Gin Lane's the nearest road to the churchyard. A strong coarse man, and there were things in his eyes which made my blood run cold with terror. But she was disturbed, mysteriously disturbed. To walk beside him, dressed akin to him, rucksacked and companionable, was bliss in itself; each step she took was like stepping once more across the threshold of heaven. The three of them laughed joyously. Panic leapt into his eyes as he brought his wrist up just in time to parry the blade. His red hair marked him, cut short into a round shape that had the texture of a Brillo pad.
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