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. For if Gerald had indeed gone to see this Prudence, it was better to wait for his report. "The glass never sinks in that way, d'ye see, without a hurricane follerin', I've knowed it often do so in the West Injees.
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