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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. " "The Dawn Pearl! Odd, but we white folks aren't half so poetical as the yellow or the black. How old are you?” She asked. ” She lingered over her tea, and glancing around, a sudden reflection on the change in her surroundings from the scene of her last night’s supper brought a faint, humorous smile to her lips. "Let us hope that, like her who 'loved much,' her sins are forgiven her. The intense darkness added to the terror of the storm.
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