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. From long experience with both races he had acquired definitions, but none snugly applied to this girl. She was sick of herself, of her life, of everything but him; and for him all her masked and hidden being was crying out. “Well, hello there. ‘Got you!’ ‘You!’ Stunned, Melusine moved quickly away from the tell-tale bookshelf. “I thought I saw her in town to-day,” he said.
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