"Do boats land, or do they make land? Sounds like we should be hopping off and flying to shore, just to get out of these clothes." Says the woman whose clothing had been destroyed day one she got on the boat, leaving her to make do with a gown. Which is not, by now, whatever day it might be, looking quite as fresh as it once had. Still, no wrinkles, and no stains. It's a win.

"No one's bleeding," she says, tone dry. "So there's still some excitement level we've avoided. Not that I mind." Continuing through and keeping their dancing similar, she offers a fleeting smile. "I'm content to settle for dancing with a Psycho."

In a way, it did make two of them.