And who knew if the men that Gerald had posted there would follow her to protect her somewhere else? In truth, where were these soldiers? She could not see them, although she assiduously searched the mist-shrouded square from the vantage point of the bay window in the large first floor room which had become her headquarters. Her two sticks were bare and brown, her snugged canvas drab, her brasses dull, her anchor mottled with rust. “If you come a step nearer to me,” she said, “I will smash every glass on this table. His voice now had lost its ironies. He called it "The Man Who Could Not Go Home.
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