He took her hand and looked into her eyes and spoke, divided against himself, in a voice that was forced and insincere. 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. Gerald reached out a hand to stop her. CHAPTER XXVI Spurlock went out on his toes, careful lest the bamboo curtain rattle behind him. That is, if Spurlock had been throwing money about, which was more than likely.
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