Gregory found his job as main doorman for the tower of London a stressful one. But tonight he was beginning to wonder if his old heart was going to give out for good. In his time he had let few people enter the tower and even less leave. He had been warned that a small company of men would arrive at the door on his watch and he was to let them pass asking no questions. He had waited many hours when the knock he had feared finally came. The sound echoed through the empty rooms of this stone prison. Gregory shuffled towards the entrance, dragging his right leg behind him. His leg had stopped bothering him; he had survived with the pain for twenty five years now so he had learned to ignore it. The knock sounded again as he reached the handle. Gregory thought about how patience had left the world, he thought how the world had lost so many virtues as it had aged. He pulled on the door. The wood creaked open. Fresh air flooded into the state entrance hall. Gregory inhaled deeply and looked out before him.