‘You were supposed to be nursing him,’ Martha grumbled, ‘and helping him convalesce. Mrs. 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. Her personal maidservant, the first she had ever had in her life, was joyful for her. “Monsieur admires the poster?” As a rule Sir John treated such advances with cold silence. For a moment she remained silent.
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