Lucy sighed, finding it odd to switch roles as she had over the past weeks. 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. She had better escape if she can. “I’m sorry, ma’am, to seem the cause of any disturbance, but this,” he pointed to Anna, “is my wife. Lucy slept in the same room as Shari, only ten feet away. Good night. "But, it strikes me, I've heard that Mrs.
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