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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. Annabel, I was lying. ’ ‘Nonsense, it’ll give Pottiswick something genuine to complain about,’ said Gerald cheerfully, moving to the edge of the trees. No other man should touch her; she was Hoddy's, body and soul, in this life and after. Hang the wench! Roding was right. A deep dread calm, like that which precedes a thunderstorm, now prevailed amongst the assemblage. Their journey had made them indolent, the afternoon was warm, and it seemed impossible to breathe a sweeter air.
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