“Mr. “Heavens!” exclaimed Ann Veronica, with extraordinary passion. "'Odd's! bodikins!" cried Jack, rubbing his cheek, "I'm in luck to-day. I just thought perhaps a different boy was in store for you. 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. He returned figuratively to his bed—the bed he had made for himself and in which he must for ever lie. Jack had thus been six hours in accomplishing his arduous task. "You are alone?" said one of the spinsters—Prudence Jedson. “What’s that for?” He said. ‘Laisse-moi,’ she threw at him, her brief attack of sobs already ended, although the trace of tears on her cheeks bore witness to its sincerity.
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