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. “I am glad,” she told herself, “I came. She opened her mouth and inhaled water. "One last embrace. But in the train going home her aunt reasoned it out. You don't notice the heat; but it is always there, pressing down. . She smiled mechanically at the audience, holding her violin limply, feeling the hot lights on her made-up face. I hope that James will not be long with that whisky and Apollinaris. ‘And it is me you dare accuse? It is yourself you should arrest. I haven't forgotten her previous history.
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