“It means that I have had enough of this slavery,” she declared. “I hope you are going to Carey House. “I haven’t seen the new Patience, dear,” she said. 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. Understand me. Wood, softening her asperity. "This she-devil has got hold of the sack. You have grown into my life. “Can you give me any information as to this affair?” he asked. It’s not fair to you.
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