Random in Death (In Death, #58)

by J.D. Robb

“Why are they courtyards? Do people judge them? Hold court in them? They call them dooryards in Ireland, and I don’t get that, either, but at least there’s a kind of yard outside the door.” She rang the bell. Caught up, Peabody asked, “Why are they yards? It’s not like everybody’s is a multiple of three feet.” Eve poked her shoulder. “Right. Why are they yards?” She filed it away for later contemplation

She wondered if he dressed with such stylish formality for himself, for his position, or out of respect for the dead. And decided all three.