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. So it was with Gosse, who had wanted to marry her. “I looked for you on the way home from The Big Apple, where were you?” Lucy smiled. All the best novels have been written by women, and yet see how men sneer at the lady novelist still! There’s only one way to get on for a woman, and that is to please men.
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