[color=007236]"May 20th ... It's 1775...you don't have any history of hitting your head, [i]repeatedly[/i], do you?"[/color]

The woman's gentle questioning of his sanity barely registered as William thought only about her confirmation of where he was ... or, more specifically, [i]when[/i] he was.  [i]May 20th ... 1775.  How could this be?[/i]

William nibbled at the offered bread and contemplated his situation while his hostess and host talked quietly about a man named Peter.  He didn't hear all the words, but it was obvious that this man had met with tragedy, likely in the very fighting in which William himself had incurred his injuries.  William snapped out of his deep thought in time to hear his host say, [color=007236]"Please keep an eye on my wife..." [/color]

William had misunderstood, not realizing there was yet another woman in the house and thinking his host was referring to the woman standing here in the room.  He was about to make a comical quip in return when the man said to his [i]wife[/i], [color=007236]"and you know what to do if he behaves inappropriately." [/color]

The man left, and his hostess returned to preparing their dinner, asking him [color=007236]"What is your name?"[/color]

"Bill," he said out of habit.  He chuckled quietly, then corrected, "William.  William Kutcher.  And your name?"

After she'd answered, he asked his misguided question, "And your husband.  His name?"