” “I thought every one knew. In fact, one of them was downright sceptical. 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. Was he your natural father? Did you know him?” “No, I didn’t. “You were there, were you?” He laughed a little impatiently. “Dear me!” he said. Or at least he did the day before yesterday. “Ferringhall, were you or were you not dining last night at a certain restaurant in the Boulevard des Italiennes with—la petite Pellissier?” Now indeed Sir John was moved.
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