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Search tags: kyd-cause-of-death
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text 2018-09-22 15:25
Reading progress update: I've read 169 out of 299 pages.
Unnatural Death - Dorothy L. Sayers

"You are too easily surprised," said Mr Towkington. "Many words have no legal meaning. Others have a legal meaning very unlike their ordinary meaning. For example, the word "daffy-down-dilly". It is a criminal libel to call a lawyer a daffy-down-dilly. Ha! Yes, I advice you never to do such a thing. No, I certainly advise you never to do it. [...]"

 

Anyone else tempted to try this word on a British lawyer? Well, I looked the meaning of it up and it might be best to leave it be.

 

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text 2018-09-22 13:49
Reading progress update: I've read 129 out of 299 pages.
Unnatural Death - Dorothy L. Sayers

He unfolded the letter, which was written in Miss Climpson´s old-fashioned flowing hand, and ornamented with such a variety of underlinings and exclamation marks as to look like an exercise in musical notation.

"Oh, lord!" said Parker.

"Yes, it´s worse than usual, isn´t it? - it must be of desperate importance. Luckily it´s comparatively short."

 

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text 2018-09-22 11:03
Reading progress update: I've read 85 out of 299 pages.
Unnatural Death - Dorothy L. Sayers

Miss Climpson´s letters to Lord Peter are a hoot:

 

This Miss Clara was evidently rather a "character", as my dear father used to call it. In her day she was considered very "advanced" and not quite nice (!) because she refused several good offers, cut her hair SHORT (!!) and set up in business for herself as a HORSE-BREEDER!!! Of course, nowadays, nobody would would think anything of it, but then the old lady - or young lady as she was when she embarked on this revolutionary proceeding - was quite a PIONEER.

 

I totally adore her writing-style.

 

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text 2018-09-22 07:33
Reading progress update: I've read 66 out of 299 pages.
Unnatural Death - Dorothy L. Sayers

"Oh, gods of the wine-flask and the board, how long? how long? - it is a ham sandwich. Goth, but not an ordinary one. Never did it see Lyons´s kitchen, or the counter of the multiple store or the delicatessen shop in the back street. The pig that was sacrificed to make this dainty tit bit fattened in no dull style, never knew the daily ration of pig wash or the not unmixed rapture of the domestic garbage-pail. Observe the hard texture, the deep brownish tint of the lean; the rich fat, yellow as a Chinaman´s cheek; the dark spot where the black treacle cure has soaked in, to make a dish fit to lure Zeus from Olympus. And tell me, man of no discrimination and worthy to be fed on boiled cod all year round, tell me how it comes that your little waitress and her railway clerk came down to Epping Forest to regale themselves on sandwiches made from coalblack, treacle-cured Bradenham ham, which long ago ran as a young wild boar about the woodlands, till death translated it to an incorruptible and more glorious body? I may add that it costs about 3s. a pound uncooked - an argument which you will allow to be weighty."

 

Leave it to Sir Peter to have a drama queen moment about a ham sandwich. Poor Parker. I like to think that he is rolling with his eyes precisely at this moment.

 

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text 2018-09-21 19:06
Reading progress update: I've read 31 out of 299 pages.
Unnatural Death - Dorothy L. Sayers

"Miss Climpson," said Lord Peter, "is a manifestation of the wasteful way in which this country is run. Look at electricity. Look at water-power. Look at the tides. Look at the sun. Millions of power units being given off into space every minute. Thousands of old maids, simply bursting with useful energy, forced by our stupid social system into hydros and hotels and communities and hostels and posts as companions, where their magnificient gossip-powers and units of inquisitiveness are allowed to dissipate themselves or even become harmful to the community, while ratepayers´ money is spent on getting work for which these women are providentially fitted, inefficiently carried out by ill-equipped policemen like you. My god! it´s enough to make a man write nasty little patronising books called Elderly Women, and On the Edge of Explosion - and the drunkards make songs about `em, poor things."

 

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