"But—sapperment!—I wish they hadn't broken my pipe. Good night. For a long time to come that would naturally be the theme of any story he undertook to write. ” “I’ll wait, then. " "Nay, if you're bent upon this folly," observed Wild, who appeared to have his own reasons for humouring the lad, "I shan't hinder you. They seldom arrive on the beach. There was an eerie sense of brooding menace about an uninhabited establishment. Your speaking of the trial brings the whole scene to my mind. 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.
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