«Isn't she?» said Lord Peter.
A dim blue light carried by somebody ahead wavered and stood still.
«Here you are,» said a voice.
Two Dantesque shapes with pitchforks loomed up.
«Have you finished?» asked somebody.
«Nearly done, sir.» The demons fell to work again with the pitchforks — no, spades.
Somebody sneezed. Parker located the sneezer and introduced him.
«Mr. Levett represents the Home Secretary. Lord Peter Wimsey. We are sorry to drag you out on such a day, Mr. Levett.»
«It's all in the day's work,» said Mr. Levett, hoarsely. He was muffled to the eyes.
The sound of the spades for many minutes. An iron noise of tools thrown down. Demons stooping and straining.