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"Everybody Always Tells," by E. R.
Punshon.
No doubt they do--but they take a
weary time over it in this murder case,
which cannot be ranked among the
best from the pen of a usually stimu
lating crime writer. I regret to say
that Scotland Yard star turn Bobby
Owen, for the first time in our acquain
tance, is a bore, and a smug one to
boot. Events move slowly, there is
comparatively little mental exercise
for the reader.
Oollancz. London. 10/6. Our copy from
the publishers. -..
"Murder At Our House," by Carroll
John Daly.
There is little of note in this tale of
murder stalking in an American man
sion--except, maybe, that it is nar
rated, in a tone of great deference to
all concerned, by the butler. No-the'
butler didn't do it. But the identit'
of the killer is not far to seek.
Museum Press, London, 10/6. Our copy
from the publishers.
$