The Unpleasantness at the Bellona Club

By Dorothy L Sayers

The Unpleasantness at the Bellona ClubOld Mossy-Face

What in the world, Wimsey, are you doing in this Morgue?” demanded Captain Fentiman, flinging aside the “Evening Banner” with the air of a man released from an irksome duty.

“Oh, I wouldn’t call it that,” retorted Wimsey, amiably. “Funeral Parlour at the very least. Look at the marble. Look at the furnishings. Look at the palms and the chaste bronze nude in the corner.”

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