She fought the inclination for a while, then surrendered. 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. Wood trembled. I will see to it as I will be appointed careful watch over her. ’ ‘Now then, missie,’ began the sergeant severely, ‘just you hand over that dagger.
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