Her sleepless night had left her languid but not stupefied, and for an hour or so the work distracted her altogether from her troubles. . ” She lifted steadfast eyes to him. ” “Delusion!” he muttered, glaring at her. They shouted to her from the wings to come off. That won’t involve references, as a bank account would—and all that sort of thing. 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. The moment they cease to be serviceable, or become dangerous he lodges an information, and the matter's settled. She had eaten them, murdered them routinely, and yet he loved her still. " "It does so," said Wild.
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