Agatha Christie's Marple2004

Miss Marple:
Heather Badcock?

Dolly Bantry:
Dead as a doornail.

Miss Marple:
Oh dear.

Dolly Bantry:
And at the garden party.

Miss Marple:
Dear me.

Dolly Bantry:
Full of beans one minute, pegged out the next.

Miss Marple:
What did she die of?

Dolly Bantry:
No one knows. She was fit as a fiddle, apparently. Mind you, she always did have that sort of ripe look, like a piece of fruit that's about to go off.