From time to time, however, he was baffled. “It’s odd,” said Ann Veronica, re-entering the flat. Her thoughts were busy with the possibilities of this break in her journey. He was shifting to reach his own weapon, which had fallen in between the pews at the back. It makes no difference. She saw her discarded nun’s habit still on the floor and scooped it up. I mean my cut-offs and boots. At any rate, it would be good to hear him saying the sort of things he did—perhaps now she would grasp them better—with this world-shaking secret brandishing itself about inside her head within a yard of him.
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