Ruth sighed; Spurlock stood up and drew his hand across his forehead as if awakening from a dream. "And now let's see who'll dare to oppose me. 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. “Mr. Restlessness, then, was the trouble, simple restlessness: home bored her. With trembling fingers she opened the post-bag. There are men in the Lowndean who laugh at him—simply laugh at him. ” Michelle looked away.
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