Wood could stand it no longer. She forgot Anna’s sacrifices, forgot her own callousness, forgot the burden which she had fastened upon her sister’s shoulders. " "So it seems," observed the woollen-draper, "and for every one else, too. ” “It is within yours—if anybody’s,” he answered. They walked across a moat of pea gravel that crunched like noisy cereal under their feet. 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. Mr. ‘And then you will be obliged to remain in France,’ she pointed out. One has to train one’s self not to.
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