Oh God! pardon me. 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. Her sister’s words were true. From this peaceful scene Jack's eye fell upon Jonathan, who, seated upon the stile, under the shade of an elder tree, was evidently watching him. He looked exactly as she had dreamed him, handsome, rigidly dressed in a black suit, his hair still half gray, his eyes green and flashing like a cat’s. "You are, Sir," thundered Jonathan; "and, unless you find him, you shan't hold your place a week. E. He flipped the television on.
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