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. ’ Melusine had crossed to the window that overlooked the front of the house, and was trying to peep through a crack in the shutters. If Jack should die, all though her fault, she could never forgive herself. Oh, wait!’ She seized Jack’s arm as he was about to go out of the room.
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