" He heard a whipping sound, something cutting through the air.

Beattie stopped. He let go of Raven, his eyes bulging as he clutched between his legs, a crippling, uncomprehending agony on his face.

He dropped to his knees, revealing Sarah behind him. She stood with a poker gripped in both hands, fire in her eyes.

‘I also have the wit to know that a preening onanist who regards himself a god does not gladly wait upon a housemaid,’ she said.

As these words met Beattie’s ears, the poker whipped through the air again, this time connecting with his skull. "

― Ambrose Parry , The Way of All Flesh (Raven, Fisher, and Simpson, #1)