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. I overlooked the mechanical imperfections of your work, the utter lack of finish, the crudeness of your drawing. She had felt very uncomfortable around him, grotesque. She thought Alice a bit of a sneak, an opinion her brothers shared, and Gwen rather a snatch at meals. org/2/6/5/9/26596/ Produced by D.
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