One Foot in the Grave [antikvár]

Her kiss burnt on his forehead. Keyed senses, distracted by the powdery odor of shampoo, didn't at once register that the fire was frozen."Ice cream for supper?" he murmured.Her green eyes blinked and widened. She made a face of mock alarm."Once a detective, always a detective?" she said.He replied with a deliberately sleepy mumble, and watched through half-closed eyes as she finished her routine in the room. Everything she did was sufiused with surplus life, as though her body was humming with pleasure in its own existence; but these energies didn't spark out of her at random; despite her roundness of feature and general chubbiness, she was no sprawling and chaotic earth mother, but taut and neat and coiled into herself like the bud of a many-petaled floweran