keep walking, exercising the forefront thoughts, and then the back of your mind will solve – or at least make progress on – your more difficult problems. Basketball challenges me to consider how to make my teammates better, and ski racing taught me how to show up on time and go fast. How do you think your upbringing and childhood experiences have influenced your leadership style and decision-making as the CEO of HackerNoon? Due to my upbringing at home with a tight knit family and at school with smaller class sizes, I tend to get the most out of small teams. I love that , paraphrasing ‘give me three bad motherf*ckers and I can take over a country. With a small team, it’s easier to remain transparent about the company’s strengths, weaknesses, opportunities, and threats. and care about outcomes bigger than themselves. Joey Diaz quote I like working with people who have skin in the game What were some of the most significant personal challenges you faced while building and scaling the platform, and how did you overcome them? Looking back, it’s hard to just do it every day for 8+ years. Some days the kids are sick, some days you are tired, and being an entrepreneur often requires just plugging along anyways. How do you ensure the team’s alignment with the mission of HackerNoon, and how has being a part of this team influenced your personal growth? In terms of aligning interest, we currently only hire from and every potential hire has a part-time contract first – to mutually confirm working together long-term is a good fit. Our team is 18 people fulltime – and that is not many people to manage a community of our size: 1k+ shareholders, 3k+ customers, 45k+ contributing writers and 4M+ monthly readers. I’ve learned a ton from our amazing team about what to build, how to sell, when to think long-term, and why this green blob will grow. our careers page How has curating and learning from the vast pool of knowledge on HackerNoon shaped your own understanding of the tech industry and personal development as a lifelong learner? Learned about Bitcoin via a HackerNoon story submission, and I hodl a couple Bitcoins, so that’s helpful. I’ll check in on the editorial que everyday, editing and publishing some my favorite HackerNoon contributors. Lately, I’ve been thinking and tinkering more on how to determine what to read next. Nothing like a story that reaches you at the right time. How has managing relationships with shareholders impacted your personal growth as an entrepreneur and CEO? We are a publishing platform that was bootstrapped for a few years, then fundraised via and .  We send fairly robust letters to 1,300+ shareholders. We publish shortened versions of them on our . Each one forces a thorough reflection of the business. And as the top shareholder with , we do work to reach and exceed our own standards first. I’m very appreciative of the belief the internet’s found in HackerNoon. We’ve remained an entirely common stock company. equity crowdfunding strategic rounds from technology companies like Arweave official State of the Noonion account Linh Dao Smooke What key strategies or decisions do you attribute to the platform’s rapid expansion and popularity within the technology community? From where I’m sitting, it’s been more like two steps forward one step back on loop – than rapid expansion. But thank you 🙂  We’ve increased revenue for 6 years in a row, and doubled it for 5 of those years. That means we are a consistently 2x business, but never really a 10x or 100x overnight rapid success. In terms of the larger need we filled, blogging can be very lonely. Knowing there’s who wants to help edit and distribute stories can mean the difference between an original thought circulating in the world or not. someone on the other side of the screen What sets apart from other technology publications, and what are your future plans for its growth and success? HackerNoon We exist in between social media and traditional media. Like social networking platforms, we welcome anyone to author original insights, no ‘journalist’ credentials needed to . But unlike social media and more similar to traditional journalism, every single story is edited by one of our human editors, and only the top-quality stories get featured on the homepage, translated into 13 languages, and featured atop our newsletters. Our distribution engine is over half million social media followers and half a million email addresses. We also build most of our tech ourselves, from the custom Content Management System (CMS) that powers HackerNoon.com, to our and Noonies Voting software, to our various AI integrations within the HackerNoon editor. Our future plan for growth is to simply make more money than we spend. We have built enough infrastructure now, and demonstrated many years in a row that we could (and did) achieve profitability. create an account or submit a story Startups of the Year How do you manage potential conflicts and maintain a positive and inclusive environment for all contributors and readers in HackerNoon’s diverse global community? We try. It’s impossible to be everything to everyone. We invest heavily in documentation. Through and , we can answer almost every incoming question (mostly via , but occasionally via as well) with an explanation, a helpful tip, or a clarification. For example, one of the most common questions was why a story is rejected, which makes useful. We also attempt to serve the diverse needs of our readers by and . Translated stories also have their own homepages (such as ), and their own newsletters, and very soon, podcast feeds. HackerNoon Help The Editing Protocol our Contact form social media this Help Doc allowing up to 8 different translations on select stories creating an audio file for every story this one Can you share insights into how you’ve built and maintained strong relationships with 2,000+ tech companies as customers and how they’ve contributed to the platform’s growth? We’ve actually managed to serve so far 🙂 The most common reason businesses reach out to HackerNoon staff is to get their company mentioned on HackerNoon. Many of our larger customers started with the request to publish a single blog post. Over time, we became a part of more publishing routines, and have moved more of our ad packages into , such as this , or this .  One of our top revenue sources is , and the first writing contest was devised in collaboration with the customer, EverScale, who didn’t want to just advertise, but rather wanted to . So together, we came up with a plan to reward the best stories on the . almost 4000 businesses public places with buy buttons Startups Special package Trial Credit for Business Blogging form writing contests incentivize discussion of the #decentralized-internet #decentralized-internet tag With millions of monthly readers, how do you handle potential privacy and data security concerns, ensuring user information is adequately protected? The majority of our traffic is on cached story pages, so it’s not like we’re a bank. But we do try to keep all our packages and dependencies as up-to-date as we can.  It can feel like a , but for sustainable growth, maintenance is often as important as expansion. Google’s been a great partner for DevOps, we stick to our simple privacy policy, and we have a small bug bounty program.  Ultimately I think people would rather have their problems fixed than have the problems of others exploited. slog David, your upcoming documentary with the tagline “Is Web 3 really the future, or just a passing trend for people looking to make a quick buck?” sounds fascinating. Can you tell us more about the inspiration behind this project and what motivated you to explore the topic of Web 3 and its potential impact on the technology landscape? We’ve published , and I’m fairly certain the internet’s been and will be rebuilt a number of times. At our team’s core, everyone documents. It’s natural to experiment with new forms as a company and evolve. We’ll see how it goes! 15k+ Web3 text stories How can people find out more about HackerNoon and connect with you? Read 🙂 Download the Mobile app ( , ). , I still edit a couple of stories a week, maybe I’ll be your editor 🙂 HackerNoon Apple Google Play Or write your first tech story hackernoon.com/about/David Blog.DavidSmooke.net DavidSmooke.net HackerNoon.com/TechBeat LinkedIn.com/in/ClackKent X.com/DavidSmooke HackerNoon.com/u/David HackerNoon.com/Publish-with-us Also Published as “ ” Forging the Future of Digital Discourse Tech Alchemist: David Smooke

Digital Discourse and The Future of HackerNoon with Creator and CEO David Smooke

ক্রিয়েটর এবং সিইও ডেভিড স্মুকের সাথে ডিজিটাল ডিসকোর্স এবং হ্যাকারনুনের ভবিষ্যত

Digitaler Diskurs und die Zukunft von HackerNoon mit Schöpfer und CEO David Smooke

Discurso digital y el futuro de HackerNoon con el creador y director ejecutivo David Smooke

Discours numérique et avenir de HackerNoon avec le créateur et PDG David Smooke

क्रिएटर और सीईओ डेविड स्मूक के साथ डिजिटल डिस्कोर्स और द फ्यूचर ऑफ हैकरनून

クリエイター兼 CEO の David Smooke と語るデジタルディスコースと HackerNoon の未来

제작자이자 CEO인 David Smooke와 함께하는 디지털 담론과 HackerNoon의 미래

Discurso digital e o futuro do HackerNoon com o criador e CEO David Smooke

Цифровой дискурс и будущее HackerNoon с создателем и генеральным директором Дэвидом Смуком

Yaratıcı ve CEO David Smooke ile Dijital Söylem ve HackerNoon'un Geleceği

Diễn ngôn kỹ thuật số và Tương lai của HackerNoon với Người sáng tạo và Giám đốc điều hành David Smooke

与创始人兼首席执行官 David Smooke 探讨数字话语和 HackerNoon 的未来

88 Stories To Learn About Music

In this YouTube interview with Eddie Konialian, the founder and CEO of DirectRope, we delved into the transformative potential of blockchain technology in the realm of referral networking. Eddie firmly believes that blockchain technology holds the key to the future of referral networking. He noted, "Blockchain is a game changer in referral networking." He explained that by operating on a , DirectRope ensures that individuals have complete control over their data while maintaining data accuracy and validation. Eddie added, blockchain "There's an environment where we can coexist with existing CRMs where we can share data and share information with our users. And that user can feel empowered by owning that data." The following is a summary of the key points from our discussion. You can watch the full interview by clicking on the link below: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=jPdFnJPBRN4&embedable=true A Journey Rooted in Collaboration Eddie's journey into the world of referral networking is marked by his upbringing, which instilled in him the values of collaboration and working with others. Reflecting on his family's influence, Eddie noted, "Our upbringing had allowed us to work with people to get goals accomplished." His background, having emigrated from the Middle East to the United States during the Lebanese Civil War, laid the foundation for his unique approach to business and leadership. With over two decades of experience in the financial industry, Eddie has held key managerial and executive roles, where he placed a strong emphasis on accountability, mutual growth, and individual empowerment. He shared, "It's about not only asking my employees to be loyal to me, but I wanted to be loyal to my employees by teaching them by making sure that they were self-sufficient in everything that they did, and always started off with knowledge." The Trilateral Referral Concept: Empowering Customers DirectRope, under Eddie's leadership, champions the trilateral referral concept. This innovative approach goes beyond traditional unilateral or bilateral referral methods by actively involving customers in the referral process. Eddie believes this approach empowers customers by giving them a say in who contacts them and underlines the importance of networking with the customer's needs and preferences in mind. Eddie stated, "The whole trilateral concept is being able to network with the customer in mind and the customer involved." DirectRope's Founding Vision: Data Ownership and Transparency DirectRope emerged from a vision to revolutionize the referral process. Eddie explained, "We want to give people the ability to own their own data... DirectRope is understanding your return on activity and your network's return on activity versus just simply your return on investment." Enhancing Networking Opportunities with Trust and Transparency DirectRope's primary goal is to enhance networking opportunities by bringing transparency and trust into the equation. Eddie emphasized, "With DirectRope, we are trying to make sure that everybody knows who they're dealing with and who they're working with. That way, the relationships are strong from the beginning and last longer." Blockchain as the Game Changer Eddie firmly believes that blockchain technology holds the key to the future of referral networking. He noted, "Blockchain is a game changer in referral networking." He explained that by operating on a blockchain, DirectRope ensures that individuals have complete control over their data while maintaining data accuracy and validation. Eddie added, "There's an environment where we can coexist with existing CRMs where we can share data and share information with our users. And that user can feel empowered by owning that data." DirectRope in Action DirectRope, in practice, automates historical networking practices transparently. Eddie described it as "Humans have networked for years on end...but now we're doing it in an automated fashion." He emphasized the platform's focus on trust and transparency, ensuring that users can rely on real results without the potential for data manipulation. Words of Wisdom for Startup Founders In closing, Eddie shared valuable advice for fellow startup founders: "Believe in yourself and your vision." He acknowledged the roller-coaster journey of entrepreneurship, with its ups and downs and moments of doubt. Eddie emphasized that unwavering commitment to one's ideas and vision will ultimately lead to success. He also cautioned about recognizing the point of no return, emphasizing that crossing this threshold can mean the difference between pursuing entrepreneurial dreams and returning to a salaried employee role. Eddie's core message revolved around self-belief and emotional resilience as the keys to navigating the startup world and bringing innovative ideas to life. Conclusion Eddie Konialian has invaluable insights into the innovative world of referral networking and the transformative potential of blockchain technology. His journey, shaped by a background of collaboration and accountability, underscores the importance of fostering genuine relationships in business.

Blockchain For Referral Marketing: A Conversation With DirectRope CEO Eddie Konialian

The Murder on the Links by Agatha Christie, is part of the HackerNoon Books Series. You can jump to any chapter in this book here . An Amazing Statement XX. An Amazing Statement The next moment Poirot embraced me warmly. “Enfin! You have arrived. And all by yourself. It is superb! Continue your reasoning. You are right. Decidedly we have done wrong to forget Georges Conneau.” I was so flattered by the little man’s approval that I could hardly continue. But at last I collected my thoughts and went on. “Georges Conneau disappeared twenty years ago, but we have no reason to believe that he is dead.” “Aucunement,” agreed Poirot. “Proceed.” “Therefore we will assume that he is alive.” “Exactly.” “Or that he was alive until recently.” “De mieux en mieux!” “We will presume,” I continued, my enthusiasm rising, “that he has fallen on evil days. He has become a criminal, an apache, a tramp—a what you will. He chances to come to Merlinville. There he finds the woman he has never ceased to love.” “Eh eh! The sentimentality,” warned Poirot. “Where one hates one also loves,” I quoted or misquoted. “At any rate he finds her there, living under an assumed name. But she has a new lover, the Englishman, Renauld. Georges Conneau, the memory of old wrongs rising in him, quarrels with this Renauld. He lies in wait for him as he comes to visit his mistress, and stabs him in the back. Then, terrified at what he has done, he starts to dig a grave. I imagine it likely that Madame Daubreuil comes out to look for her lover. She and Conneau have a terrible scene. He drags her into the shed, and there suddenly falls down in an epileptic fit. Now supposing Jack Renauld to appear. Madame Daubreuil tells him all, points out to him the dreadful consequences to her daughter if this scandal of the past is revived. His father’s murderer is dead—let them do their best to hush it up. Jack Renauld consents—goes to the house and has an interview with his mother, winning her over to his point of view. Primed with the story that Madame Daubreuil has suggested to him, she permits herself to be gagged and bound. There, Poirot, what do you think of that?” I leaned back, flushed with the pride of successful reconstruction. Poirot looked at me thoughtfully. “I think that you should write for the Kinema, mon ami,” he remarked at last. “You mean—?” “It would make a good film, the story that you have recounted to me there—but it bears no sort of resemblance to everyday life.” “I admit that I haven’t gone into all the details, but—” “You have gone further—you have ignored them magnificently. What about the way the two men were dressed? Do you suggest that after stabbing his victim, Conneau removed his suit of clothes, donned it himself, and replaced the dagger?” “I don’t see that that matters,” I objected rather huffily. “He may have obtained clothes and money from Madame Daubreuil by threats earlier in the day.” “By threats—eh? You seriously advance that supposition?” “Certainly. He could have threatened to reveal her identity to the Renaulds, which would probably have put an end to all hopes of her daughter’s marriage.” “You are wrong, Hastings. He could not blackmail her, for she had the whip hand. Georges Conneau, remember, is still wanted for murder. A word from her and he is in danger of the guillotine.” I was forced, rather reluctantly, to admit the truth of this. “Your theory,” I remarked acidly, “is doubtless correct as to all the details?” “My theory is the truth,” said Poirot quietly. “And the truth is necessarily correct. In your theory you made a fundamental error. You permitted your imagination to lead you astray with midnight assignations and passionate love scenes. But in investigating crime we must take our stand upon the commonplace. Shall I demonstrate my methods to you?” “Oh, by all means let us have a demonstration!” Poirot sat very upright and began, wagging his forefinger emphatically to emphasize his points. “I will start as you started from the basic fact of Georges Conneau. Now the story told by Madame Beroldy in court as to the ‘Russians’ was admittedly a fabrication. If she was innocent of connivance in the crime, it was concocted by her, and by her only as she stated. If, on the other hand, she was not innocent, it might have been invented by either her or Georges Conneau. “Now in this case we are investigating, we meet the same tale. As I pointed out to you, the facts render it very unlikely that Madame Daubreuil inspired it. So we turn to the hypothesis that the story had its origin in the brain of Georges Conneau. Very good. Georges Conneau, therefore, planned the crime with Madame Renauld as his accomplice. She is in the limelight, and behind her is a shadowy figure whose alias is unknown to us. “Now let us go carefully over the Renauld Case from the beginning, setting down each significant point in its chronological order. You have a notebook and pencil? Good. Now what is the earliest point to note down?” “The letter to you?” “That was the first we knew of it, but it is not the proper beginning of the case. The first point of any significance, I should say, is the change that came over M. Renauld shortly after arriving in Merlinville, and which is attested to by several witnesses. We have also to consider his friendship with Madame Daubreuil, and the large sums of money paid over to her. From thence we can come directly to the 23rd May.” Poirot paused, cleared his throat, and signed to me to write. “23rd May. M. Renauld quarrels with his son over latter’s wish to marry Marthe Daubreuil. Son leaves for Paris. “24th May. M. Renauld alters his will, leaving entire control of his fortune in his wife’s hands. “7th June. Quarrel with tramp in garden, witnessed by Marthe Daubreuil. “Letter written to M. Hercule Poirot, imploring assistance. “Telegram sent to Jack Renauld, bidding him proceed by the Anzora to Buenos Ayres. “Chauffeur, Masters, sent off on a holiday. “Visit of a lady, that evening. As he is seeing her out, his words are ‘Yes, yes—but for God’s sake go now. …’ ” Poirot paused. “There, Hastings, take each of those facts one by one, consider them carefully by themselves and in relation to the whole, and see if you do not get new light on the matter.” I endeavoured conscientiously to do as he had said. After a moment or two, I said rather doubtfully: “As to the first points, the question seems to be whether we adopt the theory of blackmail, or of an infatuation for this woman.” “Blackmail, decidedly. You heard what Stonor said as to his character and habits.” “Mrs. Renauld did not confirm his view,” I argued. “We have already seen that Madame Renauld’s testimony cannot be relied upon in any way. We must trust to Stonor on that point.” “Still, if Renauld had an affair with a woman called Bella, there seems no inherent improbability in his having another with Madame Daubreuil.” “None whatever, I grant you, Hastings. But did he?” “The letter, Poirot. You forget the letter.” “No, I do not forget. But what makes you think that letter was written to M. Renauld?” “Why it was found in his pocket and—and—” “And that is all!” cut in Poirot. “There was no mention of any name to show to whom the letter was addressed. We assumed it was to the dead man because it was in the pocket of his overcoat. Now, mon ami, something about that overcoat struck me as unusual. I measured it, and made the remark that he wore his overcoat very long. That remark should have given you to think.” “I thought you were just saying it for the sake of saying something,” I confessed. “Ah, quelle idée! Later you observed me measuring the overcoat of M. Jack Renauld. Eh bien, M. Jack Renauld wears his overcoat very short. Put those two facts together with a third, namely that M. Jack Renauld flung out of the house in a hurry on his departure for Paris, and tell me what you make of it!” “I see,” I said slowly, as the meaning of Poirot’s remarks bore in upon me. “That letter was written to Jack Renauld—not to his father. He caught up the wrong overcoat in his haste and agitation.” Poirot nodded. “Précisement! We can return to this point later. For the moment let us content ourselves with accepting the letter as having nothing to do with M. Renauld père, and pass to the next chronological event.” “May 23rd,” I read, “M. Renauld quarrels with his son over latter’s wish to marry Marthe Daubreuil. Son leaves for Paris. I don’t see anything much to remark upon there, and the altering of the will the following day seems straightforward enough. It was the direct result of the quarrel.” “We agree, mon ami—at least as to the cause. But what exact motive underlay this procedure of M. Renauld’s?” I opened my eyes in surprise. “Anger against his son of course.” “Yet he wrote him affectionate letters to Paris?” “So Jack Renauld says, but he cannot produce them.” “Well, let us pass from that.” “Now we come to the day of the tragedy. You have placed the events of the morning in a certain order. Have you any justification for that?” “I have ascertained that the letter to me was posted at the same time as the telegram was despatched. Masters was informed he could take a holiday shortly afterwards. In my opinion the quarrel with the tramp took place anterior to these happenings.” “I do not see that you can fix that definitely—unless you question Mademoiselle Dabreuil again.” “There is no need. I am sure of it. And if you do not see that, you see nothing, Hastings!” I looked at him for a moment. “Of course! I am an idiot. If the tramp was Georges Conneau, it was after the stormy interview with him that Mr. Renauld apprehended danger. He sent away the chauffeur, Masters, whom he suspected of being in the other’s pay, he wired to his son, and sent for you.” A faint smile crossed Poirot’s lips. “You do not think it strange that he should use exactly the same expressions in his letter as Madame Renauld used later in her story? If the mention of Santiago was a blind, why should Renauld speak of it, and—what is more—send his son there?” “It is puzzling, I admit, but perhaps we shall find some explanation later. We come now to the evening, and the visit of the mysterious lady. I confess that that fairly baffles me, unless it was Madame Daubreuil, as Françoise all along maintained.” Poirot shook his head. “My friend, my friend, where are your wits wandering? Remember the fragment of cheque, and the fact that the name Bella Duveen was faintly familiar to Stonor, and I think we may take it for granted that Bella Duveen is the full name of Jack’s unknown correspondent, and that it was she who came to the Villa Geneviève that night. Whether she intended to see Jack, or whether she meant all along to appeal to his father we cannot be certain, but I think we may assume that this is what occurred. She produced her claim upon Jack, probably showed letters that he had written her, and the older man tried to buy her off by writing a cheque. This she indignantly tore up. The terms of her letter are those of a woman genuinely in love, and she would probably deeply resent being offered money. In the end he got rid of her, and here the words that he used are significant.” “ ‘Yes, yes, but for God’s sake go now,’ ” I repeated. “They seem to me a little vehement, perhaps, that is all.” “That is enough. He was desperately anxious for the girl to go. Why? Not only because the interview was unpleasant. No, it was the time that was slipping by, and for some reason time was precious.” “Why should it be?” I asked, bewildered. “That is what we ask ourselves. Why should it be? But later we have the incident of the wrist watch—which again shows us that time plays a very important part in the crime. We are now fast approaching the actual drama. It is half-past ten when Bella Duveen leaves, and by the evidence of the wrist watch we know that the crime was committed, or at any rate that it was staged, before twelve o’clock. We have reviewed all the events anterior to the murder, there remains only one unplaced. By the doctor’s evidence, the tramp, when found, had been dead at least forty-eight hours—with a possible margin of twenty-four hours more. Now, with no other facts to help me than those we have discussed, I place the death as having occurred on the morning of June 7th.” I stared at him, stupefied. “But how? Why? How can you possibly know?” “Because only in that way can the sequence of events be logically explained. Mon ami, I have taken you step by step along the way. Do you not now see what is so glaringly plain?” “My dear Poirot, I can’t see anything glaring about it. I did think I was beginning to see my way before, but I’m now hopelessly fogged.” Poirot looked at me sadly, and shook his head. “Mon Dieu! But it is triste! A good intelligence—and so deplorably lacking in method. There is an exercise most excellent for the development of the little grey cells. I will impart it to you—” “For Heaven’s sake, not now! You really are the most irritating of fellows, Poirot. For goodness’ sake, get on and tell me who killed M. Renauld.” “That is just what I am not sure of as yet.” “But you said it was glaringly clear?” “We talk at cross-purposes, my friend. Remember, it is two crimes we are investigating—for which, as I pointed out to you, we have the necessary two bodies. There, there, ne vous impatientez pas! I explain all. To begin with, we apply our psychology. We find three points at which M. Renauld displays a distinct change of view and action—three psychological points therefore. The first occurs immediately after arriving in Merlinville, the second after quarrelling with his son on a certain subject, the third on the morning of June 7th. Now for the three causes. We can attribute No. 1 to meeting Madame Daubreuil. No. 2 is indirectly connected with her since it concerns a marriage between M. Renauld’s son and her daughter. But the cause of No. 3 is hidden from us. We have to deduce it. Now, mon ami, let me ask you a question; who do we believe to have planned this crime?” “Georges Conneau,” I said doubtfully, eyeing Poirot warily. “Exactly. Now Giraud laid it down as an axiom that a woman lies to save herself, the man she loves, and her child. Since we are satisfied that was Georges Conneau who dictated the lie to her, and as Georges Conneau is not Jack Renauld, follows that the third case is put out of court. And, still attributing the crime to Georges Conneau, the first is equally so. So we are forced to the second—that Madame Renauld lied for the sake of the man she loved—or in other words, for the sake of Georges Conneau. You agree to that.” “Yes,” I admitted. “It seems logical enough.” “Bien! Madame Renauld loves Georges Conneau. Who, then, is Georges Conneau?” “The tramp.” “Have we any evidence to show that Madame Renauld loved the tramp?” “No, but—” “Very well then. Do not cling to theories where facts no longer support them. Ask yourself instead who Madame Renauld did love.” I shook my head perplexed. “Mais, oui, you know perfectly. Who did Madame Renauld love so dearly that when she saw his dead body, she fell down in a swoon?” I stared dumbfounded. “Her husband?” I gasped. Poirot nodded. “Her husband—or Georges Conneau, whichever you like to call him.” I rallied myself. “But it’s impossible.” “How ‘impossible?’ Did we not agree just now that Madame Daubreuil was in a position to blackmail Georges Conneau?” “Yes, but—” “And did she not very effectively blackmail M. Renauld?” “That may be true enough, but—” “And is it not a fact that we know nothing of M. Renauld’s youth and upbringing? That he springs suddenly into existence as a French Canadian exactly twenty-two years ago?” “All that is so,” I said more firmly, “but you seem to me to be overlooking one salient point.” “What is it, my friend?” “Why, we have admitted Georges Conneau planned the crime. That brings us to the ridiculous statement that he planned his own murder!” “Eh bien, mon ami,” said Poirot placidly, “that is just what he did do!” About HackerNoon Book Series: We bring you the most important technical, scientific, and insightful public domain books. This book is part of the public domain. Agatha Christie (2019). The Murder on the Links. Urbana, Illinois: Project Gutenberg. Retrieved https://www.gutenberg.org/cache/epub/58866/pg58866-images.html This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org , located at https://www.gutenberg.org/policy/license.html.

An Amazing Statement

The Murder on the Links by Agatha Christie, is part of the HackerNoon Books Series. You can jump to any chapter in this book here . Gabriel Stonor X. Gabriel Stonor The man who entered the room was a striking figure. Very tall, with a well knit athletic frame, and a deeply bronzed face and neck, he dominated the assembly. Even Giraud seemed anaemic beside him. When I knew him better I realized that Gabriel Stonor was quite an unusual personality. English by birth, he had knocked about all over the world. He had shot big game in Africa, travelled in Korea, ranched in California, and traded in the South Sea Islands. He had been secretary to a New York railway magnate, and had spent a year encamped in the desert with a friendly tribe of Arabs. His unerring eye picked out M. Hautet. “The examining magistrate in charge of the case? Pleased to meet you, M. le juge. This is a terrible business. How’s Mrs. Renauld? Is she bearing up fairly well? It must have been an awful shock to her.” “Terrible, terrible,” said M. Hautet. “Permit me to introduce M. Bex—our commissary of police, M. Giraud of the Sûreté. This gentleman is M. Hercule Poirot. M. Renauld sent for him, but he arrived too late to do anything to avert the tragedy. A friend of M. Poirot’s, Captain Hastings.” Stonor looked at Poirot with some interest. “Sent for you, did he?” “You did not know, then, that M. Renauld contemplated calling in a detective?” interposed M. Bex. “No, I didn’t. But it doesn’t surprise me a bit.” “Why?” “Because the old man was rattled! I don’t know what it was all about. He didn’t confide in me. We weren’t on those terms. But rattled he was—and badly!” “H’m!” said M. Hautet. “But you have no notion of the cause?” “That’s what I said, sir.” “You will pardon me, M. Stonor, but we must begin with a few formalities. Your name?” “Gabriel Stonor.” “How long ago was it that you became secretary to M. Renauld?” “About two years ago, when he first arrived from South America. I met him through a mutual friend, and he offered me the post. A thundering good boss he was too.” “Did he talk to you much about his life in South America?” “Yes, a good bit.” “Do you know if he was ever in Santiago?” “Several times, I believe.” “He never mentioned any special incident that occurred there—anything that might have provoked some vendetta against him?” “Never.” “Did he speak of any secret that he had acquired whilst sojourning there?” “No.” “Did he ever say anything at all about a secret?” “Not that I can remember. But, for all that, there was a mystery about him. I’ve never heard him speak of his boyhood for instance, or of any incident prior to his arrival in South America. He was a French Canadian by birth, I believe, but I’ve never heard him speak of his life in Canada. He could shut up like a clam if he liked.” “So, as far as you know, he had no enemies, and you can give us no clue as to any secret to obtain possession of which he might have been murdered?” “That’s so.” “M. Stonor, have you ever heard the name of Duveen in connection with M. Renauld?” “Duveen. Duveen.” He tried the name over thoughtfully. “I don’t think I have. And yet it seems familiar.” “Do you know a lady, a friend of M. Renauld’s whose Christian name is Bella?” Again Mr. Stonor shook his head. “Bella Duveen? Is that the full name? It’s curious! I’m sure I know it. But for the moment I can’t remember in what connection.” The magistrate coughed. “You understand, M. Stonor—the case is like this. There must be no reservations. You might, perhaps, through a feeling of consideration for Madame Renauld—for whom, I gather, you have a great esteem and affection, you might—enfin!” said M. Hautet getting rather tied up in his sentence, “there must absolutely be no reservations.” Stonor stared at him, a dawning light of comprehension in his eyes. “I don’t quite get you,” he said gently. “Where does Mrs. Renauld come in? I’ve an immense respect and affection for that lady; she’s a very wonderful and unusual type, but I don’t quite see how my reservations, or otherwise, could affect her?” “Not if this Bella Duveen should prove to have been something more than a friend to her husband?” “Ah!” said Stonor. “I get you now. But I’ll bet my bottom dollar that you’re wrong. The old man never so much as looked at a petticoat. He just adored his own wife. They were the most devoted couple I know.” M. Hautet shook his head gently. “M. Stonor, we hold absolute proof—a love letter written by this Bella to M. Renauld, accusing him of having tired of her. Moreover, we have further proof that, at the time of his death, he was carrying on an intrigue with a Frenchwoman, a Madame Daubreuil, who rents the adjoining Villa. And this is the man who, according to you, never looked at a petticoat!” The secretary’s eyes narrowed. “Hold on, M. le juge. You’re barking up the wrong tree. I knew Paul Renauld. What you’ve just been saying is utterly impossible. There’s some other explanation.” The magistrate shrugged his shoulders. “What other explanation could there be?” “What leads you to think it was a love affair?” “Madame Daubreuil was in the habit of visiting him here in the evenings. Also, since M. Renauld came to the Villa Geneviève, Madame Daubreuil has paid large sums of money into the bank in notes. In all, the amount totals four thousand pounds of your English money.” “I guess that’s right,” said Stonor quietly. “I transmitted him those sums at his request. But it wasn’t an intrigue.” “Eh! mon Dieu! What else could it be?” “Blackmail,” said Stonor sharply, bringing down his hand with a slam on the table. “That’s what it was.” “Ah! Voilà une idée!” cried the magistrate, shaken in spite of himself. “Blackmail,” repeated Stonor. “The old man was being bled—and at a good rate too. Four thousand in a couple of months. Whew! I told you just now there was a mystery about Renauld. Evidently this Madame Daubreuil knew enough of it to put the screws on.” “It is possible,” the commissary cried excitedly. “Decidedly, it is possible.” “Possible?” roared Stonor. “It’s certain! Tell me, have you asked Mrs. Renauld about this love affair stunt of yours?” “No, monsieur. We did not wish to occasion her any distress if it could reasonably be avoided.” “Distress? Why, she’d laugh in your face. I tell you, she and Renauld were a couple in a hundred.” “Ah, that reminds me of another point,” said M. Hautet. “Did M. Renauld take you into his confidence at all as to the dispositions of his will?” “I know all about it—took it to the lawyer for him after he’d drawn it out. I can give you the name of his solicitors if you want to see it. They’ve got it there. Quite simple. Half in trust to his wife for her lifetime, the other half to his son. A few legacies. I rather think he left me a thousand.” “When was this will drawn up?” “Oh, about a year and a half ago.” “Would it surprise you very much, M. Stonor, to hear that M. Renauld had made another will, less than a fortnight ago?” Stonor was obviously very much surprised. “I’d no idea of it. What’s it like?” “The whole of his vast fortune is left unreservedly to his wife. There is no mention of his son.” Mr. Stonor gave vent to a prolonged whistle. “I call that rather rough on the lad. His mother adores him, of course, but to the world at large it looks rather like a want of confidence on his father’s part. It will be rather galling to his pride. Still, it all goes to prove what I told you, that Renauld and his wife were on first rate terms.” “Quite so, quite so,” said M. Hautet. “It is possible we shall have to revise our ideas on several points. We have, of course, cabled to Santiago, and are expecting a reply from there any minute. In all possibility, everything will then be perfectly clear and straightforward. On the other hand, if your suggestion of blackmail is true, Madame Daubreuil ought to be able to give us valuable information.” Poirot interjected a remark: “M. Stonor, the English chauffeur, Masters, had he been long with M. Renauld?” “Over a year?” “Have you any idea whether he has ever been in South America?” “I’m quite sure he hasn’t. Before coming to Mr. Renauld, he had been for many years with some people in Gloucestershire whom I know well.” “In fact, you can answer for him as being above suspicion?” “Absolutely.” Poirot seemed somewhat crest-fallen. Meanwhile the magistrate had summoned Marchaud. “My compliments to Madame Renauld, and I should be glad to speak to her for a few minutes. Beg her not to disturb herself. I will wait upon her upstairs.” Marchaud saluted and disappeared. We waited some minutes, and then, to our surprise, the door opened, and Mrs. Renauld, deathly pale in her heavy mourning, entered the room. M. Hautet brought forward a chair, uttering vigorous protestations, and she thanked him with a smile. Stonor was holding one hand of hers in his with an eloquent sympathy. Words evidently failed him. Mrs. Renauld turned to M. Hautet. “You wished to ask me something, M. le juge.” “With your permission, madame. I understand your husband was a French Canadian by birth. Can you tell me anything of his youth, or upbringing?” She shook her head. “My husband was always very reticent about himself, monsieur. He came from the North West, I know, but I fancy that he had an unhappy childhood, for he never cared to speak of that time. Our life was lived entirely in the present and the future.” “Was there any mystery in his past life?” Mrs. Renauld smiled a little, and shook her head. “Nothing so romantic, I am sure, M. le juge.” M. Hautet also smiled. “True, we must not permit ourselves to get melodramatic. There is one thing more—” he hesitated. Stonor broke in impetuously: “They’ve got an extraordinary idea into their heads Mrs. Renauld. They actually fancy that Mr. Renauld was carrying on an intrigue with a Madame Daubreuil who, it seems, lives next door.” The scarlet colour flamed into Mrs. Renauld’s cheeks. She flung her head up, then bit her lip, her face quivering. Stonor stood looking at her in astonishment, but M. Bex leaned forward and said gently: “We regret to cause you pain, madame, but have you any reason to believe that Madame Daubreuil was your husband’s mistress?” With a sob of anguish, Mrs. Renauld buried her face in her hands. Her shoulders heaved convulsively. At last she lifted her head, and said brokenly: “She may have been.” Never, in all my life, have I seen anything to equal the blank amazement on Stonor’s face. He was thoroughly taken aback. About HackerNoon Book Series: We bring you the most important technical, scientific, and insightful public domain books. This book is part of the public domain. Agatha Christie (2019). The Murder on the Links. Urbana, Illinois: Project Gutenberg. Retrieved https://www.gutenberg.org/cache/epub/58866/pg58866-images.html This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org , located at https://www.gutenberg.org/policy/license.html.

Gabriel Stonor

Just to let you know, this isn’t my IP but my notes from Dan Vas’ course, which you can find here. It’s about 11 hours worth of content summarised here. I hope you’ll find some things useful! Lesson 1 – Success is a Mindset Invest in books by successful people (my favorites are Richard Branson’s and by Michael Singer) Losing My Virginity Surrender Experiment We’re not good at many things, so identify your strengths and run with it To achieve the good life, you have to be in the top 5% of people in the industry Have a clear sense of your life purpose Questions to Reflect Have I deserved the good life? Am I creating value for the world? To find your signature strengths, consider this: What did I grow up around? What do strangers tell me I’m good at? What have you been doing for the last ten years? What can you talk about endlessly on Friday with your friends (without getting paid)? Lesson 2 – The Mindset of the Successful Wealthy people operate by an internal locus of responsibility – whatever happens in my life, I am solely responsible for it. If there’s anything you want, you just figure out a way to do it. No government, upbringing, or any other limitations can put you down – TO BE SUCCESSFUL, YOU HAVE TO TAKE FULL RESPONSIBILITY FOR YOURSELF. Don’t worry about what you’re meant to do – over-focusing creates stress and worry. Ask what you can do for someone, not what they can do for you. There’s more than enough to go around for everybody. You will have to shift your identity. Don’t worry if your old one wants to pull you back. It will. Notice and move on. Lesson 3 – The Enemy of Success – Drifting A drifter lacks a purpose in life, looks for others to give him something (government, boss, etc.), and chooses the easy short-term thing over the long-term. Easy choices – hard life. Hard choices – easy life. if you know what you want and you’re very clear about it and your intention, you desire and demand it. If you’re ready to pay the price for what you want and refuse any other substitute, you will transmute it into physical reality (this is from both of his books, and ). Secret by N.Hill: Think and Grow Rich Outwitting the Devil Anything that life gives you, smile and say, ‘I can handle this; I’m only a step away from success. Success is one step past failure. Lesson 4 – Creating Your Dream Life The cause of failure is not planning your future, not planning to be successful. If you set a target for your life, you WILL achieve it. Entrepreneurs are the people that get rewarded by life. I can have anything I want in life as long as I consciously plan it and it’s realistic. Always keep perspective relative to your goal. Although it might appear that $2 million US by the 29th birthday is a lot, it’s not. We sent the man to the Moon. Is a couple of million really that hard? EXERCISES Write down your life vision for the next two years. Then the next ten years. And the next ten. And the next. Plan your life. Then each time, go back ten years and see what you need to do as a 10-year younger self to become the person you achieved to be by that age. Write down the person you have to become to achieve that goal/the habits you need (e.g., you need to be a person who reads self-dev books) Now invert – think of a version of you that doesn’t achieve those goals – what do they do? Then you know NOT to do it. Lesson 5 – Walk Through Your Own Door We can only become successful by walking through our own doors, following our own paths, and playing on our unique strengths. Doing things that we’re good at and that make us happy and figuring out a way to turn it into entrepreneurship Cultivate gratitude towards a life/universe/higher being - whatever works for you. The world is an abundant place! Find your door – that’s where abundance is Questions to Reflect Ray Dalio says you must know your nature and get to know yourself well. What are your strengths, what environments do you thrive in, what you’re good at, and what do you really want out of life? What is my nature? What do I want out of life? What does success look like to me? What do I value? Say to yourself every day: I allow myself to experience the riches / I allow myself success / I allow myself the good life / I allow myself to have the wealth / Everything will work out. Lesson 6 – What You Chase Will Always Run Away Just worry about WHAT you want, not HOW you should get it. Pursue your goals but don’t attach happiness to them – as in, if it doesn’t work out, your life will still be great, and you’ll be happy regardless. . Just focus every day on how your life is getting better and better. Detachment Adopt a mindset that it is going to happen sooner or later; success is inevitable. All you need is one win. You literally only need to win once! To earn money, search for ways to be valuable to others – how can I help others? Just focus on that, and the money will come. Money comes anyway. Money is not the goal. The goal is what you want and your purpose. If I have it/get it, it’s awesome. If I don’t, it will come eventually. Money and goals are often achieved indirectly – focus on how you can add value to others, and money will come your way. Lesson 7 – The Law of Three Failures In life, always make sure to put all odds in your favor and do the best you can. Failure helps you to learn the lessons you need to achieve success. The two most important traits of an entrepreneur are courage and persistence. 50% of people quit after the 1st failure; 80% after the 2nd failure; 95% after 3rd failure. You need to learn to brush failure off as a fly on your shoulder. Convince yourself that success is already here. Success is where I’ll end up regardless. Failure is just life testing you to see if you’re worthy of success. The serenity prayer God grant me the serenity to accept things I cannot change. Courage to change things I can and the wisdom to know the difference Lesson 8 – Daily Discipline and Practice I want success; therefore, I commit to showing up for myself every day. In life, if you’re not consciously going up – it means you’re going down. Every wealthy person knows – time is more valuable and important than money. Daily routine Goals and visualization Start off with a 2-year vision. Create a nice vision, and make sure you will enjoy and like to live. Write down your goals as if you already have them. Describe each goal with emotion. e.g., I am so happy and grateful now that I run a multi-million US dollar online business that gives me wealth, location independence, fulfillment, and joy and really ‘paint’ the goal, e.g., I am so happy and grateful now that I have an athletic yet gracious physique with fit legs, round booty, beautiful arms Describe your goals in vivid detail. Attach your goals to positive emotions that you feel as if you already have them. In your goals, focus on money, business, relationship, friendships, health & fitness. Once you write down your goals – visualize them – really see yourself having them and feeling the feelings of you already having that goal. Emotions+vision=manifestation Also Write down the next day, a day before, so you don’t waste time and do important things first. Take care of your fitness and health regime Daily self-development and self-education Commit to reading daily and make notes on anything that stands out to you Lesson 9 – Which Business Do I Start? An entrepreneur is a person who remakes the world in their own image. If you don’t find a way to make money while you sleep, you’ll be broke forever – W.Buffet. You want to know your signature strengths and build upon it Consider What did I grow up around? What do strangers say about me? What can you talk about forever without getting paid? What I’ve been doing for the last 5-10 years? Best businesses to start online E-commerce A skills-based company like learn FB ads and offer marketing to others; DOWNSIDE is that you’re still dependent on a client Coaching Become an influencer/brand so you can direct your audience to other businesses. Build real business Make sure to offer value first Sell real products and services Create an automatic system Success = location independence+scalability+signature strength+commitment to your strength Lesson 10 – On the Shortness of Life By pursuing something, am I creating something of value? You should use it to your advantage to motivate you The only time we have is actually the present moment, and we can use the present moment to achieve the future that we want Consider your perceptions of time Invest in today for a better tomorrow – short pain long-term gain Every single day commit to putting the odds on your side Be impatiently patient-patient to keep going until you achieve success and impatient knowing that every day goes by quickly Time is much more valuable than money It’s not that we have a shot at life; it’s that we waste so much of it We live as if money, belongings, and property are scarce, but time is plentiful. But in reality, it is the opposite – time is scarce, and abundance is plentiful and can always be created.

10 Entrepreneurial Mindset Notes

The Missing Will by Agatha Christie, is part of the HackerNoon Books Series. You can jump to any chapter in this book here . The Missing Will The Missing Will Hercule Poirot Solves an Extraordinary Case by Agatha Christie The problem presented to us by Miss Violet Marsh made a rather pleasant change from our usual routine work. Poirot had received a brisk and businesslike note from the lady asking for an appointment, and he had replied, asking her to call upon him at eleven o’clock the following day. She arrived punctually—a tall, handsome young woman, plainly but neatly dressed, with an assured and businesslike manner—clearly, a young woman who meant to get on in the world. I am not a great admirer of the so-called New Woman myself, and in spite of her good looks, I was not particularly prepossessed in her favor. “My business is of a somewhat unusual nature, M. Poirot,” she began, after she had accepted a chair. “I had better begin at the beginning and tell you the whole story.” “If you please, mademoiselle.” “I am an orphan. My father was one of two brothers, sons of a small yeoman farmer in Devonshire. The farm was a poor one, and the eldest brother, Andrew, emigrated to Australia, where he did very well indeed, and by means of successful speculation in land became a very rich man. The younger brother, Roger, my father, had no leanings toward the agricultural life. He managed to educate himself a little, and obtained a post as a clerk in a small firm. He married slightly above him; my mother was the daughter of a poor artist. My father died when I was six years old. When I was fourteen, my mother followed him to the grave. My only living relation then was my Uncle Andrew, who had recently returned from Australia and bought a small place in his native county, Crabtree Manor. He was exceedingly kind to his brother’s orphan child, took me to live with him, and treated me in every way as though I were his own daughter. “Crabtree Manor,” she pursued, “in spite of its name, is really only an old farmhouse. Farming was in my uncle’s blood, and he was intensely interested in various modern farming experiments. Although kindness itself to me, he had certain peculiar and deeply rooted ideas as to the upbringing of women. Himself a man of little or no education, though possessing remarkable shrewdness, he placed little value on what he called ‘book knowledge.’ He was especially opposed to the education of women. In his opinion, girls should learn practical housework and dairy work, be useful about the home, and have as little to do with book-learning as possible. He proposed to bring me up on these lines, to my bitter disappointment. “I rebelled frankly. I knew that I possessed a good brain, and had absolutely no talent for domestic duties. My uncle and I had many bitter arguments on the subject, for though much attached to each other, we were both self-willed. I was lucky enough to win a scholarship, and up to a certain point was successful in getting my own way. The crisis arose when I resolved to go to Girton. I had a little money of my own, left me by my mother, and I was quite determined to make the best use of the gifts God had given me. I had one long final argument with my uncle. He put the facts plainly before me. He had no other relations, and he had intended me to be his sole heiress. As I have told you, he was a very rich man. If I persisted in these ‘newfangled notions’ of mine, however, I need look for nothing from him. I remained polite, but firm. I should always be deeply attached to him, but I must lead my own life. We parted on that note. ‘You fancy your brains, my girl,’ were his last words. ‘I’ve no book-learning, but for all that, I’ll pit mine against yours any day. We’ll see what we shall see.’ “That was nine years ago. I have stayed with him for a week-end occasionally, and our relations were perfectly amicable, though his views remained unaltered. He never referred to my having matriculated, nor to my B. Sc. For the last three years his health has been failing, and a month ago he died. I am now coming to the point of my visit. My uncle left a most extraordinary will. By its terms, Crabtree Manor and its contents are to be at my disposal for a year from his death—‘during which time my clever niece may prove her wits,’ the actual words run. At the end of that period, ‘my wits having proved better than hers,’ the house and all my uncle’s large fortune pass to various charitable institutions.” “That is a little hard on you, mademoiselle,” commented Poirot, “seeing that you were Mr. Marsh’s only blood relation.” “I do not look on it in that way. Uncle Andrew warned me fairly, and I chose my own path. Since I would not fall in with his wishes, he was at perfect liberty to leave his money to whom he pleased.” “Was the will drawn up by a lawyer?” “No; it was written on a printed will-form and witnessed by the man and his wife who lived in the house and looked after my uncle.” “There might be a possibility of upsetting such a will?” “I would not even attempt to do such a thing.” “You regard it, then, as a sporting challenge on the part of your uncle?” “That is exactly how I look upon it.” “It bears that interpretation, certainly,” said Poirot thoughtfully. “Somewhere in this rambling old manor house your uncle has concealed either a sum of money in notes, or possibly a second will, and has given you a year in which to exercise your ingenuity to find it.” “Exactly, M. Poirot, and I am paying you the compliment of assuming that your ingenuity will be greater than mine.” “Eh, eh! But that is very charming of you. My gray cells are at your disposal. You have made no search yourself?” “Only a cursory one, but I have too much respect for my uncle’s undoubted abilities to fancy that the task will be an easy one.” “Have you the will, or a copy of it with you?” Miss Marsh handed a document across the table. Poirot ran through it, nodding to himself. “Made three years ago. Dated March 25, and the time is given also—eleven a. m.—that is very suggestive. It narrows the field of search. Assuredly it is another will we have to seek for. A will made even half an hour later would upset this. Eh bien, mademoiselle, it is a problem charming and ingenious that you have presented to me here. I shall have all the pleasure in the world in solving it for you. Granted that your uncle was a man of ability, his gray cells cannot have been of the quality of Hercule Poirot’s!” (Really, Poirot’s vanity is blatant!) “Fortunately, I have nothing of moment on hand at the minute. Hastings and I will go down to Crabtree Manor tonight. The man and wife who attended on your uncle are still there, I presume?” “Yes, their name is Baker.” The following morning saw us started on the hunt proper. We had arrived late the night before. Mr. and Mrs. Baker, having received a telegram from Miss Marsh, were expecting us. They were a pleasant couple, the man gnarled and pink-cheeked like a shriveled pippin, and his wife a woman of vast proportions and true Devonshire calm. Tired with our journey, including an eight-mile drive from the station, we had retired at once to bed after a supper of roast chicken, apple pie and Devonshire cream. We had now disposed of an excellent breakfast, and were sitting in a small paneled room which had been the late Mr. Marsh’s study and living-room. A roll-top desk stuffed with papers, all neatly docketed, stood against the wall, and a big leather armchair showed plainly that it had been its owner’s constant resting-place. A big chintz-covered settee ran along the opposite wall, and the deep low window-seats were covered with the same faded chintz of an old-fashioned pattern. “Eh bien, mon ami,” said Poirot, lighting one of his tiny cigarettes, “we must map out our plan of campaign. Already I have made a rough survey of the house, but I am of opinion that any due will be found in this room. We shall have to go through the documents in the desk with meticulous care. Naturally I do not expect to find the will among them, but it is likely that some apparently innocent paper may conceal the clue to its hiding-place. But first we must have a little information. Ring the bell, I pray of you.” I did so. While we were waiting for it to be answered, Poirot walked up and down, looking about him approvingly. “A man of method, this Mr. Marsh. See how neatly the packets of papers are docketed; and the key to each drawer has its ivory label—so has the key of the china-cabinet on the wall. And see with what precision the china within is arranged! It rejoices the heart. Nothing here offends the eye—” He came to an abrupt pause, as his eye was caught by the key of the desk itself, to which a dirty envelope was affixed. Poirot frowned at it, and withdrew it from the lock. On it were scrawled the words “Key of Roll-top Desk” in a crabbed handwriting quite unlike the neat superscriptures on the other keys. “An alien note,” said Poirot, frowning. “I could swear that here we have no longer the personality of Mr. Marsh. But who else has been in the house? Only Miss Marsh; and she, if I mistake not, is also a young lady of method and order.” Baker came in answer to the bell. “Will you fetch Madame your wife and answer a few questions?” Baker departed, and in a few moments returned with Mrs. Baker, wiping her hands on her apron and beaming all over her face. In a few clear words, Poirot set forth the object of his mission. The Bakers were immediately sympathetic. “Us don’t want to see Miss Violet done out of what’s hers,” declared the woman. “Cruel hard, ’twould be, for hospitals to get it all.” Poirot proceeded with his questions. Yes, Mr. and Mrs. Baker remembered perfectly witnessing the will. Baker had previously been sent into the neighboring town to get two printed will-forms. “Two?” said Poirot sharply. “Yes sir, for safety like, I suppose, in case he should spoil one—and sure enough, so he did do. Us had signed one—” “What time of day was that?” Baker scratched his head, but his wife was quicker. “Why, to be sure, I’d just put the milk on for the cocoa at eleven. Don’t ee remember? It had all boiled over on the stove when us got back to kitchen.” “And afterward?” “’Twould be about an hour later. Us had to go in again. ‘I’ve made a mistake,’ says old Master, ‘—had to tear the whole thing up. I’ll trouble you to sign again.’ And us did. And afterward Master give us a tidy sum of money each. ‘I’ve left you nothing in my will,’ says he, ‘but each year I live, you’ll have this to be a nest-egg when I’m gone;’ and sure enough, so he did.” Poirot reflected. “After you had signed the second time, what did Mr. Marsh do? Do you know?” “Went out to the village to pay tradesmen’s books.” That did not seem very promising. Poirot tried another tack. He held out the key of the desk. “Is that your master’s writing?” I may have imagined it, but I fancied that a moment or two elapsed before Baker replied: “Yes sir, it is.” “He’s lying,” I thought. “But why?” “Has your master let the house? Have there been any strangers in it during the last three years?” “No sir.” “No visitors?” “Only Miss Violet.” “No strangers of any kind been inside this room?” “No sir.” “You forget the workmen, Jim,” his wife reminded him. “Workmen?” Poirot wheeled round on her. “What workmen?” The woman explained that about two years and a half ago workmen had been in the house to do certain repairs. She was quite vague as to what the repairs were. Her view seemed to be that the whole thing was a fad of her master’s, and quite unnecessary. Part of the time the workmen had been in the study, but what they had done there she could not say, as her master had not let either of them into the room while the work was in progress. Unfortunately they could not remember the name of the firm employed, beyond the fact that it was a Plymouth one. “We progress, Hastings,” said Poirot, rubbing his hands, as the Bakers left the room. “Clearly he made a second will, and then had workmen from Plymouth in to make a suitable hiding-place. Instead of wasting time, taking up the floor and tapping the walls, we will go to Plymouth.” With a little trouble we were able to get the information we wanted. And after one or two essays, we found the firm employed by Mr. Marsh. Their employees had all been with them many years, and it was easy to find the two men who had worked under Mr. Marsh’s orders. They remembered the job perfectly. Among various other minor jobs, they had taken up one of the bricks of the old-fashioned fireplace, made a cavity beneath, and so cut the brick that it was impossible to see the joint. By pressing on the second brick from the end, the whole thing was raised. It had been quite a complicated piece of work, and the old gentleman had been very fussy about it. Our informant was a man called Coghan, a big, gaunt man with a grizzled mustache. He seemed an intelligent fellow. We returned to Crabtree Manor in high spirits, and locking the study door, proceeded to put our newly acquired knowledge into effect. It was impossible to see any sign on the bricks, but when we pressed in the manner indicated, a deep cavity was at once disclosed. Eagerly Poirot plunged in his hand. Suddenly his face fell from complacent elation to consternation. All he held was a charred fragment of stiff paper. But for it, the cavity was empty. “Sacré,” cried Poirot angrily. “Some one has been here before us!” We examined the scrap of paper anxiously. Clearly it was a fragment of what we sought. A portion of Baker’s signature remained, but no indication of what the terms of the will had been. Poirot sat back on his heels. “I understand it not,” he growled. “Who destroyed this? And what was their object?” “The Bakers?” I suggested. “Pourquoi? Neither will makes any provision for them, and they are more likely to be kept on with Miss Marsh than if the place became the property of a hospital. How could it be to anyone’s advantage to destroy the will? The hospitals benefit, yes; but one cannot suspect institutions!” “Perhaps the old man changed his mind and destroyed it himself,” I suggested. Poirot rose to his feet, dusting his knees with his usual care. “That may be,” he admitted. “One of your more sensible observations, Hastings. Well, we can do no more here. We have done all that mortal man can do. We have successfully pitted our wits against the late Andrew Marsh, but unfortunately his niece is no better off for our success.” By driving to the station at once, we were just able to catch a train to London, though not the principal express. Poirot was sad and dissatisfied. For my part, I was tired and dozed in a corner. Suddenly, as we were just moving out of Taunton, Poirot uttered a piercing squeal. “Vite, Hastings! Awake and jump. But jump, I say!” Before I knew where I was, we were standing on the platform, bareheaded and minus our valises, while the train disappeared into the night. I was furious, but Poirot paid no attention. “Imbecile that I have been!” he cried. “Triple imbecile! Not again will I vaunt my little gray cells!” “That’s a good job, at any rate,” I said grumpily. “But what is this all about?” As usual, when following out his own ideas, he paid absolutely no attention to me. “The tradesmen’s books, I have left them entirely out of account! Yes, but where? Where? Never mind, I cannot be mistaken. We must return at once.” Easier said than done. We managed to get a slow train to Exeter, and there Poirot hired a car. We arrived back at Crabtree Manor in the small hours of the morning. I pass over the bewilderment of the Bakers when we had at last aroused them. Paying no attention to anybody, Poirot strode at once to the study. “I have been, not a triple imbecile, but thirty-six times one, my friend,” he deigned to remark. “Now, behold!” Going straight to the desk, he drew out the key, and detached the envelope from it. I stared at him stupidly. How could he possibly hope to find a big will-form in that tiny envelope? With great care he cut open the envelope, laying it out flat. Then he lighted the fire and held the plain inside surface of the envelope to the flame. In a few minutes faint characters began to appear. “Look!” cried Poirot in triumph. I looked. There were just a few lines of faint writing stating briefly that he left everything to his niece Violet Marsh. It was dated March 25, twelve-thirty p. m., and witnessed by Albert Pike, confectioner, and Jessie Pike, married woman. “But is it legal?” I gasped. “As far as I know, there is no law against writing your will in a blend of disappearing and sympathetic ink. The intention of the testator is clear, and the beneficiary is his only living relation. But the cleverness of him! He foresaw every step that a searcher would take, that I, miserable imbecile, took! He gets two will-forms, makes the servants sign twice, then sallies out with his will written on the inside of a dirty envelope, and a fountain pen containing his little ink-mixture. On some excuse he gets the confectioner and his wife to sign their names under his own signature; then he ties it to the key of his desk and chuckles to himself. If his niece sees through his little ruse, she will have justified her choice of life and elaborate education and be thoroughly welcome to his money.” “She didn’t see through it, did she?” I said slowly. “It seems rather unfair. The old man really won.” “But no, Hastings! It is your wits that go astray. Miss Marsh proved the astuteness of her wits and the value of the higher education for women by at once putting the matter in my hands. Always employ the expert! She has amply proved her right to the money.” I wonder—I very much wonder what old Andrew Marsh would have thought! About HackerNoon Book Series: We bring you the most important technical, scientific, and insightful public domain books. This book is part of the public domain. Agatha Christie (2021). The Missing Will. Urbana, Illinois: Project Gutenberg. Retrieved https://www.gutenberg.org/cache/epub/67173/pg67173-images.html This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org , located at https://www.gutenberg.org/policy/license.html .

The Missing Will

A PRISONER OF LOVE

Kilmeny of the Orchard by L. M. Montgomery, is part of the HackerNoon Books Series. You can jump to any chapter in this book here . THE STRAIGHT SIMPLICITY OF EVE CHAPTER IX. THE STRAIGHT SIMPLICITY OF EVE For the next three weeks Eric Marshall seemed to himself to be living two lives, as distinct from each other as if he possessed a double personality. In one, he taught the Lindsay district school diligently and painstakingly; solved problems; argued on theology with Robert Williamson; called at the homes of his pupils and took tea in state with their parents; went to a rustic dance or two and played havoc, all unwittingly, with the hearts of the Lindsay maidens. But this life was a dream of workaday. He only LIVED in the other, which was spent in an old orchard, grassy and overgrown, where the minutes seemed to lag for sheer love of the spot and the June winds made wild harping in the old spruces. Here every evening he met Kilmeny; in that old orchard they garnered hours of quiet happiness together; together they went wandering in the fair fields of old romance; together they read many books and talked of many things; and, when they were tired of all else, Kilmeny played to him and the old orchard echoed with her lovely, fantastic melodies. At every meeting her beauty came home afresh to him with the old thrill of glad surprise. In the intervals of absence it seemed to him that she could not possibly be as beautiful as he remembered her; and then when they met she seemed even more so. He learned to watch for the undisguised light of welcome that always leaped into her eyes at the sound of his footsteps. She was nearly always there before him and she always showed that she was glad to see him with the frank delight of a child watching for a dear comrade. She was never in the same mood twice. Now she was grave, now gay, now stately, now pensive. But she was always charming. Thrawn and twisted the old Gordon stock might be, but it had at least this one offshoot of perfect grace and symmetry. Her mind and heart, utterly unspoiled of the world, were as beautiful as her face. All the ugliness of existence had passed her by, shrined in her double solitude of upbringing and muteness. She was naturally quick and clever. Delightful little flashes of wit and humour sparkled out occasionally. She could be whimsical—even charmingly capricious. Sometimes innocent mischief glimmered out in the unfathomable deeps of her blue eyes. Sarcasm, even, was not unknown to her. Now and then she punctured some harmless bubble of a young man’s conceit or masculine superiority with a biting little line of daintily written script. She assimilated the ideas in the books they read, speedily, eagerly, and thoroughly, always seizing on the best and truest, and rejecting the false and spurious and weak with an unfailing intuition at which Eric marvelled. Hers was the spear of Ithuriel, trying out the dross of everything and leaving only the pure gold. In manner and outlook she was still a child. Yet now and again she was as old as Eve. An expression would leap into her laughing face, a subtle meaning reveal itself in her smile, that held all the lore of womanhood and all the wisdom of the ages. Her way of smiling enchanted him. The smile always began far down in her eyes and flowed outward to her face like a sparkling brook stealing out of shadow into sunshine. He knew everything about her life. She told him her simple history freely. She often mentioned her uncle and aunt and seemed to regard them with deep affection. She rarely spoke of her mother. Eric came somehow to understand, less from what she said than from what she did not say, that Kilmeny, though she had loved her mother, had always been rather afraid of her. There had not been between them the natural beautiful confidence of mother and child. Of Neil, she wrote frequently at first, and seemed very fond of him. Later she ceased to mention him. Perhaps—for she was marvellously quick to catch and interpret every fleeting change of expression in his voice and face—she discerned what Eric did not know himself—that his eyes clouded and grew moody at the mention of Neil’s name. Once she asked him naively, “Are there many people like you out in the world?” “Thousands of them,” said Eric, laughing. She looked gravely at him. Then she gave her head a quick decided little shake. “I do not think so,” she wrote. “I do not know much of the world, but I do not think there are many people like you in it.” One evening, when the far-away hills and fields were scarfed in gauzy purples, and the intervales were brimming with golden mists, Eric carried to the old orchard a little limp, worn volume that held a love story. It was the first thing of the kind he had ever read to her, for in the first novel he had lent her the love interest had been very slight and subordinate. This was a beautiful, passionate idyl exquisitely told. He read it to her, lying in the grass at her feet; she listened with her hands clasped over her knee and her eyes cast down. It was not a long story; and when he had finished it he shut the book and looked up at her questioningly. “Do you like it, Kilmeny?” he asked. Very slowly she took her slate and wrote, “Yes, I like it. But it hurt me, too. I did not know that a person could like anything that hurt her. I do not know why it hurt me. I felt as if I had lost something that I never had. That was a very silly feeling, was it not? But I did not understand the book very well, you see. It is about love and I do not know anything about love. Mother told me once that love is a curse, and that I must pray that it would never enter into my life. She said it very earnestly, and so I believed her. But your book teaches that it is a blessing. It says that it is the most splendid and wonderful thing in life. Which am I to believe?” “Love—real love—is never a curse, Kilmeny,” said Eric gravely. “There is a false love which IS a curse. Perhaps your mother believed it was that which had entered her life and ruined it; and so she made the mistake. There is nothing in the world—or in heaven either, as I believe—so truly beautiful and wonderful and blessed as love.” “Have you ever loved?” asked Kilmeny, with the directness of phrasing necessitated by her mode of communication which was sometimes a little terrible. She asked the question simply and without embarrassment. She knew of no reason why love might not be discussed with Eric as other matters—music and books and travel—might be. “No,” said Eric—honestly, as he thought, “but every one has an ideal of love whom he hopes to meet some day—‘the ideal woman of a young man’s dream.’ I suppose I have mine, in some sealed, secret chamber of my heart.” “I suppose your ideal woman would be beautiful, like the woman in your book?” “Oh, yes, I am sure I could never care for an ugly woman,” said Eric, laughing a little as he sat up. “Our ideals are always beautiful, whether they so translate themselves into realities or not. But the sun is going down. Time does certainly fly in this enchanted orchard. I believe you bewitch the moments away, Kilmeny. Your namesake of the poem was a somewhat uncanny maid, if I recollect aright, and thought as little of seven years in elfland as ordinary folk do of half an hour on upper earth. Some day I shall waken from a supposed hour’s lingering here and find myself an old man with white hair and ragged coat, as in that fairy tale we read the other night. Will you let me give you this book? I should never commit the sacrilege of reading it in any other place than this. It is an old book, Kilmeny. A new book, savouring of the shop and market-place, however beautiful it might be, would not do for you. This was one of my mother’s books. She read it and loved it. See—the faded rose leaves she placed in it one day are there still. I’ll write your name in it—that quaint, pretty name of yours which always sounds as if it had been specially invented for you—‘Kilmeny of the Orchard’—and the date of this perfect June day on which we read it together. Then when you look at it you will always remember me, and the white buds opening on that rosebush beside you, and the rush and murmur of the wind in the tops of those old spruces.” He held out the book to her, but, to his surprise, she shook her head, with a deeper flush on her face. “Won’t you take the book, Kilmeny? Why not?” She took her pencil and wrote slowly, unlike her usual quick movement. “Do not be offended with me. I shall not need anything to make me remember you because I can never forget you. But I would rather not take the book. I do not want to read it again. It is about love, and there is no use in my learning about love, even if it is all you say. Nobody will ever love me. I am too ugly.” “You! Ugly!” exclaimed Eric. He was on the point of going off into a peal of laughter at the idea when a glimpse of her half averted face sobered him. On it was a hurt, bitter look, such as he remembered seeing once before, when he had asked her if she would not like to see the world for herself. “Kilmeny,” he said in astonishment, “you don’t really think yourself ugly, do you?” She nodded, without looking at him, and then wrote, “Oh, yes, I know that I am. I have known it for a long time. Mother told me that I was very ugly and that nobody would ever like to look at me. I am sorry. It hurts me much worse to know I am ugly than it does to know I cannot speak. I suppose you will think that is very foolish of me, but it is true. That was why I did not come back to the orchard for such a long time, even after I had got over my fright. I hated to think that YOU would think me ugly. And that is why I do not want to go out into the world and meet people. They would look at me as the egg peddler did one day when I went out with Aunt Janet to his wagon the spring after mother died. He stared at me so. I knew it was because he thought me so ugly, and I have always hidden when he came ever since.” Eric’s lips twitched. In spite of his pity for the real suffering displayed in her eyes, he could not help feeling amused over the absurd idea of this beautiful girl believing herself in all seriousness to be ugly. “But, Kilmeny, do you think yourself ugly when you look in a mirror?” he asked smiling. “I have never looked in a mirror,” she wrote. “I never knew there was such a thing until after mother died, and I read about it in a book. Then I asked Aunt Janet and she said mother had broken all the looking glasses in the house when I was a baby. But I have seen my face reflected in the spoons, and in a little silver sugar bowl Aunt Janet has. And it IS ugly—very ugly.” Eric’s face went down into the grass. For his life he could not help laughing; and for his life he would not let Kilmeny see him laughing. A certain little whimsical wish took possession of him and he did not hasten to tell her the truth, as had been his first impulse. Instead, when he dared to look up he said slowly, “I don’t think you are ugly, Kilmeny.” “Oh, but I am sure you must,” she wrote protestingly. “Even Neil does. He tells me I am kind and nice, but one day I asked him if he thought me very ugly, and he looked away and would not speak, so I knew what he thought about it, too. Do not let us speak of this again. It makes me feel sorry and spoils everything. I forget it at other times. Let me play you some good-bye music, and do not feel vexed because I would not take your book. It would only make me unhappy to read it.” “I am not vexed,” said Eric, “and I think you will take it some day yet—after I have shown you something I want you to see. Never mind about your looks, Kilmeny. Beauty isn’t everything.” “Oh, it is a great deal,” she wrote naively. “But you do like me, even though I am so ugly, don’t you? You like me because of my beautiful music, don’t you?” “I like you very much, Kilmeny,” answered Eric, laughing a little; but there was in his voice a tender note of which he was unconscious. Kilmeny was aware of it, however, and she picked up her violin with a pleased smile. He left her playing there, and all the way through the dim resinous spruce wood her music followed him like an invisible guardian spirit. “Kilmeny the Beautiful!” he murmured, “and yet, good heavens, the child thinks she is ugly—she with a face more lovely than ever an artist dreamed of! A girl of eighteen who has never looked in a mirror! I wonder if there is another such in any civilized country in the world. What could have possessed her mother to tell her such a falsehood? I wonder if Margaret Gordon could have been quite sane. It is strange that Neil has never told her the truth. Perhaps he doesn’t want her to find out.” Eric had met Neil Gordon a few evenings before this, at a country dance where Neil had played the violin for the dancers. Influenced by curiosity he had sought the lad’s acquaintance. Neil was friendly and talkative at first; but at the first hint concerning the Gordons which Eric threw out skilfully his face and manner changed. He looked secretive and suspicious, almost sinister. A sullen look crept into his big black eyes and he drew his bow across the violin strings with a discordant screech, as if to terminate the conversation. Plainly nothing was to be found out from him about Kilmeny and her grim guardians. About HackerNoon Book Series: We bring you the most important technical, scientific, and insightful public domain books. This book is part of the public domain. L. M. Montgomery (2004). Kilmeny of the Orchard. Urbana, Illinois: Project Gutenberg. Retrieved https://www.gutenberg.org/cache/epub/5341/pg5341-images.html This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org , located at https://www.gutenberg.org/policy/license.html.

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