Sheppard, faintly. She wondered wildly why she had stood up. 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. ’ ‘No, of course you could not,’ Gerald soothed. Old Bedlam. "The intelligence seems new to you. Anyhow, it were me as got you down to the wetnurse.
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