No one spoke to her. “We’ll clean up everything tidy,” said Capes. ‘Is there a resemblance?’ ‘This is Mary Remenham?’ ‘That is my late niece, yes. She was fatigued physically and mentally, and neither mind nor body could rest. “I think she is the perpetrator behind several attacks, not just the clothes stealing. “Bother it all!” she swore. 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 would meet him upon this ground: he should never be given the slightest hint that she was unhappy. I thought every one had heard about it. The knots and broken pale that made the garden-fence scalable, and gave access to the fields behind, were still to be traced.
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