Oh man oh man this book. I thought I would love it, and I was actually scared to pick it up and ruin the anticipation of discovering another favorite classic read. At 617 pages, was it longer than it needed to be? Probably. Did it contain rambling passages, sometimes pages long, with too-long descriptions and no action or plot advancement? Oh you bet. But here's what else these pages contained: a number of twists and turns, some truly shocking to this modern reader who thinks she's heard of every plot device ever used; really, *really* wicked characters, who screw over their fellows in ways that just seem a lot more devious when described in 19th-century vernacular; Walter Hartright, one of the most consistently stand-up characters that exists possibly in all of literature; and a pace that stopped and started and brought my heart along for every thrill.

The mysteries and the suspense and the constant surprises kept me engaged over so many pages. What else can I say? I loved this novel; maybe not every single page, but pretty darn close.