Reading progress update: I've read 64%.
‘You had already been through everything,’ said Wilde. ‘Why must you torture us like this? My wife has nothing—nothing to conceal. How could she have killed [xxx]
(show spoiler), and in that way? She has a horror of knives, an inhibition against them. Everyone knows that she can’t touch a knife or a blade of any sort. Why, even on the night of this crime—Bathgate, you remember!—she got into a fever at the very sight of that filthy dagger. It’s impossible, I tell you, it’s impossible!’
Well, that is a terrible affliction. I mean, how does she butter her toast?
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