To Ruth the thought of Hartford no longer projected upon her vision a city of spires and houses and tree-lined streets. ” “Oh, gimme a break, Lucy. ‘Well said, my dear. " The lad made no answer, but left the room. 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. ‘But I ain’t been idle, miss, I swear it.
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