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. ” “Why couldn’t you do that at home?” “I’m working at the Imperial College. She wet some absorbent cotton with alcohol and refreshed his face and neck. David Courtlaw. “I MUST speak to you,” he said. ” It was nearly half an hour before they dared ask him the question.
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