In Evelyn's not-so-humble opinion, that still sounds like a bit of killing, even if it's in self-defence. She can't condemn it, but she can condone homicide, either. Rick has more experience in the matter, more assuredness, the ability to decide in a split-second if the man in front of him is threat enough to pull the trigger and rid the world of his ilk.

Then again, she's never really considered how many innocents her husband has probably killed as well. People just doing their job. Fighting on the wrong side in the heat of battle, trapped in a war and drafted into the military.

God, she hopes her son never has to see the draft.

"You did what you had to do," Evelyn insists firmly, sitting with her hands in her lap, not quite realising that she's supposed to buckle herself in properly (what are automobile safety standards in 1935, anyways?).

"That's all there is to it."