“Yes. ’ Triumph leapt in Gerald’s chest. “Pray accept my apologies. His gaze drawn, Gerald watched him dip to pick up a crushed square of white linen and a starched object that resembled a helmet. '" "'This be the verse you grave for me: Here he lies where he longed to be; Home is the sailor, home from the sea. The weather's been foul enough for the last fortnight, but I've never turned my back upon it. I do not know. Marina doted over her pregnant daughter, adorned in fine brocades, reassuring her that it was certain to be a either a baby boy or a girl of such great beauty she would eclipse them both. What you say is probably all true and necessary.
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