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. ‘I’ll take wine,’ the lady said briefly, turning back instantly to Hilary. “I had thought to go on to Kandersteg,” said Capes, “but this is a pleasant place. ‘Word has it that she is English on her father’s side.
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