” “But don’t you see how I must stand to you? Don’t you see how it bars us from being lovers—You can’t—at first. It is what I have wanted, what I have meant all along. 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. They sat on a wooden bench that overlooked the less aromatic part of the lake, deeper and not as frequented by geese. She had been to San Francisco, and what I learned about the world was from her. \"I don't think so.
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