“Ever think of becoming a cop?""I did, but at the time there wasn't much opportunity for women. Lady cops were confined to typing, taking shorthand, and the juvenile division.""And I don't suppose you have any womanly skills like typing or taking shorthand?"I smiled. "No, but I'm a mean shot with a .38 and I bake terrific bread.”

“A cop? You married a bloody cop?""I married a bloody criminal," Eve muttered, "but nobody ever thinks of that.”

“Jael returned the lazy smile. "You're not my type.""Well, you're not anybody's type," said Hazael. "No, wait. I take it back. My sword says she'd like to know you better.”

“I decided I would put off the novel until I had gone to Europe and had a lover, and that I would never learn a word of shorthand. If I never learned shorthand I would never have to use it.”

“The plague had killed far more females than males. As one of the few women in The New America, especially an educated, civilized woman, I’d always supposed I was ever man’s type.”

“At this point the door of the hospital room swung open and Lieutenant Adam Burke strode into the room, followed by a couple of uniformed officers. He glared at Andy Winslow. "You left the scene of the crime, Winslow."Andy looked innocently at the cop. "I did?""You know damned well you did. Who the hell do you think you are, letting a corpse into the house and then leaving her there on the floor to die."Andy grinned. "What corpse would that be, Lieutenant?""This one!" Burke jabbed a thumb at the slight figure on the bed."You mean Miss Mayhew, Lieutenant? I don't think Miss Mayhew is dead. Are you dead Miss Mayhew?"The slim woman managed a wan, tiny smile. "I don't think I'm dead. I don't even feel sick. I do have a dreadful headache, though."Andy Winslow grinned, "You're entitled to that." Then, to the cop, "It's true that Miss Mayhew was shot at Caligula Foxx's house. I though it was more important to make sure that she was all right, than to wait around for New York's Slowest -- er pardon me, I mean New York's Finest - to arrive.”