“I'm going home to bed,' he declared. 'We must wait till we get the photographs of the paper. Life is dust and ashes. I can't prove my theories and Bunter has deserted me again. He disappeared from Wilvercombe on the same day as William Bright, leaving me a message to say that one of my favourite socks had been lost in the wash and that he had lodged a complaint with the management. Miss Vane, Harriet, if I may so call you, will you marry me and look after my socks, and incidentally be the only woman novelist who ever accepted a proposal of marriage in the presence of a superintendent and inspector of police?'
'Not even for the sake of the headlines."
'I thought not. Even publicity isn't what it was.”