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. ’ ‘Yes, but in fact you’ve offered me far more entertainment than any French spy could have done. She had been working upon a ribbon of microtome sections of the developing salamander, and he came to see what she had made of them.
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