Play@YSDC

Elena smiles back and selects the steak.

Russian,[color=darkred]"He was just talking about a dream he had,"[/color] she says. [color=darkred]"He saw a ruby ring, or he thought it was ruby, blow the sandman's dust into the face of one of their men."[/color] She translates the rest of the English conversation for him.

Cecil looks forward to his usual dish of Entrecote Steak Connaught but he notices the German is still blocking the aisle, making it difficult for the waiters to serve, He taps the German on the back, "I say old chap, I do hope you you're not planning to dither there too long; there simply isn't room you know."

Wolfgang listens attentively to Elena's translation, his eyebrow knit together.

Russian,[color=#0000BF]That sounds like quite the dream, looks like someone is very anxious about this train ride or has read to much spy novels. Although the dream diary does make it sound like more of an opium episode than the product of high-strung nerves.[/color]

"I saw a man earlier that I thought I recognised," says Mrs. Roby in a nonchalant way. "Isn't it funny the strange people you meet on trains? I never thought I'd see him again. Kieran Mclaugherty. I must say he's still quite the looker." She flashes her husband a friendly smile in response to his quirked eyebrow. "I'm only teasing, Mr. Roby. You do know I would never stray. At least I hope you do. He was heading into one compartment or another and I thought I heard another Irish voice. It would be nice to speak to some fellow countrymen, though Mr. Mclaugherty wouldn't like you very much at all, I'm afraid. He is very much the firebrand. I do wonder as to his friend...."
Mr. Roby shakes his head and clucks his tongue. "I really do hope I haven't booked such a romantic train ride only to have to share it with an old flame of yours. I wouldn't like to have to get into fisticuffs on the roof of this train. Can you imagine it? I doubt I could hold my own against a firebrand, however. Would it help, do you think, if I stated that I were not a Catholic but something else altogether?"
"It may help very little," says Mrs. Roby. "I doubt it would affect his thinking very much. He thinks of the British the same way that the Germans think of the Jews although I'm sure he isn't as brutal as all that. I hope so anyway. He used to live only a few streets across from this. This was a very long time ago, you understand. Hmm, it might not have been him. He didn't appear to recognise me and a few decades can do wonders for blurring one's memories."

The Dining Car is an illustrious affair of white tablecloths, gleaming silverware, crystal wine glasses and friendly conversations in Italian, French, English and Russian with a touch of German here and there. The four-course dinner is a lavish affair judging from the various entrees and soups that have been eaten and are currently being swept aside by the polite waitors. The curtains are tied back to reveal the French countryside as you sit at your table. There is a small partition that divides the smoking from the non-smoking halves of the train. A red curtain at the far end of the car leads onward to the Kitchen half of the Dining Car. Due to the surprisingly small number of bookings for this trip diners have been given the option of eating during either the First or the Second Service, as they please.
Currently the Dining Car has gone from being a sprawling mass of individuals to a series of clusters as people start trying to get to know each other within the two sections of the Dining Car. The corridor is wider than the Sleeping Car corridor though not by much and the waitors do what they can to move past Dr. Schiller with the third course which includes a choice of Delice de Sole Victoria, Roast Quail and Garden Salad, Coeur de Filet George VI, Entrecote Steak Connaught, and Broiled Bluefish Baron Brisse. Mm... It smells so good. Finally the Parisian cityscape is replaced by French countryside as the train continues to rattle along its merry way. Soon enough the desserts will be served and it will be time to mingle in the Smoking (Bar) Car, converse within the Lounge Car or simple retire to one's compartment to watch the world pass by.

Elena laughs merrily.

Russian,[color=darkred]"I wouldn't be so quick to dismiss it,"[/color] she says. [color=darkred]"You never know who could be a spy."[/color]

Wolfgang cocks an amused eyebrow as he cuts into his steak. With a lowered voice he playfully asks:

Russian,[color=#0000BF]What do you mean, [b]Elena[/b]? The guy behind me is listening in on us because he's a spy and the Englishman is actually part of some international police looking for people illicitly using opium on trains? How exciting![/color]

He smiles as he savours the steak,

Russian,[color=#0000BF]Besides, if they're spies, I'd love to get them a drink and provide them with some company. It must be a terribly lonely business, spying. Never being able to tell people who you really are, what you really feel...[/color]

Elena begins to dig in to her steak too.

Russian,[color=darkred]"Yes, it would have to be incredibly lonely,"[/color] she says. [color=darkred]"Imagine having to pretend to be something else all the time, never letting your guard down, lying to people you care about for their own protection. Not a career for the faint of heart. You know, there was a French couple in the café on the platform talking about spies. When the American cowboy entered, the woman thought that [i]he[/i] was a spy. Which is ridiculous, considering his outlandish getup seems designed to draw attention."[/color]

Russian,[color=#0000BF] Sometimes the best spies hide right under your nose. Maybe that was what she was thinking.[/color]

He puts down his cutlery and wipes his mouth and smiles.

Russian,[color=#0000BF]That steak was excellent. I think I'd rather agree with you than with your French woman, Elena. The Americans aren't exactly known for their double thinking talents, least of all Texan cowboys.[/color]

Russian,[color=darkred]"That possibility had crossed my mind too,"[/color] says [b]Elena[/b], [color=darkred]"but it went right out the other side. The best spies are the ones you'd never suspect. You could be talking to them for hours and never know it."[/color]

Elena savors the steak, eating more sedately so she can enjoy every bite.

Russian,[color=darkred]"Yes, the steak is excellent,"[/color] she says. [color=darkred]"The wine too. The Orient Express always serves the best."[/color]

Russian,[color=#0000BF]I agree. On both counts.[/color]

He washes down the last of his steak with the exquisite wine.

Russian,[color=#0000BF]May I be so bold as to inquire after your plans after dinner, [b]Elena[/b]?[/color]

Russian,[color=darkred]"I was planning to socailize in the Bar Car,"[/color] says [b]Elena[/b]. [color=darkred]"I'd be happy if you join me."[/color]

Once the main meals have been served and consumed, the option for desserts include Corbeille de Fruits, Compote de Fruits, Melon Ice Cream Trocadero, or Vanilla Ice Cream Snowball With Shredded Strawberry Sauce On Illuminated Ice Socle.

Elena finishes her steak and orders the Vanilla Ice Cream Snowball.

Wolfgang orders the fruit corbeille.

Russian,[color=#0000BF]Few things would make me happier.[/color]

He lowers his voice.

Russian whispers,[color=#0000BF]I for one would like to know what our friend behind me is about.[/color]

Cecil shrugs as the German stiffly ignores him and orders a Mosel to drink with dessert. As he tucks into his fruit compote he remembers what it was that the dream story reminded him of. He looks hard at Amadi and then says simply, "we've got a few things to discuss after dinner."

"I didn't realise you were so superstitious," mutters Amadi with a teasing smile and a longing look at the wine glass. "But fine, why not? I have a strange compulsion to return to your compartment to discuss matters anyhow." He lifts his gaze off the wine glass, then leans back in his chair. "There aren't nearly as many pretty fillies as I had hoped. That Russian lady over there is quite the doll and there was another I saw who didn't come to dinner but every other woman I've seen seems married. It seems we're very unlucky. There's nothing like conversing with a pretty lady to draw the eye." He slides a glance at his father after his words to see how the man takes it but Farooqi seems to steadfastly ignore the rather crass comment despite his obvious discomfort with it.
Schiller's eyes seem somewhat fixed. Not glazed, perhaps, but fixed. It's as though his mind were trained elsewhere, on some far away point.

Elena nods, a knowing look in her eye.

Russian,[color=darkred]"It seems that someone else is interested in me as well,"[/color] she says. [color=darkred]"I'll have no shortage of company."[/color]

Wolfgang only half-understood what Amadi was saying, but Elena's prompting made more than enough clear. He laughed as he confidently reclined in his chair.

Wolfgang's English is rather dodgy,[dice]0[/dice]

Russian,[color=#0000BF]I would be surprised if the opposite were true, [b]Elena[/b]. Young wolves are always ahunting, especially if the most beautiful woman on this train appears to be guarded by nothing more than an old lion. I may have the ruffle my manes before too long.[/color]

He raises his hand before you can object.

Russian,[color=#0000BF]I wouldn't want those youngster to hurt their ego's when they find their prey has sharper fangs than they do.[/color]

Elena laughs in delight, raising an eyebrow.

Russian,[color=darkred]"A keen observation,"[/color] she says. [color=darkred]"It's kind of you to say so, but I doubt I'm the [i]most[/i] beautiful woman on the train. That Frenchwoman I saw at the station is rather attractive, and so is the tired-looking woman who looked to be from Eastern Europe. My best years are behind me, but I've still got some good ones left."[/color]