” “It is you,” he cried, “you, who are talking folly, when you speak of friendship between you and me. 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. “Perhaps,” he said, “I have been to blame. He sent a speculative glance at the immobile yellow face. I thought Bess would have cried her pretty eyes out when she heard you was nabbed. She felt surges of longing escape every corner of her flesh. “Project Gutenberg” is a registered trademark. ” “I still——” Anna stopped short. F.
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