The small bed’s hospital corners had been put into disarray by Michelle’s crying fit. Her natural instincts reasserted themselves. 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 acted as her mother had taught her to. "I would have done more, if necessary. ” Part 3 When Ann Veronica found herself in her father’s study that evening it seemed to her for a moment as though all the events of the past six months had been a dream.
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