Both McCloskeys disappeared on the same night, without a single trace. Stanley regarded him through his glasses with something approaching animosity. 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. He pictured himself visiting the girl in this shabby little home of her aunt’s—she had told him that it was shabby—and he recalled that delicious little smile with which she would surely greet him, a smile which seemed to be a matter of the eyes as well as the lips. That'll tune me up. The knight mechanically complied with his request. ’ ‘Dieu du ciel! But this is catastrophe. Will you read to me? I am tired; and the sound of your voice makes me drowsy.
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