whose apparent function was to support the ceiling. There was no sign here of the mysterious current that prevailed outside in the lane.
Momo followed the tortoise as it waddled ahead of her down the long corridor.
At the far end it stopped outside a little door just big enough for Momo to duck through.
WE'RE HERE, the tortoise's shell announced. There was a little sign on the door.
Kneeling down so that it was on a level with her nose, Momo read the inscription.
PROFESSOR SECUNDUS MINUTUS HORA, it said. She drew a deep breath and boldly lifted the latch.
As soon as the little door opened, her ears were assailed by a melodious chorus of tinkling and chiming and ticking and humming and whirring.
She followed the tortoise inside, and the latch clicked into place behind them.
ELEVEN: THE CONFERENCE
Innumerable figures were scurrying around the headquarters of the Timesaving Bank,
a gray-lit labyrinth of passages and corridors, passing on the latest news in agitated whispers:
every member of the directional board had been summoned to attend an extraordinary general meeting.
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