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. ‘Mad as hatters!’ ‘It is you who is mad,’ mademoiselle told him crossly. Anna felt that her words had become charged with a fuller and more subtle meaning than any which she had intended to impart. But once he had steered the lady down the hall and along a passage to a window seat at the end, he abandoned the subject of society.
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