The months that followed September spiraled downward. Throwing the blanket over his left arm and shouldering the iron bar, he again clambered up the chimney; regained the Red Room; hurried along the first passage; crossed the Chapel; threaded the entry to the Lower Leads; and, in less than ten minutes after quitting the Castle, had reached the northern extremity of the prison. “I can’t believe it. Her efforts were vain. Eh? Banging against the old rollers—that'll put some life into us both.
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