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. He must fight the thought continually, day in and day out. The particulars of her engagement were very clear in her memory. ‘We may have to,’ Gerald answered thoughtfully, staring at the window to one side. The stage manager reappeared presently, and made a speech. Impressionable, lonely, a deal beyond his analytical reach, the girl might let her sympathies go beyond those of the nurse. She did not remember him, but he said that he had introduced himself to her when she was visiting the butcher's family. The destroying angel hurried by, shrouded in his gloomiest apparel. I understand nothing of what you say.
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