I remember a film, I forget what it was called, in which four people were interrogated about the character and life-style of a woman who had been murdered. All of them had known her well, but to each of them, she presented a different side. The man who loved her saw her as amusing, intelligent and extravagant. The girl who had been at school with her said she was reserved, slow to make friends and inclined to be mean. Her boss, for whom she worked as a secretary, found her hardworking but dull, the last person to inspire passion, let alone murder. Her landlady said she was easy to get on with, untidy and careless about money. “I always had to remind her of the rent,” she said, “but I like her she was always cheerful and willing to lend a hand if anyone was in trouble”. The interest of the film was not so much in who committed the murder, but in how it showed the way in which we all show different sides of ourselves to different people.
