Samson (Chapter One, Part Six)

        Harold spoke up this time, clearing his throat, "Her name is Beatrice, my over-zealous wife of 25 years-as of tomorrow that is.  I do apologize Mr. Kincaid, I have been attempting to control my wife's enthusiasm for that same length of time and have yet to determine exactly how one controls emotion that rivales the swell of a tsunami."  Samson extended his hand to Harold and then to Beatrice and then graciously autographed the book.  Harold lined up the camera to take a photo of his wife and Samson.
        Samson seized the opportunity to once again speak to the nameless coquette, "Excuse me, miss, would you mind terribly to take a photo of the three of us together?"  Eyeing him, she reached for the camera without giving a verbal response.  As she was returning the camera to Harold, Samson pulled out Ginevra's Tour cards for the second time that day and gave one to the couple.  "The best tour is in just a couple of hours.  Even though this has been a traditional vacation for me the last eight years, I make a point to go on that particular tour to reacquaint myself with the city every year.  I'd be honored if you'd be my guests today.  Consider it my anniversary present to my biggest fan."  Beatrice swooned as Harold accepted the card as well as the invitation.  Glancing over Beatrice's shoulder, Samson was disappointed to see the woman who had captured his interest reading a small book instead of paying attention to him. 
        After chatting with the couple, all the while keeping Blue Suit in his peripheral vision, Samson realized they were coming to the last stop on the red line, in the Zattre district, quite a jaunt from his hotel on Cannaregio.  Taking what he prayed would not be his last chance to speak to her, he said, "Miss beautiful-lady-in-the-sapphire-suit, should I not have the pleasure of seeing you again, I pray you have a beautiful stay in Venice and that you not don a Carnival mask thereby denying the world the experience of your beauty.  However, I would be forever in regret if I didn't once again ask for your name."  
        Blushing, she smiled and replied, "Mr. Kincaid, I trust that I am not the only woman to have heard those words from you.  Might I suggest that you find something more useful to pray for?  Thank you again for the card.  Have a wonderful vacation in Venice."  Beatrice, having witnessed the exchange, poked Harold so hard in the stomach he doubled over, clutching his side in pain.
        Not wanting give the appearance of a stalker, Samson decided to walk away, even knowing he would have to circle back around to that exact spot in order to catch a water taxi to his hotel. 


(((Note to anyone reading:  Would you like bigger chunks of the story each time, or is this a good amount to post?)))