"I tell 'ee what, master, if you're more fortinate nor I am, and get ashore, give old saltwater your fare. 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. " "They shall have it, then," replied his better half, rising.
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