” She controlled a sob. ’ ‘So that was it. You must know that. You can come back for these, for you’ll carry him to the gatehouse, that’s what you’ll do. She was perhaps as near tears as ever before in her life. 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.
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