It was easy for him to see that she desired to be agreeable to him. ‘Mademoiselle. But one thing troubled him, and because of it he might never arrive on the beach. She turned back to Gerald, holding out her hand. 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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