The bombs ticked—in remote places—behind locked and guarded doors. The bombs ticked, and the terrible sound was distinct in the farthest corners of the world—wherever a man picked up a newspaper, turned on a radio—or paused to listen to the beating of his own heart. A Bomb ... H Bomb ... X Bomb—the bombs ticked louder and louder with the growing hours—and each man dwelt alone now with the dark spectre of his own trembling fear.

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