<div class="floatleft">(https://www.mediafire.com/convkey/0d06/edp7l4ylbdz97uv6g.jpg) <br/><span class="bbc_font" style="font-family: Georgia;"></span><div align="center"><strong><span class="bbc_size" style="font-size: 12pt;">Ari Warcaof </span></strong> <span class="bbc_font" style="font-family: Georgia;"> </span><div align="center"><strong> <span class="bbc_size" style="font-size: 12pt;">Businessman <br/>(of sorts) </span></strong></div></div></div><span class="bbc_size" style="font-size: 11pt;">Perhaps Jaclyn is sensing Peter’s desire to put off the important conversation.  Perhaps she wants the dinner to be a respite from all that’s gone on.  I’ve sent the two off for a period so as to lay out the plan to Jaclyn only.  She asks if it can wait.  Perhaps.<br/><br/>“In circus parlance, we have to get you back into the mouth of the lion.”  I cut my meat, looking up, “the lion of course being du Monde.  But it can wait, we just need to be separate from our guests.  We don’t want them to have dangerous knowledge.”  I reach for a roll, butter it and smile at Jaclyn. <br/></span>