She looked at her for a moment fixedly. It must be somewhere hereabouts. Sebastian was gone and another doctor came to bleed her, to rid her of the black humors that were causing the plague. “The sooner you tell me the better. You have not considered the advantages. 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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