I'll knock off at tea. 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. “If only her sister is half as pretty, no wonder that she has set the Parisians talking. There could not, he decided, possibly be two girls so much alike. Until the age of five she adored him. ” “Wait,” she said. “My friend,” she said, “no! Let me tell you this. ‘I have only borrowed it.
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