But she could not live in constant association with him without having these gaps filled. “I should imagine,” he said, shaking out a copy of The Times, “that it is your brain which is addled. Inside was Anna, leaning a little forward to watch the passers-by, bright-eyed, full to the brim of the insatiable curiosity of youth—the desire to understand and appreciate this new world in which she found herself. "Well, that beats all I ever heard of!" roared Blueskin. She wanted to know. She walked over to them still carrying the trousers in her hands, and stooped to examine them. 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.
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