Ariadne Oliver comes to grip with the thorny issue of her writing. Monsieur Poirot is eager to help, only on certain peculiar conditions.

A somewhat troubled Ariadne Oliver plunges into the deep waters of her life. And I can assure you that her chief concern is not this sweet, whodunits-inducing, favorite fruit of hers.

Post Death in Heaven. Clara shouldn't indulge in philosophical speculations about lurid topics like death, high heels, nicknames, or the Doctor. Especially the Doctor. Likewise, the Doctor seems a bit too keen on musing on long, deserted shores: a ridiculously romantic alloy that could only bring him to even more preposterous decisions.

(The Portrait of a Lady) Isabel Archer is on the verge of making a big mistake. Out of arrogance, she dismisses any misgivings she, or her cousin, could have nurtured. Now, beyond any grasp, she rushes into an untimely night.

Missy haunts Clara's dreams: an abnormality that needs correction, an outlet of Clara's frustration? Or simply the need to fill up the void created by the Doctor ?

Is all that we see or seem but a dream within a dream? Has Wonderland even existed, or is it not a creation of the frustrated and whimsical mind of weariness and spleen?