After a life of leading rackets you retire, intent on broadening horizons rising higher, in the world of upper classes, you'll reside above the masses, until the day that all is spent and you require; so a trip back to the guys to reassert, leaves you running through the hills, shot through, in dirt, double crossed, misled, betrayed, on the brink of your own grave, found and rescued, then encouraged to wear skirt; it takes some time til buds and shoots start to appear, in this world that's rather plain, somewhat austere, a deviation then side-tracks, as you curtail with vengeful axe, to return to those blessed hands, and volunteer.
Ann Sothern is great.
Ann Sothern is great.