Please let me pass."Ī man with a dark mustache chastises me in a foreign tongue, then jerks his head toward the end of the line. "I'm sorry, I just need to check if my brother made it through. Unlike in the first class, passengers crowd the gangway, tightening the queue as I near. Taking the American's advice, I make tracks for the third-class entrance farther down the quay toward the bow. The river slaps a rhythm against the Titanic's hull, and my heart beats double time with the slosh. I shrink away from a pile of crates, where the rodents are making short work of a melon rind. They are certainly bold here, called by the peanut peddlers and meat pie hawkers. Something skirts over my boot and I recoil. What now? I need to be on that ship, or it could be months, maybe years, before I see Jamie again. Never could I have foreseen this complication. I figured the hardest part of this endeavor would be getting on without Mrs.
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