“Let us walk across the Park at least,” he said to Ann Veronica. I want you to be my lover. “I never saw Courtlaw with her—never heard her speak of him. 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. “What else did Michelle say?” “She said that the guy was all broken up about it, that he had another woman on the side or something.
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