Ed. 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. She watched them sleep for what seemed hours from the high window until her body grew colder than the stone sill she perched upon. “I suppose, Vee, you don’t see much of those Widgetts now?” “I go in and talk to Constance sometimes. She tried to imagine herself “getting something,” to project herself as sitting down at a desk and writing, or as returning after her work to some pleasantly equipped and free and independent flat. " "An excellent maxim!" replied his wife, approvingly; "the best I ever heard you utter. He's down in Patagonia somewhere.
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