"All men are the same - but we can't do without them, can we, doudou?"
"Monsieur Trousseau works for me."
"I must say Alphonse has done well for himself. A lovely white lady."
"Monsieur Trousseau works for me," Anne Marie repeated coldly, "We're not related."
"A pretty, white wife. And a lot younger than him, I should say. Lovely children, pretty métis, I suppose. And you being white, I suppose he's reformed his ways." A big wink of the watery eye, "I hope so for your sake."
"I'm Madame Laveaud, juge d'instruction. Monsieur Trousseau's my greffier. Whether he's married or not, I'm afraid I can't tell you. But rest assured, Madame, that he and I are in no way related. He works for me - and it's precisely because I'm making enquiries into the death of the unfortunate girl who was murdered that I am here."
"And to drink, madame?"
"I beg your pardon."
"Two cheese sandwiches. And to drink? Sunkist, Krony, Coca, Kroenenburg, Heineken, Pepsi, fresh passion-fruit, cane juice, grape fruit, sweetsop, soursop - made this morning. What would you like to drink, doudou?" Another conspiratorial wink, "Or should I call you Madame Trousseau."