I MUST. ” In the car, John was wound up. 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. The study seemed absolutely unaltered, there was still the same lamp with a little chip out of the shade, still the same gas fire, still the same bundle of blue and white papers, it seemed, with the same pink tape about them, at the elbow of the arm-chair, still the same father. “It is just a look. "The danger's past," whispered Bess. One of your aunts died, I believe, and the other removed to London. " "May be," returned the man gravely. "A vow," she answered,—"a vow to my dead husband. Spurling has induced him to sit down again. Never bought a shirt in my life, Mr.
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