For In Every Adult There Dwells The

“you Don't Have Much Faith In People, Do You?” Said David. “i Don't Have Much Faith In Anything,” Roland Replied. “not Even In Myself.”

I Believe In Those Whom I Love And Trust.

The Detective Was Different. Not That He Wasn't A Good Man; Willie Had Heard Enough About Him To Understand That He Was The Kind Who Didn't Like To Turn Away From Another's Pain, The Kind Who Couldn't Put A Pillow Over His Ears To Drown Out The Cries Of Strangers. Those Scars He Had Were Badges Of Courage, And Willie Knew That There Were Others Hidden Beneath His Clothes, And Still More Deep Inside, Right Beneath The Skin And Down To The Soul. No, It Was Just That Whatever Goodness Was There Coexisted With Rage And Grief And Loss.

You Mean They Killed Her?" Asked David. They Ate Her," Said Brother Number One. "with Porridge. That's What 'ran Away And Was Never Seen Again' Means In These Parts. It Means 'eaten.'" Um And What About 'happily Ever After'?" Asked David, A Little Uncertainly. "what Does That Mean?" Eaten Quickly," Said Brother Number One.

I Don't Think," He Said, "that A Vicar Is Supposed To Beat A Bishop To Death, Or Even Back To Death." Mr. Berkeley Looked Down Upon The Remains Of Bishop Bernard. "if Anyone Asks, We'll Say He Fell Over," He Said. "lots Of Times.