Still—you must learn for yourself. 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. " "Never mind," returned the stranger, dismounting; "you'll recollect me by and by, I've no doubt. It was after all a momentary affair. Find out what I have done or failed to do. The sun was setting in spectacular multicolored streams beyond Whitefield Park. Couldn’t face me with what he’d done, the miserable blackguard. He was just getting cross about your being late for dinner—you know his way—when it came. Maggot. You would rather live like the scum of the earth, in that little brown hovel you call a house, in bourgeois paradise.
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