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... and just one of them at the boarding lock
tonight could lower my life expectancy drastically. Hmm. With just a little
effort and no grease paint I could look my right age. Papa Schultz?"
"What is your right age, dear lady?"
She glanced at me, then stood on tiptoes and whispered in Dr. Schultz's
ear. He looked surprised. "I don't believe it. And, no, it won't work. We need
something better."
Mrs. Kondo spoke quickly to her husband; he looked suddenly alert; they
exchanged some fast chatter in what had to be Japanese. He shifted to English.
"May I, please? My wife has pointed out that Mistress Gwen is the same size,
very nearly, as our daughter Naomi-and, in any case, kimonos are quite
flexible."
Gwen stopped smiling. "It's an idea-and I thank you both. But I don't look
Nipponese. My nose. My eyes. My skin."
There was some more batting around of that fast but long-winded language,
three-comered this time. Then Gwen said, "This could extend my life. So please
excuse me." She left with Mama-San.
Kondo went back into his main room-there had been lights asking for service
for several minutes; he had ignored them. I said to the good Doctor, "You have
already extended our lives, simply by enabling us to take refuge with Tiger
Kondo. But do you think we can carry this off long enough to board the shuttle?"
"I hope so. What more can I say?"
"Nothing, I guess
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