He looked at the big, heavy revolver and weighed it in his hand. Then he glanced at the girl’s right wrist. It was as slender as a child’s.
“Well, I can understand him,” he mumbled. “If you’re fascinated by firearms…”
Suddenly he raised his voice.
“But I’m not fascinated,” he shouted. “I hate this sort of thing. Do you get that? This is a foul thing that shouldn’t be allowed to exist. No firearms should exist. The fact that they are still made and that all sorts of people have them lying about in drawers or carry them around in the street just shows that the whole system is perverted and crazy. Some bastard makes a fat profit by making and selling arms, just the way other people make a fat profit on factories that make narcotics and deadly pills. Do you get it?”
From The Laughing Policeman, by Maj Sjöwall and Per Wahlöö (1968)