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. There was something about their greeting and the tone of Annabel’s exclamation which puzzled her. Won’t you come and have some tea with me? There is a new place in Bond Street,” he hastened to say, “where everything is very well done, and they give us music, if that is any attraction to you. Horrible doubts assailed her. He put it carefully aside, resolved to defer the attempt till night. . “Fearful old fogey! I can’t imagine any sister of yours putting up with him for a moment.
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