You must forgive the poet’s license I take. Where was the message? Where was Gerald? Until he came back, what was there for her to do? Eh bien, it made no sense to do anything. The image did not move. She was curious, and at the same time clearly resolved she must not hear it. Sensing his discomfort, she stood up and brushed lint off of the hem of her gray miniskirt. "Think not to deceive me, monster. Up to this moment, hopes had been entertained of a respite, strong representations in his favour having been made in the highest quarter; but now that his fate seemed sealed, the curiosity of the sight-seeing public to behold him was redoubled. We'll turn the tables upon 'em yet.
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