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. “Bit thick on the old man, isn’t it?” said Roddy, who had developed a bluff, straightforward style in the motor shop. And then the fetters, which were still upon his legs:—how was he to get rid of them? Tired and dispirited, he still wandered on. " "Ship her back to her father"—sagely. There was more shouting.
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