His hands reached under her skirt. " "Because this child's life was threatened by the persons you have mentioned," rejoined Wood. ’ ‘So I heard. "I'll go to her directly," said Wood, bustling towards the door. ” “Oh, Drummond’s dinner!” she repeated. His first reaction had been explosive as the hurts of the past rose up to taunt him. For that matter, my future be damned. You called yourself a murderess. 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. Wood started to his feet. Wow.
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