That must have been some shindig last night. Velma has not returned.
I went round to her cabin and the door is shut, and there was no typically hungover response to my, ‘You in there, you old stick?’
I can only assume she is living it up in some debauched corner of the ship, scamming the crew at poker, aces loaded. Or drinking some fop under the table while flirting outrageously, if not confusingly.
I suppose I’d better leave her be – it’s generally best.