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Message: <blockquote data-quote="deadestdai" data-source="post: 1750060" data-attributes="member: 13678">Ulysees supped at his tea and wiped the drips from his moustaches that inevitably soaked in regardless of how much wax he tried to use. Gravely he rang for his punkawallah (s/p?)* to clear away his breakfast dishes stiffly, but carefully rising to his room to dress. What an awful predicament that Jackson fellow got himself into! And to think of all the trouble it took to save him from those frightful savages! Jackson had turned out to be a rather agreeable chap, all in all. Not like most colonials he had met in his travels. Yanks, rather boorish and loud - lacking in class, really. Though it was hardly surpising they had turned out that way, such new money and so far from true "civilisation".Ulysees chided himself silently regarding his opinions. These very same "uncivilised" peoples had managed to patch up his leg that the best Harley Street doctors had said was beyond repair..... Shaking his head he tied his laces and supressing a slight groan, bent to rub of a mark from his shoe. At once he headed for the lobby and "ordered" (A habit from his navy days.) one of the bell-hops to arrange a taxi to Prospero House. Perhaps he would be able to find details as to how he could pay his repects at Jackson Elias' funeral there?</blockquote>