I didn’t understand before that letter. 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. . “Agreed,” he said with queer exaltation, and his grip tightened on her hand. The van started with a jerk and rumbled on its way. “Lots of ‘em!” Capes chuckled. Rhea spun round and sank her teeth into Lucy’s arm. Stanley had never thought out.
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