But the possible attitude of her father she had still to face. “More coffee, hon?” She held her hand over the cup. 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. Either we go forth together, or they shall bury me. Practically. ’ ‘In one little minute,’ she said, snapping her fingers, ‘it is over and voilà tout.
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