Was there anything at all in those locked rooms of her aunt’s mind? Were they fully furnished and only a little dusty and cobwebby and in need of an airing, or were they stark vacancy except, perhaps, for a cockroach or so or the gnawing of a rat? What was the mental equivalent of a rat’s gnawing? The image was going astray. As his eyes adjusted, he was able to make out the great shrouded shapes of the furniture. ” “We will go to a very quiet place,” he assured her, “a place where I have often taken my own sisters. . One keeps rules in order to be one’s self.
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