“I came to London,” said Ann Veronica, “rather because of my own difficulty. "Swear that you will do this," she cried. Rhea commanded her. Spurlock had better stick to the bungalow. The smile had become a laugh. “I must take them,” she said, to help herself over her own incredulity. But if she smiled at all it was with her eyes. 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. Then they rode off at speed. . Brendon dismissed the subject with a wave of the hand. ‘I don’t want him having an apoplexy in this house. “I think,” he said, “that I am right.
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