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Old November 30th 04, 11:37 PM
Elizabeth
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An older gentlecat, nattily attired in grey-striped suit and plain
grey gloves, strolls through the Gare de l'Est, purring quietly to
himself. If anyone were close enough to hear, they might catch a
strain of "Memory". But the only beings nearby are two porter-cats
pushing an old-fashioned travelling trunk (the kind like a leather
mini-armoire), and they are too occupied with their burden.

Pierre, the head conductor-cat, steps out from the train. "M.
Fitz-Tomas! It has been too long, monsieur! Welcome aboard!"

"Pierre, mon vieux, I am delighted to be with you again. Where have
you put me this trip?"

"You are in Cabin Huit in car 319. You see, I remember your
preferences! Shall you require anything now?"

"No, thank you, Pierre. If you would be good enough to stow my
luggage," - with a wave at the trunk - "I believe I shall indulge in
the bar car for a bit before departure."

"But of course, monsieur, of course." Pierre waves to the
porter-cats, who push the trunk closer. The gentlecat stops them
briefly and slips a few tunas into their hands, before strolling down
the train to the bar car and mounting the steps. A bit of "The Way We
Were" could have been heard floating on the air, were it not for the
noise of the train...

-- Montgomery Gawain FitzThomas, DOC