At sunset the swarming abruptly ceased; even the sampans appeared to draw closer together, with the quiet of water-fowl. She laid her hand upon his arm. She longed to allow him to kiss her again, to touch her again. ‘No one is here, Melusine, except you and I. Bit priggish, isn’t it? And if he only knew it—so absurd. 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. Ruth went on to explain. She took the tray with both hands, gulped, and gave way to tears. She visited the corner that had been her own little garden—her forget-me-nots and candytuft had long since been elbowed into insignificance by weeds; she visited the raspberry-canes that had sheltered that first love affair with the little boy in velvet, and the greenhouse where she had been wont to read her secret letters. ” Well, it was beyond dispute that these words did convey a certain quality of the Movements in general amid which Miss Miniver disported herself.
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