Wood, in his Sunday habiliments and Sunday buckle. 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. He had pictured her, if indeed she had ever had the courage to do this thing, as sitting alone, convulsed with guilty fear, starting at her own shadow, a slave to constant terror. For the young, immortality must seem promising, even wonderful! The grass is always greener on the other side.
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