Heaven forbid. Too damned chickenhearted to confess to me he’d run off with the woman. 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. ’ ‘She will have taken him with her. . Sensing his discomfort, she stood up and brushed lint off of the hem of her gray miniskirt. Get nothing out of me.
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