. 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. From the unlovely hillside his glance strayed to the several five-story towers of the pawnshops. Sometimes the moon was totally eclipsed; at others, it shed a wan and ghastly glimmer over the masses rolling in the firmament. It was something that would create a mutual claim, a relationship. Wild has done his business. Get on, do. “I hate you because you are the Devil! Rot in Hell!” She was shocked at her own accusation, how she had savored the words. The misty caravans of which she had dreamed were become actualities. We are off for a second honeymoon. "I have baffled you. Your purpose is done.
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