To read a book which begins ‘The first sound in the morning was the clumping of the mill-girls’ clogs down the cobbled street’ and then goes on to complain about unemptied chamber pots, is to evoke a vanished world.
To read a book which begins ‘The first sound in the morning was the clumping of the mill-girls’ clogs down the cobbled street’ and then goes on to complain about unemptied chamber pots, is to evoke a vanished world.
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