"Zkurvysyn!" Vaclav cursed. "She's the spitting image of the Greek's thrall!"
"Easy, Vaclav," Bohumil cautioned. "Perhaps a more subtle approach can work here." The Slovakian an eased his way over to where Rita was standing. "Beg your pardon, Madame, but my friend and I are new in town and we're looking for a friend of ours. Could you help us out?"
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