Men have seen to that. CHAPTER XXII. Don’t leave me in this beastly thing. Melusine grasped the hilt of the sword she had been carefully holding, and came out into the light. “You shall go,” he declared. I'll tell you what. 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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