. 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. He stared at her stupidly, forgetting to guard against the tactics he had come to expect from her. He had not been successful as the world counted success; the fat bank-account, the filled waiting room of which he had once dreamed, had never materialized except in the smoke of his evening pipe. You were very good. ” He shook his head slowly, smiling mysteriously. “I am only sorry that I did not ask you to go with me. ‘For that I shall certainly not leave until you have told me every tiny detail. . .
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