Hmm

I am reading Jill Paton Walsh's The Late Scholar, fourth in her Dorothy Sayers sequels. I have not been wild about this series and sometimes I wonder if I'm being entirely fair, especially as I've enjoyed unrelated works of hers. And I am enjoying bits of this; but I hit the line "'What has our quirky son been up to this time?' Harriet asked'" and all my mental gears made a horrible graunching sound. Really?