I’d never heard of Sayers before I wasn’t much of a crime aficionado (I’m still not), and my acquaintance with Golden Age detective fiction to that point had been limited to the 1980s TV series of Miss Marple, which my grandma used to let me stay up to watch. “You’ll like this,” he said, pulling it off a bookshelf as we were leaving after a weekend’s visit. But it has not yet gone on strike altogether.I first came across Dorothy L Sayers’ Gaudy Night about a decade ago, when my ex-boyfriend’s father pressed a copy on me. It does those things which it ought not to do and leaves undone the things it ought to have done. “It would be better to forget all about it-I hoped you had.” “And, of course, on the Feast of All Fools.”
“Peter, it’s foolish to go on like this.” You need not pay the smallest attention to it.” But consider it, if you will, as a pure formality. I shall, with your permission, continue to propose to you, at decently regulated intervals-as a birthday treat, and on Guy Fawkes Day and on the Anniversary of the King’s Accession. “If that’s the only reason, I am the best judge of that.” Then, with a return of his habitual self-mockery: “Old habits die hard.
“I don’t think that would be at all fair to you.” But if you could put up with me occasionally, as you have done tonight, I should be very grateful to you.” I’m sorry, but I can’t say anything else.” “I take it, Harriet, that you have no new answer to give me?” Everything that was alive in him lay in the palm of her hand, like a ripe apple.” Harriet, at the opposite side of the table, slipped into a place beside the Dean. “Well, and how are you?” “Not too bad, considering.” “That’s good.” He smiled and went to sit by the Warden. He paid his respects politely to the Warden and the Senior dons before coming over and taking her hand. He had driven straight from Town without changing his suit, and above the dark cloth his head had the bleached look of a faint water-colour. All morning she had expected to see him but he arrived only at the last moment so that their meeting took place in the Common Room, under the eyes of all the dons.
And she had had, from Miss Hillyard, a strangely vivid little picture of Peter, standing at her bedside between night and dawn, quite silent, and twisting the thick strap over and over in his hands. I have taken your collar away to have my name put on. Harriet had received from him a brief and characteristic note, which said: Congratulations on not being dead yet. meeting in order to lay certain information before the staff. “It was understood that Lord Peter Wimsey would attend the S.C.R.
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