White said. ’ A panel slid open and she stepped into the relative light of the little dressingroom, Kimble close behind her. " "May I trust you?" hesitated Thames. Yet she took with her an uneasy consciousness that in this affair might lie the germs of future trouble. “I don’t think our engagement can go on,” she plunged, and felt exactly that loss of breath that comes with a dive into icy water. ’ A peal of laughter came from the girl. The place for reading. 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. She remained for a few moments standing as though listening to his retreating footsteps. “Ye Gods!” she said at last. ’ He flushed. She felt scrawny, lanky, badly dressed in a baggy black T-shirt, sweaty, not at all beautiful; not even pretty. That’s the wonder of it. It must be somewhere hereabouts.
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