However, that’s over and done with. 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. Every now and then she fingered an ornament, moved a piece of furniture, or rearranged some draperies. ’ A strangled sob escaped her as his thumb dug cruelly into the soft flesh of her wrist. . Ah! she looks this way, and puts her finger to her lips.
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