Home > Work > Picture Miss Seeton (A Miss Seeton Mystery Book 1)
1 " I mean it, it’s another gap in your education. Until you can learn to understand her, you’ll get nowhere as a detective. She’s everybody’s conscience, Bob—the universal maiden aunt, cousin or sister. Humanity’s backbone. Throughout history, she’s gone to the stake for you again and again; not with any sense of heroism, but as a matter of principle and because it would never occur to her to do anything else. "
― , Picture Miss Seeton (A Miss Seeton Mystery Book 1)
2 " When somebody’s too smooth like he is, then somebody else is going to get the rough of it I always say. "
3 " chapter "
4 " Quite. Well., I haven't met the lady myself, but before she came we just had nice quiet larcenies, dopings, muggings, and the like. But since her arrival, it's been shootings, abductions, and now murders--the lot. I suppose you wouldn't like to take her back to London with you and give us all a rest? "
5 " I’m sorry if I seemed a little abrupt when you first arrived, but my housekeeper is out shopping and I was working”—she gestured towards the typewriter and the litter of papers on the desk—“and one gets immersed. It’s so difficult to switch one’s concentration. Particularly,” she smiled apologetically, and put her hand to her head, “when one has an extremely bad headache.” “I’m so sorry. How dreadful for you,” sympathised Miss Seeton. “Shouldn’t you lie down? But what a curious coincidence.” She opened her bag and began to hunt in it. “I was given something for a headache only this morning. It’s in here somewhere. I’m most unlikely to use them as I don’t care for taking drugs myself.” “Why not? Who’s not caring about taking drugs?” Both women turned at the interruption. Mrs. Venning went quickly to the door. “Angela, what are you doing down here? Go back to your room.” “Oh, don’t be so fud. What gives? What’s that "
6 " Not to say surprise no. Too smooth by half I’ve always thought him. "
7 " about these matters. One read that people abroad did frequently get emotional and kill each other. Probably the heat. Miss Seeton stepped aside to avoid a pile of crates. She peered at them. Seville oranges. How interesting. Spain. Such "
8 " something . . .” So colorful. Not romantic—no, one couldn’t call it that; if anything perhaps a trifle sordid. Carmen, herself, for instance, no better than she should be. In fact, if one were frank, worse. And the other girl, the young one; it was difficult to feel sorry for her. Her "