But are we any more free?” “Well?” “I mean we’ve long strings to tether us, but we are bound all the same. It was a perfect windless spring day, a Sunday. He looked at Hilary and nodded. That might happen on her birthday—in August. 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. Not a bark could be discerned on the river, except those already mentioned. He felt himself collapse heavily onto her naked body, still inside her. . She reflected before answering. "I thought you were asleep. ” “You shall not need either,” Brendon said grimly.
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