The breed seemed pleased at the words of praise and the scowl lightened, but did not entirely vanish.
“Business seems kind of quiet, doesn’t it?” Bob ventured as he passed his plate for a second piece of pie.
“Beesiness heem rotten,” Jacques scowled.
“Is it because your place is so far north?”
“Non. She no too far away.”
Bob was feeling his way carefully to avoid arousing the breed’s suspicion.
“Fishing been good all the time?”
“Oui.”
“You’ve got a fine place here.”
“Oui.”