All at once her heart began to patter queerly. There could not, he decided, possibly be two girls so much alike. He had grabbed a tiny remote control and flew the thing around the table, landing it there and turning it off. 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’ve had it, Sheila.
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