He rubbed his hand over his face. “Zuska, how did I get myself into so much trouble? I feel like a man in a foreign country. Little by little I've managed to mix myself in things that are too much for me. Trouble—I can stand trouble. But now I never know what to do next. Maybe I should have stayed in the mill. That's where I belong. And if things don't take a turn for the better soon that is where I'll end up.”
