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. I consider this a fortuitous omen of future friendship between our peoples."
He extended a hand. The fingernails were long and polished; the fingers glittered with jeweled rings.
The man took the hand, but was totally at a loss as to what to do with it, since the hand's owner did nothing with it himself. Perplexed, the man transferred the flaccid hand to the woman, who returned the hand to the ambassador as quickly as possible. The sweet, pungent scent of gardenia enveloped them.
"I am Dolf Baejling, aide to the undersecretary of Foreign
Affairs of Modena. This is my associate, Mary Krammes. And now, Mr. Ambassador--" the man began.
"Raoul de Beausoleil," said the ambassador lightly. "Please call me Raoul, Dolf. Everyone does."
"I ... I hardly believe that would be respectful, Mr. Ambassador," said Baejling, frowning.
"Respectful?" Raoul gave the matter brief thought. "I don't quite understand how you can come to respect me on such short acquaintance, Doll and I certainly have no respect for you. So we nfight as well be on a first-nmne basis, shouldn't we?"
Baejling frowned, insulted. Krammes laid her hand on his arm. "I don't believe he meant that quite the way it came out. We're being watched."
After an inner struggle and a surreptitious glance at the man in the dark suit, Baejling managed a grudging smile. He was about to suggest that they retrieve the ambassador's luggage when Kxammes--nudging him--indicated a small and strange-looking personage who had apparently been standing close to Raoul the entire time but was only at this moment visible, due to the settling folds of silk
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