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. “Afterwards it seems to me that there are no limits to what one may not do amongst one’s own set. ’ He only laughed. There were menacing possibilities; the thought of them set him a-tremble. Listening at one of the doors leading to the Master Debtors' side, he heard a loud voice chanting a Bacchanalian melody, and the boisterous laughter that accompanied the song, convinced him that no suspicion was entertained in this quarter. When I think of it—” “But these are things I want to tell you now!” “I made a little song of it.
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