Ten people gathered at Soldier Island. In the midst of the party, a
I didn’t kill that child. It was someone else. A man. Peter’s uncle. I was in love with him. Peter was born after his father’s death.
[... … …]
I plunged into the sea and swam after Peter. He’d gone before I could get to him.
For full extended monologue, please refer to the script edition cited here: Agatha Christie, And Then There Were None, Samuel French, 1944, pp. 94.
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