See paragraph 1. " Still the voice was without emotion; calm, colourless. To his consternation, she was holding an unwieldy, ugly-looking pistol, all wood and tarnished steel, with both hands about the butt. They parked a block away from Michelle’s house in the opposite direction of where the Beck’s lived. She would flee to the wild fastnesses, the places where there were no overarching systems of any use, where she could blend with the unstable populace and kill in relative peace. Instead, they appeared to be at the hygienic level of tramps’ lodging-houses. There was granite in her face and agate in her eyes. She was quite tired of the stream of visitors and heard with relief the words of her newfound great-aunt, addressed to her son’s butler. Sheppard, who witnessed this occurrence with dismay, looked timorously at Wood, in expectation of some hint being given as to the course she had better pursue; but, receiving none, for the carpenter was too much agitated to attend to her, she ventured to express a fear that she was intruding. You have been her guardian angel.
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