Unnatural Death by Dorothy L Sayers

"Our wills are ours to make them thine. " Tennyson: In Memoriam

"Hullo! hullo -- ullo! oh, operator, shall I call thee bird or but a wandering voice? . Not at all, I had no intention of being rude, my child, that was a quotation from the poetry of Mr. Wordsworth. well, ring him again. thank you, is that Dr. Carr? . Lord Peter Wimsey speaking. oh, yes. yes. aha! . not a bit of it. We are about to vindicate you and lead you home, decorated with triumphal wreaths of cinnamon and senna-pods. No, really. we've come to the conclusion that the thing is serious. Yes. I want Nurse Forbes' address. Right, I'll hold on. Luton? . oh, Tooting, yes, I've got that. Certainly, I've no doubt she's a tartar, but I'm the Grand Panjandrum with the little round button atop. Thanks awfully. cheer-frightfully-ho! -- oh! I say! -- hullo! -- I say, she doesn't do Maternity work, does she? Maternity work? -- M for Mother-in-law -- Maternity? -- No -- You're sure? . It would be simply awful if she did and came along. I couldn't possibly produce a baby for her. As long as you're quite sure. Right -- right -- yes -- not for the world -- nothing to do with you at all. Goodbye, old thing, goodbye."