Here was the place behind the shed where she had used to hide from Roddy’s persecutions, and here the border of herbaceous perennials under whose stems was fairyland. She crushed the letter in her hand. Don’t go back into Victorian respectability and pretend you don’t know and you can’t think and all the rest of it. ’ ‘Comment? You wish to murder me?’ ‘No, I wish to beat you,’ he retorted. 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. Shouting to his companion, even as they passed by where I hid myself, he called out that he thought to find you at the convent. ‘You’d do the same. "Put about, waterman, for God's sake!" cried Wood, whose humanity got the better of every personal consideration; "some one is overboard.
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