“Dear friend,” she said, “do you not think that you are breaking an unspoken compact? I am very sorry. 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. In the centre of the upper gallery was a spacious saloon, appropriated to the governors of the asylum. . . A mutual recognition took place at the same instant between the stranger and this individual. ” “There are some French customs,” he declared, “which are admirable. ” She noted that as a good saying, and it germinated and spread tentacles of explanation through her brain. "Nobody has so much cause for complaint as me," growled Austin.
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