To recreate the era, I deliberately tried to avoid creating a thinly disguised bodice ripper where an “empowered” woman mouthed off to prospective suitors in jerkins and tights, in other words, a typical romance novel. ” “I wonder,” he said, a trifle irrelevantly, “what the future has in store for you. “You ask me to be engaged to you, Mr. She had seen for herself right up in the bedroom window with her binoculars when Joanie was gone shopping one night, right with her own eyes. Mr. But death is better for them, since they’re orphans now!” He screamed. I love him!" She was weak and dizzy: from horror as much as from physical exertion.
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