Page 33 of French Escapade

“What are you doing?” Arkady asks.

Élodie answers. She’s got it. “He’s going to make sure she stays up. It’s safer this way. If she throws up, she won’t drown in her own vomit.”

Arkady squints and gives Élodie another distrustful look.

“My best friend had drug issues.” She shrugs as she explains. “That’s how she died. She didn’t overdose, she drowned.”

Arkady nods. The explanation is reasonable and convincing. So sincere that I wonder if it might be true.

Arkady gets closer to the young woman propped between the two suitcases. He kneels and pulls on her lips, like a horse trader would.

“Everything is in the smile,” he explains. “A mouth with rotten teeth is an absolute turnoff.”

He stands and declares her good for the service. He then acts as if he just noticed we’re still around.

“Quit stalling,” he says. “You’ve lost enough time. Get back to work.”

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