The boredom was broken by a frantic knock at her door. It was Mrs. Bloxby, the vicar's wife and Agatha’s only true friend, looking uncharacteristically flustered.
Agatha’s PR-trained brain started whirring. "And 10:15 was when the exhibition opened. He was fine at 10:10 when Mrs. Boggle saw him." Agatha Raisin
"I'm afraid so," Mrs. Bloxby sighed. "It's poor Mr. Henderson, the retired horologist. He’s slumped over his display of grandfather clocks." The boredom was broken by a frantic knock at her door
"Another success for Raisin Investigations," Agatha declared, finishing her gin later that evening. "Though I still think I should have won that quiche competition last year". " Agatha declared