Stopfkuchen (1891), Wilhelm Raabe. I’m really starting to wish I could find other people who’ve read this so I could continue with the jokey description.
“But wasn’t her father a murd—-”
Tubby: “SORRY CAN’T HEAR YOU OVER THIS IDYLLIC FARM”
Valentina: (putting down cookbook) “Look, If you don’t stop pestering us, I WILL let my husband tell you about his fossil collection until you beg for mercy.”
“Um, btw darling, I’ve been meaning to tell you… I know who
actually killed that guy your father is supposed to have murdered.”
“WAIT WHAT WHO?!”
“It’s complicated. Mind if I explain in a really meandering roundabout
way? That’s kind of how I do things.”
Mooncustafer 