She spun around and I heard her inhale sharply. "What the hell?" she exclaimed in her Portuguese-accented English. I raised my hands, palms forward. "I just want to talk to you." I used English because it was the language of the persona she'd initially met me in-the one she had initially trusted. She looked over her shoulder for a moment, perhaps gauging the distance to her door, then turned back to me, apparently reassured. "I don't want to talk to you." She emphasized the first and last words of the sentence, her accent thickening somewhat in her agitation.
( Barry Eisler )
[ A Lonely Resurrection ]
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