All at once Melusine remembered Pottiswick, and the errand he had run. I thought that he was dead. “He has asked to see some one,” he whispered to the doctor. Pretend to weep both of you as loudly as you can. 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. ‘Will you let be?’ Instead she grasped his hand tighter.
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