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. Not a bark could be discerned on the river, except those already mentioned. She had always had a wonderful ear for phrasing, even back in the days of the viol. I am sorry that I do not know any one in London. ” The cabman, knocking with the butt end of his whip upon the window, reminded her that he was in a similar predicament. Whatever she does is minimized. " "Halloo, Nab!" vociferated Quilt. It is not a dissipated face. As she talked, the drift and significance of what she was saying shaped itself slowly to Ann Veronica’s apprehension. "Mr.
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