The next page was a drawing that she had made in pen and ink of his face, or what she had remembered of it. “I see the difficulty. I had no curiosity of that kind. Agents were dispersed in all directions—offers the most tempting held out to induce the wavering to join the Chevalier's standard. Why on earth couldn’t he leave her to grow in her own way? Her pride rose at the bare thought of return. 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. . This amazing world she had set forth to discover! Yesterday at this time she had had no thought in her head about Canton.
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