Cursing under his breath, Gerald moved swiftly across and dragged her away. Then the bridge had arched gateways, bristling with spikes, and garnished (as all ancient gateways ought to be) with the heads of traitors. He embraced her, kissing her cheek, then her neck. With a gesture which was without any kind of emotional expression, the manager indicated the silent crumpled figure on the floor and gave the room number.
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