Then Sheila noticed the stains. “Thank you, Martin,” she replied graciously. Her eyebrows were lifted in expostulation. ’ ‘Damnation!’ ‘What the devil ails you?’ demanded his friend, striding forward. ” “I hope that you may,” Anna answered enigmatically. Ann Veronica pushed aside a tea-cup and the vestiges of her strawberries and cream, and put her elbows before her on the table. 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. As she crossed the square, almost within a stone’s throw of her lodgings, she came face to face with Courtlaw. Her father, her own father! She remembered now a verse from the Psalms her father had always been quoting; but now she recited it with perfect understanding.
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