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, peste. Her body was perpetually tanned, despite the approach of winter. Nothing, however, could be discerned, except the crumbling brickwork. He pointed to where the lights still burned in Anna’s windows. The jealous burn at his eyes subsided and his finger came up. That had taken her by surprise, and her tired wits had failed her. According to Lucilla, this comtesse had constituted herself something of a social leader in the rapidly growing assemblage of refugees, and would undoubtedly be ready to introduce an eligible bachelor appropriately.
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