"As you may remember, Chris, when I told you how Robert and I had a certain agreement so that he would house Melissa and I in his home in exchange for services rendered."
""Services", says Francois, incredulous, "What kind of services."
"Figure it out Sherlock. Just months before, I was still a teenage rent boy along the canals of old Amsterdam. So, on Robert's insistence, I returned to work, this time for him, in order to save our sorry teenage butts. I was not, nor am I now, at all proud of what I did, but we were backed into a corner, and that was the only option that seemed to be open. And you know what? When one is leasing out one's body to a stranger, especially for five weeks, it is possible to get to know them very very well. and since I had learned in the oldest profession how to gain and manipulate people's trust, you could say that I was really quite a pro."
I want to say, and you are still very good at what you do, but somehow it seems wise to hold my silence.
"I did not know any of this about you, Carl."
"Oh come on François, no need to be prissy. You've been present already when I have mentioned my professional past."
"It must have somehow slipped my attention."
"Or your inner censor was being very vigilant. Anyway, can you guess whose house our own Robert Griffin is presently living in?"
"Seriously? How did they know each other?"
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