\" She was never hungry for human food. Gone off, cool as you please, and left me to manage everything. She brought the cups of cocoa back to the bedroom. His head turned sideways towards the noise, his brows scowling. 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. .
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