’ She counted off on her fingers. Sir John once more looked around him. Spurlock relaxed, suddenly, and sank deeply into his pillows. “Excellent!” he exclaimed. He had the air of a man who has said too much. 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. It’s Providence. ’ Amusement flickered in Gerald’s breast. With something near to horror they found themselves thus confronted. She traveled through back yards and quiet side streets on her way home, careful to avoid the main thoroughfares, fraught as they were with people in cars who would recognize her person or notice her dress. “It’s bound to be all right,” she said. ” Lucy said.
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