” She smiled at him, an understanding smile, but her words defied him. At this time of day the priest would be at his apartments in Brewer Street, a short walk away from Golden Square which the building overlooked. She went about the gory business of disposing of the bodies, cutting them up with a large butcher knife and packing the light dry pieces of their bloodless remains in a double ply garbage bag, pieces that looked like overcooked, ruined meat. A deep dread calm, like that which precedes a thunderstorm, now prevailed amongst the assemblage. ” He was suddenly resentful. "A mother's prayers—a mother's blessings," she cried, with the fervour almost of inspiration, "will avail against a fiend's malice. She'll be mighty interesting to watch.
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