CHAPTER XXIV Spurlock's novel was a tale of regeneration. 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. The gentleman with the red beard will relieve you of your prisoner. Then his beard was of a reddish hue, and his complexion warm and sanguine. ’ ‘You can arrest me,’ answered Kimble belligerently, ‘but you can’t make me say nothing about her. Without hindrance—present occupation. How would it serve Nicholas to keep the truth from his daughter? A tiny thread of disquiet troubled him. The elements were wrathful as their passions. " "How so?" asked the other, distrustfully.
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