" "Your hesitation is not in your favour," observed Trenchard, sternly. His mind was filled briefly with psychic images of a charnel house that danced like a spider in his head. She tried to compose her thoughts, to think of the last six months, to steep herself in the calm beauty of the surroundings. ‘They’ve gone, miss,’ came the answer, muffled through the panel door. ” She stared before her, trying to keep back a rush of tears. She listened, listened intently for several minutes.
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