She moved with such purpose it was as though she walked with exclamation marks.

I believe there is a considerable range in the bang of most guns.

She was no closer to determining who might want her dead. There were just too many possibilities.

...Tunstell was not what one could describe as call subtle. His flaming red hair bobbed up with each pointed and articulated footstep as though he were some cloaked Gothic villain creeping across a stage.

Someone was trying to kill Lady Alexia Maccon. It was most inconvenient, as she was in a dreadful hurry. Given her previous familiarity with near-death experiences and their comparative frequency with regards to her good self, Alexia should probably have allowed extra time for such a predictable happenstance.

It's no good choosing your first husband from a school for evil geniuses. Much too difficult to kill.

Ah, Ivy, thought Alexia happily, spreading a verbal fog wherever she goes.