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E. 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. The tears were streaming down her face, her voice was thick with sobs. "Your servant, Sir Rowland," said the stranger, ducking his head, as he advanced. How came you, Sir," he continued, addressing Sheppard, "to venture upon that frame.
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