‘Never trust a gun in female hands,’ grumbled Hilary, dropping the nun’s habit and backing to join his friend. She was glad when he went on: “I want to be your city of refuge from every sort of bother. ” Behind this woman and a little to the side of her, walked a man smartly dressed, with desire and appraisal in his eyes. ” There was a strange look in her face, the look of a frightened child. And in some incomprehensible way, Ramage was confused with Capes; she had a grotesque disposition to persuade herself that this was really Capes who surrounded her, as it were, with wings of desire. It isn’t the same thing. “And as for praying for faith—this sort of monologue is about as near as any one of my sort ever gets to prayer. ” She laughed softly. The knight, who could ill brook this familiarity, instantly arose.
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