She felt it would save explanations if she did not state she had left her home and was looking for employment. . . 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. No doubt he has been drinking for days without eating substantially, and his heart gave out. He taught her about crowds, which men were the evilest, how to locate and dispose society’s garbage. I need only just jump up and throw myself upon you.
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