Poor soul! she nearly died when she heard he had robbed his master; and it might have been well if she had done so, for she never afterwards recovered her reason. She had never been so happy to vomit. It was as much as I could do to prevent him flying out of the house there and then and coming after you. She listened, her suspicions confirmed. Something softened in Melusine’s chest. ‘Me and the butler didn’t see eye to eye. And the fences are down for good. 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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