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. By the time I had recovered myself she had gone. It was if the world had blinked out for a moment. It was cramped even at the end of the passage. On that night,—that fatal night,—Winifred crushed all the hopes that were rising in my heart. I've got to know why. She told us that it was a disguise. ” He turned to the waiter, who held a wine-card. It would send business elsewhere; and the hotel business in Canton was never so prosperous that one could afford to lose a single guest. "No such thing," rejoined the jailer; "he's coming on business.
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