Her patience was waning fast. She was leaning over him and he smelled her like he had never smelled anyone before. “He is Annabel’s husband,” she reminded him. You belong to me, and I have waited long enough. 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.
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