For her mother to betray her seemed inevitable, but the betrayal seemed worse than her fate. “I’ll ruin your suit. There are sentimental and traditional deferences and reverences, I know, between father and son; but that’s just exactly what prevents the development of an easy friendship. ’ Gerald sighed. He had finally put aside The Lilac Sunbonnet, gone into his study, lit the gas fire, and written the letter that had brought these unsatisfactory relations to a head. I hate what I am. They would arrive sometime in June. Already she missed all of her fine things, her linens and leather bound books. 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. What do you think, Annabel?” “I don’t think they would,” she admitted. . ‘But you know. ” “I don’t know.
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