God, we suck. From the portals of the hotel—scarcely fifty yards from the canal—one saw the blank face of the ancient city of Canton. "You must make a bold push. It’s on the horse. It did not take a mind reader to glean that she had suddenly gained the boy’s obsessive attention. "Come with me, my love, come—come," cried his mother, seizing his hand, and endeavouring to force him away. In one of the little red circles the doctor had traced that abbreviation. 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. "In wine there is truth. He forgot Annabel’s idle attempts at love-making, all the cul-de-sac gallantry of the moment.
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