Explore "Unnatural Death" by Dorothy L Sayers on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
"By the pricking of my thumbs / Something evil this way comes. " / Macbeth
The April night was clear and chilly, and a brisk wood fire burned in a welcoming manner on the hearth. The bookcases which lined the walls were filled with rich old calf bindings, mellow and glowing in the lamplight. There was a grand piano, open, a huge chesterfield piled deep with cushions and two armchairs of the build that invites one to wallow. The port was brought in by an impressive manservant and placed on a very beautiful little Chippendale table. Some big bowls of scarlet and yellow parrot tulips beckoned, banner-like, from dark corners.