’ ‘It’s not that,’ the nun said urgently, ‘but I’ve remembered something important. ‘Not here. ” The talk was animated, and remained always brilliant in form even when it ceased to be brilliant in substance. 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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