It was horrible, but what could she do? She meant to live her own life, and he meant, with contempt and insults, to prevent her. I had been about as foolish and selfish as a girl could be. I think that nearly every manager in London has made me an offer. 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. " "Are you a nurse?" "Yes.
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