Am I going to die?” “I am afraid that you are in a dangerous state,” Courtlaw answered gravely. ‘Now you see why it is I no longer require the proof of which I have spoken. The afternoon had passed now into twilight. ’ Gerald seized on this. 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. Your Mom says to come downstairs for dessert.
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