” His father said. 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. “Often,” he repeated, a little heavily. ‘I’m a soldier, missie. 35 No homework. “Here,” he said, “is this Blau See, and here we rest until to-morrow. “I changed my last shilling yesterday.
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