She found no ready reply to that, and he went on: “This music is the food of love. . 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. ' That has always haunted me. He HAD followed her! What had he followed her for? He must have followed her all the way from beyond Grosvenor Square. CHAPTER XII.
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