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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. . Sheppard. Grimly Hilary smiled to himself at the effect of Gerald’s name. Much more temperate; the discreet and joyless love of a virtuous, reluctant, condescending wife. “By Jove!” she said, standing up at last, “that about finishes it, Ann Veronica!” CHAPTER THE TENTH THE SUFFRAGETTES Part 1 “There is only one way out of all this,” said Ann Veronica, sitting up in her little bed in the darkness and biting at her nails. “It’s the stir of spring,” he said. Balanced on his nose were enormous tortoise-shell spectacles.
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