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. 3. ‘What do you say of these troops?’ ‘You see, we’re militia. You can’t do that sort of thing unless you do it over religion, and there’s no religion in me—of that sort—worth a rap. “Curious case—and sets one thinking. She dropped the manuscripts and swiftly brought the coat to him, noting that a button hung loose. I am going up to dine with my sister.
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