11
Hungarian Dances – No.4 (Brahms)
Elan (thoughts)
September 16, morning
When I arrived to the bridge, Javier was already there, with sculpted torso, conquistador lips and two fingers on his hip, ready to draw an invisible sword. I reflected what these people wanted to see in me : I rested my right arm on the high back of a wood-and-leather armchair, my right leg crossed over the left one, heel up, and I feigned to suppress a deeply bored and slightly irritated sigh that I’d replace with the engaging smile taught by Donomarenko. What was this about ? Alois’reappearance ? It could even be worse. I might be suspected to be involved in his… disappearance.
The First Officer spoke first : “We may have to make the decision not to stop in Madeira.”
No less. And nothing to do with the aucti
