The MillstoneHMH, 15 oct 1998 - 192 páginas The story of an upper-middle-class unwed mother in 1960s London, from a novelist who is “often as meticulous as Jane Austen and as deadly as Evelyn Waugh” (Los Angeles Times). In a newly swinging London, Rosamund Stacey indulges in a premarital sexual encounter—and soon thereafter finds herself pregnant. Despite her fierce independence and academic brilliance, Rosamund is in fact naïve and unworldly, and the choices before her are terrifying. But in the perfection and helplessness of her baby she finds an unconditional love she has never known before—and as she navigates a situation still considered scandalous in her circles, she may discover that motherhood and independence need not be mutually exclusive. From “one of Britain’s most dazzling writers,” the award-winning author of The Dark Flood Rises, The Millstone captures both a moment in history when women’s lives were changing dramatically and the timeless truths of the female experience (The New York Times Book Review). |
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... our wedding: she did not smile at them, but took them for what they were, and when he had finished she picked up the register and said: "Oh, well, I'll have to go and ask." Then she disappeared through a door at the back of 8.
... our wedding: she did not smile at them, but took them for what they were, and when he had finished she picked up the register and said: "Oh, well, I'll have to go and ask." Then she disappeared through a door at the back of 8.
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... finish: in fact, one of my most painful indignations in those painful months was the sheer unlikelihood of it all. It wasn't, after all, as though I had asked for it: I had asked for it as little as anyone who had ever got it. One reads ...
... finish: in fact, one of my most painful indignations in those painful months was the sheer unlikelihood of it all. It wasn't, after all, as though I had asked for it: I had asked for it as little as anyone who had ever got it. One reads ...
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... finish my drink, and then I got up to go. I cannot stand sitting in pubs by myself. At the doorway I met George. "My goodness me," he said, "all alone tonight, are you?" "Just walked out," I said. "Joe just walked out." "I know," he ...
... finish my drink, and then I got up to go. I cannot stand sitting in pubs by myself. At the doorway I met George. "My goodness me," he said, "all alone tonight, are you?" "Just walked out," I said. "Joe just walked out." "I know," he ...
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... each other in an unpleasantly revealing social light which would finish off our distant pleasantries forever. To escape this sense of unease, I started to tell him about my parents while the kettle boiled and why they had let me have the ...
... each other in an unpleasantly revealing social light which would finish off our distant pleasantries forever. To escape this sense of unease, I started to tell him about my parents while the kettle boiled and why they had let me have the ...
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afraid amazed anyway asked baby Bayswater Road Beatrice began bottle British Museum child cold comfort course daugh door drink expected eyes face fact feel felt finished flat forever friends George girl gone hair Hamish hand Harley Street heard hospital hour Joe Hurt kind knew listened live looked Lydia Marylebone Road mean midwife mind minutes months mothers natural childbirth never nice Nicholas and Alexandra night nurse Octavia Octavia Hill once Oxford Circus pain parents penicillin perhaps pethidine poor Clare Portland Place Protheroe realized remember ring Roger Rosamund round seemed Sister sitting room sleeping smiled Stacey started stay stood suppose sure talk tell there's things thought tion told took tried turned uncon upset Viyella waiting walked watched week whole Wigmore Street wished woman wondered worry