Charity Whiteheart kept the pistol pointed at my face. She hissed, “So you are the creature that Podovkin has set upon us? I am very disappointed. Did he think that because I am a woman he need simply send a girl … a darkie with … a hammer … against me? Does he have no respect?”
“No, he does not,” I said. “Not for you and most certainly not for me. Does that not give us common ground?”
Whiteheart’s eyes grew colder. I heard the protest of floor boards carrying unexpected weight. The floor dipped. Something very large and heavy had come silently into the room behind me.