’ The lady’s face came round, a puzzled frown on her brow. He seemed to be about to move toward her. “God in Heaven, Annabel!” he cried. 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. Black blood and white bone flew into the corners of the crypt, slathering the dead faces of the corpses left piled in the corner. A sob was strangled in her throat.
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