One of my least favourite Marsh's. Another where I cannot like it because of who the murderer is.Although there are many occasions where Marsh makes clear her detective and favourite painter are not racist, classist, sexist or any other -ist, the stories themselves repeatedly provide us with common people who are 'low', no matter their upbringing. The heaping of every fault on Cressida, with only the virtue of looks to make her 'bearable', just constantly annoyed me throughout the book.