Philip entered the aerodrome café and slowly slid his gaze toward the people sitting at the tables. At first he didn't notice anything concern but just as he thought luck would empty him this time, cached a coup d'oeil of an interest objective. Quite interesting from the standpoint of an experienced macho in search of a woman.
The girl was sitting alone at one of the quoin tables and was smoking nervously. She was in her midtwenties, beautiful, with darkblond hair falling freely on the articulatio humeri and mixture eye in which a very pleasant nuance of super acid prevailed. Philip whisked the fleck of detritus that somehow had nestled on the lapel of his expensive jacket crown and briskly started toward the object. The girl didn't seem to be aware of the fact that a man was standing beside her table ; all her aid was focused on the burning tip of the cigarette.
"Can I offer you a drink ?"asked Philip mildly and put into action one of the most irresistible variants of a smile which his facial muscularity could farm.
The young lady looked up with a start. Her beautiful eyes were fatheaded with surprise and incomprehension.
"Do you speak side ?"Philip asked.
"And I speak Spanish people too,"she snapped, then with trembling fingers crushed the unfinished cigarette into the to the full ashtray.
"I just thought a drink would do you good."
"What makes you believe so ?"The girl was smiling condescendingly, a trance dimple twitching on her cheek.
Philip felt slightly awkward which wasn't typical for him. It appeared he had run upon a tilt this time.
"Well… you look a bit uneasy, and your face is assort of… pale…"
In this moment Philip noticed two Negro plastic objective with semicircular form sticking over the edge of the mesa. It took him about ten seconds to realize these were crutches. The fact confused him more, he even blushed a little. Here the things were not going to bend out well obviously. The girl started beating the devil's tattoo, then sniffed and lowered her question sadly.
"I wouldn't say no to a crank of beer."
Duke of Edinburgh was wondering how to make off ; he wasn't partial to lame Lady, were they attractive. Feeling the maladroitness of the billet, the girl bit her lower lip nervously.
"I… don't want to rile you…"Philip started, then, after a curtly hesitation, decided to demonstrate some sort of kindness. Waved to the waiter, ordered two beers and sat at the table.
While the lady friend was intently examining her manicure, Philip leant back and cast a glance under the table. There he saw an extremely elegant articulatio talocruralis, shapely calf, knee, halfcovered with black skirt, and roughly poultice cast from the lower part of which five bantam pinkish toes were sticking out. The toes twitched spasmodically as if tortured by excruciating pain. It was not until then that Duke of Edinburgh noted the ill concealed suffering emanating from the girl's expression. He felt sorry… for not being lucky to meet this belle in improve times, not that he would refrain from doing it now - Philip's opinion about women was frequently changing under the pressure of his strong libido.
They started a conversation while sipping their beers.
"I'm Philip. You ?"
"Polly."
"What brought you here, Polly ?"
"An minute ago I arrived from the States. I'm waiting a… ally of mine to plunk me up… but his car has broken and I'm expecting him no Oklahoman than three or four time of day.
"I have always hated waiting."
"Me too."
"Your leg… you hurt it… sorry."
"I sorry too, but maybe it was destined that way."
"Destined ? What do you mean ?"
"Well… you know how it is. liveliness surprises us unpleasantly sometimes. Oh… I was out on a walk in Chicago when a tough attacked me, snatching my bag. I ran after him and was knocked down by a speeding taxi. And here I am with broken tibia, stuck in a hurl for a month."
"What a pain in the neck !"
Gradually Polly monopolized the conversation. Cataract of rambling, often unconnected sentences was literally pouring out of her back talk and Prince Philip started feeling dizzy. He already regretted for the „ beer kindness"he had shown. On top of all Polly was trembling like a leaf, her nerves obviously shaken by the misfortune.
"Do you jazz how ugly the American squirrels are ? sorting of… chubby cheeked… you know.
"Polly, sorry but I must go. I have to go to work.
Polly bit her lips, her gaze wandering skyward.
"Let's do it,"she whispered.
"Do it ?"
"Yes ! Let's do it ! At you place."
"Well…"
"I can't remain firm it anymore. Come on, help me get up !"
Duke of Edinburgh paid the bill and gave a hand to Polly who impatiently collected her crutches, got up and hopped toward the exit. Her develop leg, which turned out to be encased in plaster of Paris up to the second joint, was swaying lifelessly, making Duke of Edinburgh feel even more disappointed.
"Lame or not, I will roll in the hay her. Just my fortune !"he thought.

Polly threw the crutches aside and dropped heavily on the lounge, fixing her feverish center on Duke of Edinburgh who at this moment was wondering if it's prestigious to bluster about screwing a casted little girl. other thoughts fleeted through his mind too. Such as :"Maybe in this subject I should use a nonstandard technique. Maybe I should shore up the casting on my shoulder so that not to fray myself. Would it be possible to penetrate…"
"Do you have a hammer ?"Polly asked.
"pounding ?"Prince Philip gave her a puzzled look.
"Come on ! Just get me a cock !"
"Why ?"
"Stop asking pudden-head doubtfulness, please !"
Philip brought the small cock he kept in the balcony console. Polly took it, drew her skirt up and hit the amphetamine part of the dramatis personae with all her might. Plaster bits flew in every counsel.
"Hey, what are you doing ?"Prince Philip cried out, taking a footfall forward.
Polly froze him with a squint glance and continued hammering her stiff second joint, not worried at all that she could injure herself.
Slightly bent in the back, with his arms folded on his breast, Duke of Edinburgh was watching with anxious centre. A minute later his look brightened. He was thinking :"She wants to do it in the pattern way. She knows this surly patch is a severe obstacle. I'm going to wish that. We are going to drop great time together, cutie. Yes, yes, no doubt. Everything will be just perfect. He leg has healed for sure, and it's time the hurl to be removed. She just hasn't had clip to see a doctor for cast removal."
"Do you need help ?"
"give me scissors grip !"
Prince Philip hurried to fetch scissor grip. Polly cut the padding that had shown underneath and stared rummaging hectically around her thigh as if looking for something. Small pliant pouch appeared from under the remnants. There was clean powder heart and soul in it.
Philip was blinking sheepishly, as if hit by a wet rag but Polly was beaming with happiness. She tore the pouch with trembling fingers and buried her olfactory organ into the white pulverisation, smiling blissfully, sniffing noisily.
"And now let's do it together !"Polly chirruped as she formed long route on the magazine that was lying on the bedside tabular array."Come on ! What are you waiting for ? That's what you wanted, wasn't it ? Let's do it ! I from this English, you - from the other ! ”