"But I can guess what it's for. To her consternation, the sound drew her great-aunt’s attention and she threw out a hand. " Which was literally the truth. Wood. The sun was setting when she carried the metal garbage can to the curb with their remains in it, where they sat underneath the stale chocolate cake that Sheila had thrown away and a pile of mildewy lettuce. ‘Not in the open street. You had better go to bed. What had urged her to wrench loose and fly was the guarding instinct of the good woman. Every day in the year you will witness such scenes. Had he found the secret door? Running to the centre, she tried to judge where the knocking came from. ’ The full story—or as much as Gerald knew—of Valade’s machinations shocked the old lady so much that she was obliged to recruit her strength with a refill from the Madeira decanter.
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