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Mrs. Devonshire was sitting on the edge of the sofa, straight, her hands flat on her thighs. She was shaking. That was understandable, considering the gun pointed at her chest. I was sitting opposite her in the comfortable armchair. My hand wasn’t shaking. I wouldn’t be able to do my job properly if I couldn’t manage the stress.
“I tell you the truth, Mrs. Devonshire,” I said. “This isn’t a robbery. Though it will look like one after I finish here.”
I could see in her eyes that she slowly processed what I had said. She was beautiful despite some crow’s feet. Her blue eyes resembled sapphires. It made me sad to destroy such a beauty, but I had a job to do.