82 She was putting a manuscript away, gingerly locking its heavy tooled cover, but it was a huge, awkward tome. And this clear-visioned child had comprehended that only half the rogues were really ill. 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. ’ ‘And if she can’t?’ asked Lucy. "When in France, I heard from the Marshal that his brother had perished in London on the night of the Great Storm. Perhaps you'll next inform us why you have occasioned this disturbance. That's my maxim; and it's the maxim of every honest man.
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