Quoted By:
You feel restless. You walk a bit through the improvised social circles and exchanging smalltalk. Inevitably the conversations start with how absolutely pretty the necklace is and how nicely it fits you. Still, you do your best to entertain the guests and be entertained in turn. Stories are exchanged, and jokes are had.
You don't exactly have anything to do this evening, but you keep glancing at the large clock built into the wall of the lounge. An hour has passed since the necklace was presented, and you decide that nobody will fault you for wanting a bit of change of scenery. Some of the guests are getting quite red in the face, and more than one lady has already excused herself and retired to her cabin.
You briefly look through the observation lounge's windows. The night has now fully descended. The moon is out in full view - and what a gorgeous view it is. An ocean of clouds floating calmly below. They are not uniform, and there are voids in the cloud cover, through which you can just make out thousands of leagues of the beautiful Hadrian's sea, as far as the eye can see.
To the outside of the lounge, there is a railing, wide enough for two people, or one Giuseppe, to walk side-by-side. Nobody is outside currently, since at this hour and altitude it can get more than a bit chilly. You consider stepping out, but decide against it. The last thing you need is a sudden gust of wind or turbulence, and you didn't bring your mantle with you.
In your boredom, an absolutely preposterous thought grips your fancy. You briefly entertain the notion of just how liberating it would be if you were to change into your nightgown and take a stroll outside at the railing, ruby and all.
