32 The curtains and tapestries had appeared over the windows before Marina had died, growing moldy from the dampness and the oils of lavender, clove, and clary sage soaking them. “Can you spare me a moment?” he asked. The sun lingered, finally dropping beyond the dark canopy of pine trees at the edge of the park. ” He declared. A jar of pink roses upon a tiny table seemed to gain an extra delicacy of colour from the sombre curtains behind. Don’t think I can’t sympathize and understand. But I will go. One little minute with soap and water, voilà tout. It isn’t as though I haven’t done well. All your faults are just jolly modelling to make you real and solid. For all that she was of exceptional intellectual enterprise, she had never yet considered these things with unaverted eyes.
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