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. He continued to do this for the rest of the evening intermittently, in and out, among other topics. Things seem to come rather easily. He had been gone entirely one day, for yesterday afternoon he had departed from Remenham House, and she had waited with patience like a saint, and now it was again the afternoon. ’ ‘How did you come by it? You didn’t steal it, did you?’ ‘Certainly I did not steal it,’ said Melusine indignantly. And if you mean that he may have reconciled himself with his own father, you waste your breath. You’re a far cry from your usual gloomy self these days. And Ann Veronica walked beside him, trying in vain to soften her heart to him by the thought of how she had ill-used him, and all the time, as her feet and mind grew weary together, rejoicing more and more that at the cost of this one interminable walk she escaped the prospect of—what was it?—“Ten thousand days, ten thousand nights” in his company.
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