Shari’s head poked out of the bathroom where she had been preoccupied with preparations for her morning shower. Half a day had turned the corner of the hours; and Ah Cum admitted that this girl puzzled him. The two hostlers, however, kept close at his heels; and Jack, whose strength began to flag, feared he could not hold much longer. 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.
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