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. I want to be your knight, your servant, your protector, your—I dare scarcely write the word—your husband. Yet her embarrassment was only a passing thing. But he had now lost the precise spot; and thinking he had examined the drain, turned his attention to another quarter.
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