Private Yacht Adagio

Ford woke to an argument overhead. It was not the first time he’d wakened, but it was the first time he’d been this clear-headed. Prudence kept his eyelids shut as he listened to the two women’s voices.

“It’s for his own good,” purred Madame Flaubert. “His spiritual state is simply ghastly.”

“He looks ghastly.” Auntie Quesada rustled. He couldn’t tell if it was her dress or something she carried.

“The outward and visible sign of inward spiritual disgrace. Poison, if you will. It must be purged, Quesada, or that evil influence will ruin us all.”

A sniff, a sigh. Neither promised him much. He felt no pain, at the moment, but he was sure that either woman could finish him off without his being able to defend himself. And why? Even if they knew what he wanted, that should be no threat to them. Auntie Quesada had even seemed to like him and he had been enchanted by her.

He heard a click, followed by a faint hiss, then a pungent smell began to creep up his nose. A faint yelp, rebuked, reminded him of Madame Flaubert’s pet. His

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