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. Ah Cum patrolled the length of the boat innumerable times, but never letting his glance stray far from the gangplank. Henceforth Ruth would closely observe her fellow women and note the hang of their skirts. No, let us dine here, and then go and have our coffee on the boulevards. It looked very patient, she thought, and a little self-satisfied. "Every brick I take out," cried Jack, as fresh rubbish clattered down the chimney, "brings me nearer my mother.
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