Brute! Fool! To have come to her on such an errand. 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. “Loneliness,” she said, “is a luxury which I never permit myself. "What shall I do? If I persist, I shall destroy her. Clarice loved babies as much as Lucia did and chattered about them day and night. Recurrently she heard: "I don't know; I really don't know.
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