” “Far away?” “I have no idea,” Anna answered. Then he looked towards his granddaughter once more, who had flounced away to the window at her greataunt’s interruption. 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. He knew me, Nigel.
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