She was the High Priestess. ” “I say, you know, you have some pluck. I want him as my friend. 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 is one of them,” Ennison said. “What is a ballot-box like, exactly?” she asked, as though it was very important to her.
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