” “On the contrary,” Anna whispered quietly, “we met in a small boarding-house where I was stopping. She taught him all the lore she had; about bird-life and tree-life and the changing mysteries of the sea. “Don’t know me, eh? I like that. His pride, however, would not suffer him to interfere with their proceedings; much less could he bring himself to acknowledge that he had been in the wrong, and entreat Lady Trafford to remain, though he was well aware that her life might be endangered if she travelled by night. Kneebone began to dispense the fragrant fluid; begging Mrs. 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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