“Look here, Mrs. Bradley," he said. "I feel a pretty frightful bounder telling you all this about the poor girl, but I think some woman ought to know about it. On Wednesday night, yes, last night, Eleanor came into my… — Gladys Mitchell Copy Share Image
“When he had disconnected the pump and tested the tyre with thumb and forefinger, he stood the bicycle upright against the side of the… — Gladys Mitchell Copy Share Image
Such an error, one finds, to do things for the best. They usually seem to be such unpleasant things. — Gladys Mitchell Copy Share Image
“She wants to see the children before she dies,” pronounced his wife. “Poor thing. I expect she’s very lonely and unhappy right out there in the country. Write back quickly, dear, and tell her how very welcome she is.” “I’d better tip the boys the wink to be civil to her,” said Godfrey, pursuing a different train of thought. “Her… — Gladys Mitchell Copy Share
I am a congenital liar. Some Highlanders are. To my ancestors, the truth was so sacred as to be unusable. — Gladys Mitchell Copy Share Image
“Richard, having modestly but effectually scored the minimum number for the purpose, was in process of deciding whether a green or a canary-coloured Fluffy… — Gladys Mitchell Copy Share Image
“replaced the cigarette, took a plate of kidneys and bacon from the maid, and accepted a piece of bread from a plate proffered by… — Gladys Mitchell Copy Share Image
“What about Kost, sir? He’s a foreigner, you know.” “Yes,” said the inspector, allowing to pass unchallenged the usual English implication that foreigners are… — Gladys Mitchell Copy Share Image
“Look here, Mrs. Bradley," he said. "I feel a pretty frightful bounder telling you all this about the poor girl, but I think some… — Gladys Mitchell Copy Share Image
In a sense, all murderers are lunatics. Killing is a not a sane reaction to the circumstances of life. — Gladys Mitchell Copy Share Image
“I am bubbled, I’m bubbled, O how I am troubled! Bamboozled and bit, my distresses are doubled!” John Gay” — Gladys Mitchell Copy Share Image
“Well,” continued Hilary, “it felt like somebody’s face! You know when you play water polo, and you push a chap’s face with your foot—”… — Gladys Mitchell Copy Share Image
