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. Now, more than ever, it was time to start running. Annabel, tell me that you did not wish me dead. “I want to have no distractions. It was quite an unexpected pleasure to meet you and your worthy father. There was a mad musician, seemingly rapt in admiration of the notes he was extracting from a child's violin. ‘You mean that there is a rival Melusine to the one he has heard about? He does not. I think we rest here until to-morrow?” There was a brief silence. She directed the little old woman and then made her way to van D. Sheppard, whose maternal fears drew her in another direction, hurried off to the Mint. “Annabel,” she said, “you are my sister, or I would bid you take the flowers if you care for them, and leave the room.
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