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. " "You look pretty fit. In her little sitting-room she turned on the electric light and looked around half fearfully. And I suppose it is too much to expect that any entirely English young lady would be prepared to tolerate me for the remainder of my life. Bribble’s rendering of the service —he had the sort of voice that brings out things—and was still teeming with ideas about it when finally a wild outburst from the organ made it clear that, whatever snivelling there might be down in the chancel, that excellent wind instrument was, in its Mendelssohnian way, as glad as ever it could be. 58 \"Why will you not touch me?\" She cried out, sitting up, her head in her hands. You are not playing to-night, are you?” “Not to-night,” she answered. ’ ‘Indeed? Interesting.
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