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."
Papa Schultz dug into a pocket. "I found opportunity to get you a tourist
card from the gentleman who lent you that fez ... and I have removed his name.
What name should go on it? It can't be 'Ames' of course-but what?"
"Oh. Gwen reserved space for us. Bought tickets."
"By your right names?"
"I'm not certain."
"I do hope not. If she used Ames' and 'Novak' the best you can hope for is
to try to be first in line for no-shows. But I had better hurry to the ticket
counter and get reservations for you as 'Johnson' and-"
"Doc."
"Please? On the next shuttle if this one is booked solid."
"You can't. You make reservations for us and-phtt! You're spaced. It may
take them till tomorrow to figure it out. But they will."
"But-"
"Let's wait and see just what Gwen did. If they aren't back in five
minutes, I'll ask Mr. Kondo to dig them out."
A few minutes later a lady came in. Father Schultz bowed and said, "You're
Naomi. Or are you Yumiko? Good to see you again, anyhow."
The little thing giggled and sucked air and bowed from the waist. She
looked like a doll-fancy kimono, little silk slippers, flat white makeup, an
incredible Japanese hairdo. She answered, "Ichiban geisha girr is awr. My Ingris
are serdom."
"Gwen!" I said.
"Prease?"
"Gwen, it's wonderful! But tell us, fast, the names you used in making our
reservations
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