She was not afraid of violence, but she was afraid of something mean, some secondary kind of force. “You’re. ’ ‘I also said, if you remember, that I could not promise not to do so. He seemed like a very intelligent doctor and not at all like a snooty archbishop. She was perplexed by this, and stood for some seconds in the empty street hesitating, until the appearance of another circumspect woman under the street lamp at the corner reassured her. Lucy had tried for years to find a way of not getting blood all over herself when she made a kill.
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