"You can render no further service to your poor mother. She grew perhaps a shade paler, and she glanced out into the street, where her four-wheeler cab, laden with luggage, was still waiting. Ann Veronica looked down at her fingers on the claret-colored table-cloth. She had no intention whatsoever of spending her life in a convent, but that was not his affair. "It's not an offer," continued he, "that I'm likely to make, or you're likely to receive every day in the year. ‘My dear boy, your loyalty is misplaced. Bodies were piled high in the streets, Sebastian went on rounds and would come back late at night, reporting horrors and robberies, death that came within hours, not days.
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