Wedding in Venice

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"Your trouble is that you never take risks," Dulcie said.

"Who? Me?" Justine queried, her face full of innocent indignation.

Below them was a flash of sun on water as the plane from England circled Venice Airport before coming in to land.

"I'm always taking risks," Justine said firmly. "I nearly broke my neck last month, hanging over that cliff to get a picture of a gorilla."

"Oh, gorillas! Cliffs!" Dulcie dismissed all such trivial dangers. "You're a professional photographer. I know you take that sort of risk. I'm talking about people."

"You mean men," Justine said frankly. "Fine, let's talk about men. They're great fun – in their way."

"When you've got time for them, you mean," Dulcie teased.

"I'm always dashing off on assignments. I have to fit male distractions into my schedule. It's just common sense."

"You have too much common sense," Dulcie reproved her. "It's getting in the way of your life. When are you going to let your hair down and throw caution to the wind?"

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