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. From his wallet he brought forth a yellow letter. "Nothing whatever," rejoined the thief-taker, coldly. I said to myself, ‘this will come. The walls are too high, and the windows too stoutly barricaded in this quarter, to admit such a supposition. She got up, drew up her blind, and stared out of window at a dawn-cold vision of chimneys for a time, and then went and sat on the edge of her bed.
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