I think the problem was I was still feeling my way to "my" kind of mystery novel, which turned out not to be à la Sayers. I still admire her books and the way they weave the mystery so seamlessly into daily life. A friend of mine liked to complain that the usual modern female sleuth never had her time taken up with mundane things like picking up the drycleaning. I had Marian Larch pick up the drycleaning once and even had her run the vacuum cleaner, but I know what my friend meant. Even when a mystery gives those added details about the detective's life (such as Lawrence Block's Matt Scudder attending AA meetings), they're just tacked on; the mystery is never far beneath the surface. And I like that too. It makes for a faster-moving story, with little pauses now and then to catch your breath. Different times, different styles.
I see I did not answer Jon's question about the cut Abby-and-Ian scene. Yes, much longer; instead of those few lines, it was a fully developed scene with its own climax. Mostly it was Ian being actorish in a somewhat tense professional situation (Save the performance! Save the performance!). Not a bad scene, but not indispensable.