Not, perhaps, Cary's happiest invention, considering the much more convincing Sara Munday, etc., yet one can't help but love a little this foolish girl, in love herself with such a thorough shit. As too often seems the case in fiction, I suspect the reader is meant to find the shit, and such shits in general, more charming than I did. Still, Cary's quite accomplished storytelling, smooth and amusing prose, and light moral touch, as always, was a pleasure, just not in aid of much here.
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