what seemed to be a greasy piece of twine trailed over the side of the candlestick. The candle itself had been consumed by the rats; they had presented us with an object lesson, by way of showing us what they could do if they had a chance. I shuddered. I had heard of their fondness for fat. I am not thin. I thought of them picking the plumpness off my bones as I lay sleeping.
“Let’s get out of this awful house. Do, Pollie, do! The rats will eat us if we stay in it”
“Let ’em try. They’ll find us tougher morsels than you think. If a rat once has a taste of me he won’t want another, I promise you that, my dear.”
It was a frightful thing to say. It made my blood run cold to hear her. I felt absolutely convinced that if rats once started nibbling at me they would never rest content till they had had all of me that they could eat. I was sure that there was not enough that was tough about me. In that hour of trial I almost wished that there had been.
