“Yes. "Quilt!—Mendez!—Where are you?" vociferated Wild, sounding his whistle for the third time. ’ ‘Who is that?’ demanded Lucilla eagerly. ” The lady stood away from the door. It is very sweet of you to have waited for me. 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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