CHAPTER III. A quarter of an hour passed. Two of these had been her particular intimates at the High School, and had done much to send her mind exploring beyond the limits of the available literature at home. “What if you get pregnant?” His worry came to a quick fruition. Nab and Quilt to the door! Jack, you are my prisoner. Why do you look so sad?” She opened her eyes wider and stifled her emotions. 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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