” Michelle squinted conspiratorially. 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. But her great-aunt was nodding, as if this was what she had expected. . —D'ye hear?" Still the widow remained silent.
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