Happy Bastille Day!

“Doctor, we are going to be stopping at the island of St. Martin soon, and there’s something I want you to do there.”
Alcott looked at him sharply. “That is a French island, is it not?”
“It was. French and Dutch. At one time a friendly port for Americans. Now, well, it’s still friendly, we just have to be more careful because the Royal Navy has a presence there as well.”
“Is there someone on the island who’s ill?”
“No, not that I know of.” He took a deep breath. This was more difficult than he expected it would be.
“There is a lady there I want you to visit. A Mrs. Cornelia Olifiers. You will like her,” he added quickly. “She’s friendly, and outgoing, and…friendly.”
Alcott was watching him with a strange expression on his face.
“And I am visiting Mrs. Olifiers because…?”
In for a penny, in for a pound. Or in this case, a fee to be paid in good American dollars.
“Madame Cornelia operates an establishment where a young man like you can meet ladies and spend the evening with them.”
Dr. Alcott was young, but he was not stupid. “You are taking me to a brothel?”
“Not so loud, or they’ll all want to go!”

--Sea Change

Ah, the French! Friends to America and providing rest and relaxation to Americans abroad for a long, long time. Vive la France!


Comments

Popular posts from this blog

Do you have permission to waltz?

It's Tu B'Av! Party like it's 5783, or Celebrating the Jewish Day of Romance

Happy #LaborDay!