<div class="floatleft">(https://46.media.tumblr.com/84400782eb9cadbbb1a45de7e5d4a923/tumblr_mx2kuiRV9E1sr1ki0o1_500.gif)</div><hr/><span class="bbc_size" style="font-size: 18pt;"><strong>EDMUND BROCKMAN, MD | 34 | DOCTOR OF MEDICINE (PSYCHIATRY) </strong></span><hr/><br/><hr/><br/>She was a rare and petite beauty. He imagined he could feel her warmth through his overcoat, seeping into his elbow. He knew he could feel the heat from the stares of the crowd. Men envying him his prize, women wondering what treasures and talents he must possess to win the attention of such a jewel. He swelled with pride and arousal, walking erect as if the weight of the suitcases were nothing.<br/><br/>A public house on the right boasted a few small tables outside, perhaps to enable visitors from out of town to enjoy the full London Smog experience while quaffing their undistinguished English ales. He wanted to take Juliet to secluded booth in the back of the pub -- nay, a secluded room -- but knew that he had only a short time before the purpose of his visit would intrude on this passing fantasy. "Two sherries," he barked to the waiter as he pulled out a chair for Juliet and then took one for himself.<br/><br/>"Edmund, if you please," taking no umbrage at having the repeat the introduction. Who could fault such a creature for anything? "I am from New York City. I have a practice there, but I won't bore you with the details." He began chatting about the ocean crossing -- the laughable tourists, some of them staggered by their first transoceanic voyage, others equally foolish in their faux jadedness. In truth the storms that she spoke of had worried him at the time. He was not a man with much experience of the sea, and the dark clouds and surging waves had seemed to him, at times, more than equal to the stout German ship. Perhaps she had lost her mettle when she had been bound with an English flag. In the end nature had bowed once again before the ingenuity of Man and the ship had passed through unscathed, with only half a dozen or so crew members of little interest succumbing to the forces of the storm. One or two passengers as well, if he had recalled the gossip correctly.<br/><br/>Soon his sherry was empty. He began looking for the waiter to call for another, but the miserable toad was nowhere to be found.<br/><br/>"So what brings you to England, dear lady? And more importantly, do you have plans for the New Year's turn this evening? It would not do to be alone as the clock strikes midnight."