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. Wood was heard without, angrily demanding admittance. I never let her read stories, or have pets, dolls. ” Annabel laughed derisively and took up her book. So long as a man behaves himself, I can't refuse him liquor. “I feared we might have a fog.
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