Geneva ended up dragging on for a good three hours. It was 
nearly ruined by one of the payers, who had clearly signed up exclusively for 
the purpose of maneuvering Ilse into bed. He turned out to be the secret SS 
colonel too; but he was so hell-bent on fucking Ilse that he spent the whole 
evening out of character. Finally Miranda lured him into the kitchen in the 
back of the dining car, shoved a foot-long butcher knife into his chest, and 
left him in the fridge. She had played this role a couple of hundred times and 
knew the location of every potentially lethal object on the train.