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. There was some one there. "Let me see him. \" They talked until midnight most nights. We are asking you questions today because Sheila and Mark McCloskey had a foster child who we assume was probably your natural mother. She held it away from her with an instinctive repulsion, born of her unconquerable antipathy to the touch of strangers. “Don’t let them know I’m here. At the present moment she was living in a world of her own creation, a carnival of brave men and fair women, characters out of the tales she had so newly read for the first time.
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