‘Never trust a gun in female hands,’ grumbled Hilary, dropping the nun’s habit and backing to join his friend. And like that gospel it meant something, something different from its phrases, something elusive, and yet something that in spite of the superficial incoherence of its phrasing, was largely essentially true. Her girl Clarice was next, dying within a single day, blood leaking from her pretty brown eyes like an image of the Blessed Virgin. " There was another pause. Lucy clapped a hand over Michelle’s mouth and struck her neck with a swift blow to the carotid artery. “My chief,” he said, “took it into his head to have an impromptu dinner party. He uttered a deep groan, but said nothing.
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