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There was no keeping Sheila from the truth, and it was better that anyone who lived under her roof knew it. "Why do you laugh?" she asked gravely. What of it?” There was a shout of laughter. Nothing shall induce me to act contrary to the dictates of my conscience. She swallowed hard. 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. “My dear Anna! As though I should think of depressing you with my long list of misdeeds. . "Beat down their blades," cried the Master; "no bloodshed.
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