Lucy looked at her with a small measure of pity. "What! you still hesitate! Will that rouse you, coward?" And she gave him a smart rap on the head. 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. It occurred to her that it was absurd and wrong to be so continuously thinking of one engrossing topic, and she made a strenuous effort to force her mind to other questions. Forthwith he presented his card. From what she could tell, he truly had convinced himself that he was in love with her, but she knew that his ardor would fade eventually inasmuch as she knew John’s would. Wood, who had merely absented himself to see that a public breakfast, which he had ordered at the Six Bells for all who chose to partake of it, was in readiness. He sat back in an easy chair with a hand upon each of the elbows, and looked steadfastly into the fire. “I can’t believe it. Ennison slightly——” There was a dead silence in the little room.
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