“As she walked, she breathed a quick benediction to the patron saint of sleuthing. "Nancy Drew," she whispered, "be with me now.”
“Drunk, Jane spoke as though she were Nancy Drew. I was a fool for a girl with a dainty lexicon.”
“She could never be a saint, but she thought she could be a martyr if they killed her quick.”
“She would have to be a saint because that was the occupation that included everything you could know; and yet she knew she would never be a saint.... but she thought she could be a martyr if they killed her quick.”
“How much do you love me?"She drew in a breath and let it out. "Too much.""Too much is just enough for this man.""And do you love me?" she whispered."I have always loved you. Always. You know that.”
“Saint Claire, the patron saint of the kick-me sign.”