(Art by me)
The days slipped by—and Arya, untrammeled, delighted every minute. One happening early in the odyssey, nonetheless—fountainhead her some afflictions, and later—when she defeated her primary mortification—instigated some rigorously self-examination.
She shared a table in the dining room with Dr. Hans Albert—a mastermind nuclear physicist in his eighties—who was on a holiday impelled by his doctor. The other celebrity was Fionna Genelli—an Italian movie star on post-nuptial vacation with her sixth husband.
The hindmost contoured like a dream the elucidation of a strong silent type. Although Arya was elated to share a table with them—their korero sometimes left her on tenterhooks and at other times flushing savagely. But it was obviously action-packed.
One day she was circling the greenery that moderately hazed their table—about to join her companions for lunch—when she overheard them discussing her.
"I do believe she's still a virgin!" Fionna was saying not ferociously.
"And what's the matter with that?" asked her husband.
"Oh, honey, there's nothing the matter with it. It's just so queer in this day and age. She told me the other day that she was twenty-two!"
"I find her naiveté charming," Dr. Albert interposed. Refreshing, actually.