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I'm reading yet another mystery penned by Georgette Heyer -- Why Shoot A Butler? These are delightful froths filled with witty dialogue that just tickles me. Does anyone write anymore like this:
"Surely you remember old Mr. Fountain? Though why you should I can't imagine, for he went nowhere. He's dead.
Is that why he went nowhere? inquired Frank.
Not at all, dear. How should I know his movements now? How long has Jasper Fountain been dead?"
I find repartee like this howlingly funny! It's like setting a murder mystery at Totleigh Towers while Bertie Wooster was visiting.
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