He was an old, skilled vampire. I have a big breakfast. I didn’t dream, not even in my wildest dreaming, that—you might have any need of me. 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. “I was glad you did not send it back again,” he said. ‘I must see the lady who is my great-aunt. Section 3.
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