Looked all over that dratted convent of yours—or at least Trodger and the men did so—but no sign of them. “Not at all. ” The irrepressible smile curved Anna’s lips. Possessed, at one time, of a share in the South Sea stock, he conceived himself worth twenty thousand pounds. 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. Ann Veronica halted a pace, and Miss Klegg came alongside.
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