Then he turned with a fierce movement to take her into his arms. 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. “All the time he is shouting and muttering. Pardon what I have said, Madam. How will I protect myself if you do not?’ ‘If you will only confide in me, I will be happy to protect you,’ Gerald said cheerfully. Too easily roused emotions and too little passion. “The truth!” It was a moment of awkwardness between the two sisters —a moment, too, charged with its own psychological interest, for there were secrets between them which for many months had made their intercourse a constrained and difficult thing. “It was perhaps my fault. They heard voices inside but stood for a full thirty seconds looking at each other. No! That was impossible. Anybody in pain had only to call to him.
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