We’re closer than you think. 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. Cursing under his breath, Gerald moved swiftly across and dragged her away. ’ ‘Then leave me to guard myself, and do not ask me questions any more,’ she snapped, and crouched down suddenly, searching about for her dagger.
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