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. I have to see if you carry any more weapons. ‘Who’d believe me? And I’d have to tell my part in it all, too. The man, who was just able to move, pointed towards Giltspur-street. She did not know Mr.
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