‘His wife? Pah!’ ‘You’re saying she is not his wife?’ ‘I am saying nothing. Capes saw her, felt for her, cared for her greatly, even if he did not love her. 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. “And besides,” said Ann Veronica, sweeping that aspect aside, “what could I do? A boy sails out into a trade or profession. Certainly I cannot kill you if you tell me to do so. “I’m sorry.
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