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. Listen to me, Winifred. The open windows were above them now and, unless the intruder were to lean out, they could not possibly be seen. It seemed to encapsulate the mosquito like a little piece of moonlight, it was talismanic to her.
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