They said no more for a moment, and each was now acutely aware of the other. 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. Madame Valade was looking heartily bored, he noted, as his searching eyes found out the couple. Sir Rowland then fell. This was unscrupulous, he admitted, because he had no intention of following through on the seductive promise in his conduct. Perhaps that is why I lost my ambition. ” “You would marry a divorcée?” she asked. But the mere recognition of his son’s signature was enough to stoke the fires of his long-held rage. She heard the rats scattering across the stone as dirt fell into the crypt. Only sat, staring at him, a puzzled look in her face. “Have you ever seen Annabel with him?” she asked.
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