My profession has hardened me. Ann Veronica hesitated with a question that had leaped up in her mind, and that she felt was cruel. What could she do? Reluctantly, at a second curt command, she began to step across the uncarpeted floor, her eyes never leaving the threatening pistol. Then the bridge had arched gateways, bristling with spikes, and garnished (as all ancient gateways ought to be) with the heads of traitors.
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