"Your uncle must protect you. ’ Kimble’s eyes widened. But this chap is good wine yet. Why? Love was a word of God's, and yet her father had denied it—denied it to the Book, denied it to his own flesh and blood. I can't invent; the thing won't come. “I must live, you know. ” “Well?” “Lunch! I am hungry—tragically hungry. The warm September sun fell strongly on this part of the grounds, uninterrupted by trees, its light bouncing off the glass in the mansion’s walls. "Now, tell me why they brought you here?" "I came to see you, dear mother!" answered Jack. 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.
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