"I killed everyone that tried to stop me," she says flatly. After a moment, she adds: "It wasn't that hard. A shard of glass through the eye, a knife in the dark..." She shrugs, almost nonchalantly. "You get used to it after a while." A pause. "What about you?"
She is silent for a while; when she finally speaks, she ignores his last dark comment and centers on his first. "Well," she says with a slight smile, "Subtlety of that sort would have been a little harder to do. You can't really die and be carted out in a brothel, unless of course the... customer... paid enough for it." She shrugs. "But they usually didn't."