" "Proceed, Sir," said Trenchard, breathing hard. His job as a painter was wearing him down acutely as he aged. "We work together no more. I admired your chivalry. To hand the key back in silence was like offering a lie. In this screen, which masked the entrance of a dark passage communicating with the Condemned Hold, about five feet from the ground, was a hatch, protected by long spikes set six inches apart, and each of the thickness of an elephant's tusk.
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