“Do you think you should be wearing your priest clothes?” she said. Karras eyed her with a pity that he tried to conceal. Her face and her voice: how helplessly childlike they were. “Too dangerous,” he told her. “Okay.” Chris turned back and started opening the door, and it was then that Karras felt it: a chill, tugging warning. It scraped through his bloodstream like particles of ice. “Father Karras?” He looked up. Chris had entered.
