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"Girl on the Orient Express" February 1934, somewhere between Budapest and Istanbul. The Orient Express cuts through a frozen landscape — vast snow-covered plains, bare black trees, a leaden sky at dusk. Inside the wagon-restaurant, a woman in her early thirties sits alone at a table set for one. She's undressing a sage-green wool travel suit, and wears small hat with a dark veil pushed back, pearl earrings. Beside her, an open novel face-down on the white tablecloth. She is not reading. A brass samovar sits at the center of the table, steam rising slowly in the lamplight., (She's taking off her travel suit, showing her nipples:1.5), . Slow push-in toward her face. Her expression is unreadable — composed, perhaps too composed. Outside the frosted window, nothing but white. Close-up, her face. Style, the visual atmosphere of early BBC Agatha Christie adaptations — muted greens and creams, heavy fabrics, the particular stillness of enclosed spaces in winter. Grain, softness, no sharp edges. Mood, a woman who knows something. Or suspects something. Or is herself the thing to be suspected.