Mother! do you know what you do? Would you sell yourself to this fiend?" "I would sell myself, body and soul, to save you," rejoined his mother, bursting from his grasp. “Let’s go home. 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. At least I rather hoped I might spend my time chasing smugglers, which would have afforded some excitement. ’ ‘Is it, now? Well you won’t, then, for he won’t hear nothing, missie. " So saying, he left the room. "Do me the favour to seat yourself, Jack," said Sir James.
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