’ She saw the weapon wrenched from Emile’s hand and he dropped to the bench of the pew and sat there, grasping helplessly at the welling blood on his arm. Turning, she heaved at the bottom door and slammed it in his face just as he came leaping forward to grab her. She saw her aunt in tears, her father white-faced and hard hit. She was acquiring truths, but in a series of shocks rather than by the process of analysis.
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