Wood's reception of the widow, who, at that moment, was ushered into the room by Winifred, was not particularly kind and encouraging. She wrote it down. He went more easily this time. Scissors with which to cut her hair, just in case. A brief feeling of empathy with Pottiswick passed through him. “Nevertheless,” Hill said doggedly, “I am here to speak to you alone. You must not, however, accompany me, Jack. I want her to get forward, to set her among people who'll understand what to do with her. My boys buy them with beads or bolts of calico of mine. I’m a soldier, you see. . I don’t know.
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