What you want to do is to imagine every woman a Becky Sharp and every man a Rawdon Crawley. "Yes," replied Jack. And this damning evidence―’ with a brusque gesture at the portrait ‘―must also be destroyed. ‘Hilary!’ The captain appeared, alert at the note in his major’s voice as Gerald had known he would be. Well, you shall know. The house was full of aunts, uncles, and cousins meandering about, stuffed until their seams and zippers were bursting. She stole a few glances at John as she stood and played the pieces. “You don’t propose, do you,” she said quietly, “that I should take this man for my husband?” “You can drive him away,” Annabel cried.
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