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She dared not look directly at him, her head obscured by a gray hoodie, she had the slumped appearance of an androgynous adolescent. He grabbed her wrist and prised the weapon from her fingers, ignoring her other hand that clawed at his to try to retain the trophy. ’ ‘Don’t start arguing again, for God’s sake,’ snapped Roding irritably, dragging out his own large pocket-handkerchief. She could feel teenage girls from all corners of the room tensing, preparing to shriek. "But I wish her hand had been as deadly as yours. She was fine and tender.
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