She waited, fascinated.

She fancied that the beard stirred a little as though the rat had moved it.

She fancied that the rat grew and grew in size, now there were many of them, all with their little sharp beady eyes watching the corpse.

Now there were none; only the large limbs outlined beneath the spread, the waxen face, the ticking clock, the strange empty shape of his grey dressing-gown hanging upon a nail on the wall.

Where was her father gone?
She did not know, she did not care--only she trusted that she would never meet him again--never again.