“See that you do, Monsieur Poirier, as I do not wish to see you go the way of your predecessor.” She answered off handedly.
“My Predecessor?” I inquired.
“Hai!” she returned, and then leaned over to whisper into my ear, “Food Poisoning.” She said in the quietest of whispers. I gasped involuntarily.
“He is still on Emergency Matrimonial Leave,” she continued, “and I expect him to remain in that status, until such time as his wife feels that he can be trusted out of her sight.”