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Just one more chance but a good one - I hoped. The small case that Graham used for jewelry and such had in it a key, plain save for the number eighty-two stamped on its side. If fate was smiling, that was a - key to a lockbox in the purser's office.
(And if fate was sneering at me today, it was a key to a lockbox in a bank somewhere in the forty-six states, a bank I would never see. But let's not borrow trouble; I have all I need
I went down one deck and aft. 'Good morning, Purser.'
'Ah, Mr Graham! A fine party, was it not?'
'It certainly was. One more like that and I'm a corpse.'
'Oh, come now, That from a man who walks through fire. You seemed to enjoy it - and I know I did. What can we do for you, sir?'
I brought out the key I had found. 'Do I have the right key? Or does this one belong to my bank? I can never remember.'
The purser took it. 'That's one of ours. Poul! Take this and get Mr Graham's box. Mr Graham, do you want to come around behind and sit at a table?'
'Yes, thank you. Uh, do you have a sack or something that would hold the contents of a box that size? I would take it back to my desk for paper work.'
'"A sac" - Mmm... I could get one from the gift shop. But - How long do you think this desk work will take you? Can you finish it by noon?'
'Oh, certainly.'
'Then take the box itself back to your stateroom. There is a rule against it but I made the rule so we can risk breaking it
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