[ Giselle slides into her own seat with the kind of grace that comes from being observed and found wanting for a very long time.

At this point, she's not terribly surprised to hear that they arrived in a similar manner--it'd almost be stranger if her new companion had intended to end up here. Certainly she wouldn't trust him. ]

Well, I didn't book a ticket, I can assure you. I don't agree with sailing. [ She picks up her glass and takes a sip. She can taste the bitter of the liquor, but feels none of the heat. ] Why, do you imagine we were doing the same thing?