"I know. But one dance an evening with him is about all I can stand. I don't really like the man."
"But why? He's a little stupid, but he seems a harmless sort of duck. In a financial deal, of course, I can see that he'd be sharp and ruthless—that's how men like him become millionaires—but he can't knife anybody on shipboard."
Tanya slashed a heavy black line across her drawing, bearing down so hard that she broke the chalk, and threw the pieces to the floor.
"He's a coward! Haven't you ever noticed the way he bullies the waiters? How he patronizes Professor Larrabee, and ignores the young Halls? And to hear him tell it, you'd think only his advice makes it possible for Captain Evans to run the ship! I'm afraid of men like that. They're cowardly and boastful, and in a crisis they are dangerous!"
"What an outburst over a fat little bald-headed man! Aren't you letting your dramatic sense run away with you?"
Laughing, Tanya picked up her chalk and resumed sketching. "Probably, but after all, I earn my living with my imagination."
"Then you aren't just a rich young woman dabbling in the theater?"
"No indeed. If you could see my bank account! No, I'm going to Almazin III to make authentic sketches of the landscape. We may do a show set in that locale, next year."
"I wish I could see some of the shows you stage."
"When we get home, I'll send you a pass."