" "I shall go mad myself if I listen to her longer," said Jack, attempting to rise. 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. While he was stirring his tea, she ran and fetched the comb. She dropped a flower—it’s in my pocket-book now. " Jack was about to comply; but not liking the man's manner, he walked on. ’ Gerald tutted.
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