’ Melusine’s eyes misted. 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. ‘That’s why I never told Joan Ibstock that you were still with me when I wrote. She was aware of people—her aunt, her father, her fellow-students, friends, and neighbors— moving about outside this glowing secret, very much as an actor is aware of the dim audience beyond the barrier of the footlights. . It was his tall stance and his pale skin that drew him out of the crowd. Through all this flutter of novelty there came and went a solicitous, preoccupied, almost depressed figure.
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