"Are you not a consumer of the Press at breakfast?" asked Bee, who had breakfasted at eight o'clock.
"I never lived where we had papers to read at breakfast. We just switched on the radio."
"Oh, lord, yes. I forget that your generation doesn't have to read."
"How have we been saved?"
"We have been rescued by three people we never heard of, and are never likely to meet. The fourth wife of a Manchester dentist, the husband of a principal boy, and the owner of a black leather trunk." She pressed the horn and turned slowly to the right out of the avenue. "The owner of the trunk left it at Charing Cross with someone's arms and legs in it. Or, of course, it may be the owner's arms and legs. That is a question which will occupy the Clarion for some time to come, I expect. The husband of the principal boy is suing for alienation of affection, and none of the three people concerned has ever been bothered with an inhibition, which is very nice for the Clarion. Since the reports of divorce cases have been pruned the Clarion has been suffering from frustration, and a suit for alienation of affection is a gift from heaven. Especially when it is Tattie Thacker's affections." She looked with pleasure at the morning. "I do like a morning after rain."
"You've still one to come?"
"What?"
"The fourth wife of the Manchester dentist."
"Oh. Yes. She, poor wretch, has just been exhumed from a very expensive and elaborate tomb and found to be loaded with arsenic. Her husband is found to be missing."
"And you think that the Clarion will be too busy to bother about-us?"