In her usual style, she interviewed him for his life and was pleased that he liked nothing more than to talk about himself. You seemed, he thought, to have some grievance which you would not explain and which he thought must arise from a misunderstanding. "Do not despair, my sweet soul," said Wood, in a soothing tone. “Exactly. “Turn me. . Here was a poor half-naked creature, with a straw crown on his head, and a wooden sceptre in his hand, seated on the ground with all the dignity of a monarch on his throne. ‘Why did you kiss me?’ ‘I don’t know,’ Gerald admitted. But her temper almost flared again when the sergeant spoke.
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