” “You’re leaving, aren’t you?” He accused. ’ ‘Then why,’ demanded Melusine, ‘did you do it?’ Gerald closed his eyes. It was evident the lady’s servant knew his mistress, for he had come equipped with a tray upon which reposed a decanter and two glasses. 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. Oh, cuss it!” “Eh?” “He said I would. just furtive meetings. . I’m not Gerald, remember. There is a place—This isn’t the place.
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