‘You mean I should give myself a dressingdown? Very well. ‘I should not dream of forcing my attentions on you. ‘Ain’t my place, I know that. Suddenly the Wastrel took hold of the edge and flung the table aside. ‘I find you excessively rude, both of you,’ said the lady crossly. " "Impossible," replied Sheppard, in the same tone. " "May I look at it, Sir!" said Austin, stepping towards him. 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. Telling the porter that he would attend to the house himself, he bade him go in search of Jack Sheppard.
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