Her aunt went off at a tangent. “Quite different. ‘But it is entirely myself,’ she exclaimed aloud. S. ” Lucy shrugged, trying to appear nonchalant. 1. 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. E. Lucy had passed the house once on the sidewalk, on a rare day when he was shoveling snow. ’ ‘What? But—’ ‘Precisely, Hilary. His fatigue was tacitly understood within the family; it was a phenomenon which everyone acknowledged as related to the trades. How would it serve Nicholas to keep the truth from his daughter? A tiny thread of disquiet troubled him. Books were always sliding and slipping, clumsy objects to hold.
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