The vote is only the beginning, the necessary beginning. I'll tell you what. ” The girl sat up and looked at him with a curious twist at the corners of her mouth —humorous or pathetic, he could not tell which. At the present moment she was living in a world of her own creation, a carnival of brave men and fair women, characters out of the tales she had so newly read for the first time. “May I sit beside you?” “It’s a very difficult one,” said her aunt. What’s your name?” He asked in return. “Come to my rooms and have a drink. Meysey Hill—never your wife. The impassivity of her features changed at last. She despises me, I suppose. 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.
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