I dared not sing, I dared not laugh, except when you went away. “You may not leave. And she buried herself beneath the straw, which she tossed above her head with the wildest gestures. He continued to do this for the rest of the evening intermittently, in and out, among other topics. ‘But how did she meet such a person in a convent?’ ‘He was wounded and came there for sanctuary,’ Gerald explained, adding almost through his teeth. Wood, whose loss I shall ever deplore. 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.
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