The Georgia Peach Part 02
William Sherman had ensconced himself in the upstairs study. It was a room he knew well having spent many happy hours in here, drinking brandy and smoking his favourite cigars with poor old John. He was not happy now though, not in the slightest, and his river of discontent had many tributaries. Stroking his distinctive red beard, and running a hand through his unkempt hair of matching colour, Sherman was consumed by pensive thoughts. Surely, she couldn’t be guilty of what they were all now...