The music rises again. Julia, leaning by the railing, eyes you over her shoulder.
Suddenly, eyeballing the card you handed him, her husband splutters -- “I say! -- Your card’s gone a blank. Do believe I shall have to get up from this comfortable chair and report this disturbing turn to the very first armed member of the crew I find -- once I’ve done with my Cuban here. I have nothing further to say to you, Sir!”
Careful not to attract any more attention to yourself in your going, casually you take in the view from the railing: beside this woman you sense you must speak with -- before any attempt to get away.
RATINGS BREAKDOWN
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