It was equally as beautiful but not quite so fine as the daughter's. ” She stopped buttoning her glove, and looked at him. There was the cottage she had inhabited for so many years,—in those fields she had rambled,—at that church she had prayed. He would see this sister. She made noises between weeping and laughter as she went. 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. . “Have you ever kissed a guy before?” She rolled the tissue into a ball in her lap and stared at it.
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