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postulate. If only, if only our friend from Nice would bless us with a visit …
    All our best,
    Isabel Vandermeer
    The letter that never arrived:
    11 April 1902
    Grasse, France
    Dear Mr. and Mrs. Vandermeer,

    This may come as a surprise to you. On rather short notice, I discover I am leaving for America within about three weeks, just enough time for an exchange of information. I shall be in New York overnight, after which I head for, of all places, Miami. While in New York, I should be pleased to stop by or perhaps invite the two of you and your daughter one evening to dinner. Unfortunately, I shall not have a great deal of free time, but I would not forgive myself for being in your city and not saying bonjour.
    Yours truly,
    Charles Harcourt, Prince d'Harcourt
    Telegram sent from Nice to New York, May 2. 1902:
    mr. and mrs. vandermeer stop I leave tomorrow for new york stop arrive may 9 then on to miami may 10 through may 30 stop can only imagine that my letter of several weeks ago was lost in mail stop hope nothing is wrong stop will attempt to contact you in new york stop charles harcourt Telegram sent from New York to Nice, May 2, 1902:
    we are thrilled and devastated stop yes yes please contact us in new york then we should like to take you to miami ourselves in our private railway car stop we shall roll out red carpet stop alas louise is on a kind of grand tour stop will explain more later stop we are not sure exactly where she is but shall leave word for her at all possible contact points to come to us immediately stop again we are delighted you are coming stop harold and isabel vandermeer

Chapter 3
    Ambergris is a highly aromatic, waxy, grayish solid often found floating on the surface of the sea.
    Charles Harcourt, Prince d'Harcourt
    On the Nature and Uses of Ambergris
    Les Monographies de la Societé
    des Etudes Naturelles
    Paris, 1897
    It was damnably cold to be out on the foredeck, stark naked in the middle of the night. The sea was rolling; the wind was chilly and damp. The deck was wet, high sprays of seawater coming up regularly-over the rail. Thanks to the weather, the chairs in which Charles had intended to find cover were pulled back and tied down, not fit for sitting, barely fit for climbing and digging through in search of blankets. Worse, the general area of these roped-together chairs—under the companionway and against the bulwark—was the only area that was truly dark. A row of the ship's running lights, right below this deck, cast a dim, lurid effulgence, which was abetted further by a glow down the way. The grand saloon at midship was still bright, throwing a dazzling white haze into the night. Someone was having a late party.
    Thus, in the unnerving ambiance of wet, rocking shadows and distant music, Charles dug out three blankets and donned them more or less toga-style. When he turned to survey for possibilities of comfortable shelter, however, he was met with another unwelcome surprise: Two glowing silhouettes materialized out of the midship white-brightness—a young woman approaching rapidly with a young man in pursuit.
    Charles ducked under the companionway, then wedged himself under the steps, arms braced, in response to the ship ploughing up the side of a steep wave. The tilt of gravity took the girl's flight off-kilter. She veered straight into the railing. There she turned quickly, hanging on, laughing in the face of her pursuer, who followed her to the rail, where he dropped his hands on either side of her. The young man, a junior officer in whites, pinned her there for a moment. Charles watched, half annoyed by this sudden intrusion, half charmed by their pantomime, the eternal game played out not thirty feet from him.
    He heard the rise of sweet, sadistic feminine laughter, the teasing sound of a young girl happily torturing a young man. This carried on the wind for a moment, then was gone. The ocean rose into view over the rail—a high black swell covered with a vast reticulation