Ruth's eyes were wet, but she saw light everywhere: the room was filled with celestial aura. Instinctively she knew—some human recollection she had inherited—that she must not disturb him in this man-agony. "Do you think I'm afeard of a beggarly thief-taker and his myrmidons? Not I. 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.
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