<br/><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/>"My dear child," Doctor Brockman said empathically while placing his hand over hers. "I am so sorry to hear about your aunt. If there's any thing that I can do to assist her or yourself, please know that I am at your disposal. Although my practice is focused more upon diseases of the mind than the body. It is so charitable of you to postpone your education when your family is in need. I do hope that the lady feels better soon."<br/><br/>His expressions of condolence, intended to open further cracks in her armor, came almost automatically to his lips. How many times had he charmed vulnerable young women, whether it was within the intimate environs of his office or in more public settings? It was second nature to him now, though few targets in the recent past had presented such a desirable prize.<br/><br/>The culmination of the hunt was not to be, alas. Before he could answer the young lady's question a man approached their table. He seemed out of place. A fellow tourist? A clouded expression, difficult to read, despite the advantage given to him by the newcomer's focus on the lovely young woman. There was a reason that stage magicians employed attractive young assistants, after all.<br/><br/>Edmund rose to his feet and offered his hand. "Hello, sir. I fear you have the advantage of me. Are you a friend of Miss...." He realized that he had failed to learn the woman's last name. "A mutual friend? If so, please join us. The sherry is abominable and the atmosphere is poisonous, but the company is first rate. I am Doctor Edmund Brockman. Not an academic -- I work for my wages, you see. And you are?"<br/>