THE EVIDENCE OF THE THIRD BARBER
"Not for him
Blooms my dark Nightshade, nor doth Hemlock brew
Murder for cups within her cavernous root.
Not him is the metal blessed to kill,
Nor lets the poppy her leaves fall for him.
To heroes such are sacred. He may live,
As long as 'tis the Gout and Dropsy's pleasure.
He wished to play at suicide."
Death's Jest-Book
Tuesday, 23 June
On the doorstep of the Hotel Bellevue, Wimsey encountered Bunter.
"The person that was asking for your lordship is in your lordship's sitting-room," said Bunter. "I had the opportunity of observing him when he was inquiring for your lordship at the reception-counter, but I did not introduce myself to his notice."
"You didn't, eh?"
"No, my lord. I contented myself with privately informing Mr. Hardy of his pres
