He growled in his throat and, thrusting his coat open, revealed his own buckled sword-belt. He nodded silently, too full for words. 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. "One of you fly to the market," returned Jonathan; "another to the river; a third to the New Mint. “There is no time for that. Ann Veronica said nothing. “If you say so, my pet. She said”—Ann Veronica shivered again—“‘I hope it won’t make you uncomfortable, my dear’—like that—‘and whatever you do, do be careful of your hair!’ I think—I judge from her manner—that she thought it was just a little indelicate of us—considering everything; but she tried to be practical and sympathetic and live down to our standards. It had, as it were, blown up at the concussion of his first step.
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