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She thought of Sebastian who often returned from the charnel house that the outside world had become. He was in misery; he was paying for last night's debauch. “And as for praying for faith—this sort of monologue is about as near as any one of my sort ever gets to prayer. Assessing him as harmless, she had remained friendly, albeit aloof. I went to the theatre that night. 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.
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