E. 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. “Cheveney!” she repeated. That night, she hunted the alleyways of the old town. Your maid has twenty minutes to pack your dressing case for one night, and you have the same time to change into a travelling dress. Produce them!" "Never!" replied Kneebone. That window there…. She’s naïve, and yet uncannily shrewd at times, and you daren’t rely on anything she says. Jerking forward, she jabbed backwards.
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