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. For ten years I've been trying to go home, but my conscience will not permit me, I hate the Orient. " "What is this to me, Sir?" said Trenchard, cutting him short. " "Mercy!" cried Mrs. Babies and females have got to keep hold of somebody or go under—anyhow, for the next few generations. ” “I don’t know. ” He met her questioning eye, and repeated, “Oh! it IS a success.
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