She had always wondered when they would start being able to trace her kills, with their expanding systems of criminal databases and computers, and now it was starting to happen. There was a tearing sound and the cloth of her habit ripped apart as the smothered point drove through it, missing its intended target. But it never said: "Tell someone! Tell someone!" Was he something of a moral pervert, then? Was it what he had lost—the familiar world—rather than what he had done? He stared dully at the footrail. It was not as bad a wound as she had at first thought, and the blood was only oozing now. ’ ‘You surprise me.
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