The Lost Symbol: In Which A Naperville Blogger Cannot Think Of A Clause To End This Title

"AAagghh!" The noise was deafening. Again and again it beat in Professor Hilary Langdon's head.
She covered her ears.
"I can't stand it! What kind of torture is this?" she asked her noble assistant Grumpy.
"mm mmm mmm bb mm bbb nnn mmm," he answered, strangely calm.
"What?"
He pulled Professor Langdon's hands away from her ears.
"It's just the Carillon on Rotary Hill," he said. "It's 11 p.m."
Professor Langdon, her body greatly toned from her daily swim at Centennial Beach, continued on her perilous journey. Using a little blue card she was able to gain entry into the empty building.
"Quick, follow me," she whispered to Grumpy.
"Wow, that was quick. How did you do that?" he said.
"Just my Naperville library card," she replied. "And it will only cost us a dollar if we use this to go to the Ogden 6 cinema after all this is over."
Professor Langdon stopped to assess the situation. They were in the lobby of a granite lined building. She knew they had to go upstairs to the third floor, but the only way up was by elevator. Since falling down a well as a child, Langdon had suffered from claustrophobia. It was so bad she'd had to have a skylight installed above her bed so she could sleep at night. It was either use the elevator or scale up the inside of the building using a complicated system of ropes and pulleys. What should she do? The chapters shrank around her. Her head swum. She started to think in really short sentences. Really short. Short.
To be continued