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treated like cattle did in recognition of the fact that there was just noth- ing else that they could do. Second of all. . . . Well, I guess that there is no second of all.
But Kathy, who was (and still is) far from being an old person, who does not wear plaid Bermudas, and who is and was quite the individual, was retiring in June 2011, and she announced in April that her heart was set on our going on a cruise in May through the Greek isles from Istan- bul to Venice with her good friend Joan, whom you met in the last chapter, and Joan’s husband, Lenny. Well, ladies and gentlemen, when I heard that announcement, I did something that I don’t believe I had ever done before: I masked my feelings entirely, asked no questions, and, within a microsecond of learning of the idea, replied with a display of unbridled enthusiasm. (Why, I might ask, had I never done that in the past?) Kathy was delighted—and, as it turns out, the trip was a complete success. The cities and the islands were beautiful, the evenings were filled with laughs and fun, the alcohol was free, the food was surprisingly good, there was a no-tipping policy, and there was plenty of time to relax, read, and use the computer to check out some really good photos that the Leica had provided.
One highlight of that cruise just cannot go unremarked: On the sec- ond night, through Joan’s connections with the ownership of the cruise line, we were invited to dine at the captain’s table, an experience that I anticipated with great nervousness and reluctance, and without the tux- edo that I had left home, thinking that I would not need it. After all, there was no way that I would be seated at the captain’s table, at which I believed tuxedos to be de rigueur. As it turns out, because of a severe headache, Joan could not make it to dinner. Thus, Kathy, Lenny, and I found ourselves seated with the captain, who was turned out in his Full Dress Uniform, complete with gold braids, but not with the ten other strange couples who I had assumed would also be invited to dine with the captain and thus would form a background into which I could melt. Rather, there was only one other couple. And the husband of that one, who was celebrating his eightieth birthday in black tie, just happened to be the Honorable Prince Dimitri Romanovich Romanov, who was not
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