It has all been a mistake. ‘Here we go again. And I want him out of uniform. It isn't for their sakes, it's for your own. “Please forgive me—for one moment,” she sobbed. As she approached the corner of the Avenue the blond, no-hatted man in gray flannels appeared. ‘By traitors I am surrounded!’ ‘Stop talking utter twaddle,’ ordered Roding, marching up to the desk.
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