He stared at her stupidly, forgetting to guard against the tactics he had come to expect from her. 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 father, granite; the daughter, fire: Spurlock saw the one and heard the other, his amazement indescribable. She obeyed, extending her arm. I had dreamt of the olive grove beyond the courtyard I had once been fascinated 198 with as a boy. But I must—I ought—” “I MUST talk about this. See? Down we should rush in a foam—in a cloud of snow—to flight and a dream. The eggs were all right, but nobody in this part of the world had the least conception of what the coffee bean was for.
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