It was the only time she had ever hit him, punched him right in the stomach like one of his favorite Three Stooges episodes. Nowadays, from the looks of it, people were lining up to become vampires. It's a sorry world," he went on. At length the manager arrived; and together he and Ruth succeeded in getting some of the aromatic spirits of ammonia down the patient's throat. 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. This man was her husband in the eyes of both God and man. “Of course!” he said.
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