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The likeness was ridiculous. You have only to look resolute and proceed upon your way. ’ ‘Yolande, my maid?’ ‘You don’t need a maid,’ Martha said stoutly. 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. . His shadowy eyes revealed two things: that he was oversensitive in his extreme intelligence and that he suffered an acute insomnia. “John,” she said, “I am afraid that I am going to make you unhappy. The manager conceded that he saw, that his original diagnosis was at fault. ’ He strode to the fireplace behind the leather-topped desk and addressed his own reflection in the mirror, wagging an admonitory finger in his own face. “For instance?” She smiled.

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