I meant to write an update last night but was way too tired to type.
This Wimsey/Vane story is delightful so far, especially after the let-down that was The Five Red Herrings.
It funny and charming, and still involves a potential murder.
Harriet and Peter crack me up, not only because Peter seems to throw in proposals of marriage in almost every interaction they have. This might be creepy if it wasn't Peter, but luckily this is Peter:
In spite of the horrors she had witnessed, which ought to have driven all sleep away from the eyelids of any self-respecting female, Harriet slept profoundly in her first-floor bedroom (with bathroom, balcony and view over Esplanade) and came down to breakfast with a hearty appetite.
She secured a copy of the Morning Star, and was deep in the perusal of her own interview (with photograph) on the front page, when a familiar voice addressed her:
‘Good morning, Sherlock. Where is the dressing-gown? How many pipes of shag have you consumed? The hypodermic is on the dressing-room table.’
‘How in the world,’ demanded Harriet, ‘did you get here?’
‘Car,’ said Lord Peter, briefly. ‘Have they produced the body?’
‘Who told you about the body?’
‘I nosed it from afar. Where the carcase is, there shall be eagles gathered together. May I join you over the bacon-and-eggs?’
‘By all means,’ said Harriet. ‘Where did you come from?’
‘From London – like a bird that hears the call of its mate.’
‘I didn’t—’ began Harriet.
‘I didn’t mean you. I meant the corpse. But still, talking of mates, will you marry me?’ ‘
‘I thought not, but I felt I might as well ask the question. Did you say they had found the body?’
Telegram from Lord Peter Wimsey to Miss Harriet Vane: following razor clue to stamford refuse resemble thriller hero who hangs round heroine to neglect of duty but will you marry me – peter.
Telegram from Miss Harriet Vane to Lord Peter Wimsey: good hunting certainly not some developments here – vane.