"You don't look like a priest." Some of the growl damps down as Marcus stops struggling, a little tit for tat. "You don't act or sound like one, and I know every clergyman from here to Westchester." A slight exaggeration to make a point, but he knows them well enough to say this man doesn't have parishioners here.

Give a little, get a little: Marcus' toes can touch the ground now. balls of his feet even, heels. It's only fair that he gives: "Only dying girls need priests, so why don't you try again?"