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Alas, he knew nothing now—but at least now he was aware of it.
I . . . I don’t know what happened. I assure you that the vast, vast majority of the time my appetite is as stiff as a flagpole and just as sizable. I am as shocked as you are by this inexplicable inability to perform.” Different gradients of incredulity flickered across his face, as he no doubt tried to decide whether she truly was comparing her lack of appetite to an instance of impotence. “Did you have a particularly plentiful tea at home?”
“Well,” said Fowler, “I always enjoy a case more once witnesses start quoting Shakespeare, don’t you?”
Perhaps she had always been a monster, but even the lady monsters of the world couldn’t escape the expectations that came of being women.
