Me: Who is it in that photo?
Nell: Cousin Belle.
Me: She looks awfully like you, only meaner.
Nell: Yes. Doesn’t she just?
Me: It’s not a given. I don’t look like my cousins at all.
Nell: I despair of you sometimes.
Me: Why?
Nell: Of course, it’s me.
Me: But you look bad and dangerous and you’re wearing huge sunglasses.
Nell: Yes. I’m showing attitude.
Me: Nothing new there. Hang on. You’re looking mean on purpose, aren’t you?
Nell: Calm down.
Me: You can’t go, Nell.
Nell: I feel I have to put myself forward. This is a dangerous mission. I cannot put anyone else at risk.
Me: I’m sorry but it’s not happening.
Nell: Charlie doesn’t want me to go either. But you know what I’m like when I’ve made my mind up.
Me: Yes.
Nell: Unfortunately, someone else has offered to go undercover.
Me: Who?
Nell: Gladys.
Me: I suppose she is mad, bad and dangerous to know.
Nell: Yes, like Lord Byron.
Me: What a brave little Pomeranian.
Nell: She has one condition, though.
Me: What?
Nell: Alejandro has to accompany her.
Me: Isn’t he too big and fluffy? And he’s still struggling with his English.
Nell: Alejandro was shorn recently and fluffiness can be deceptive as we know from Poppy.
Me: True.
Nell: Alejandro’s English is coming along well apparently and his Spanish accent adds a touch of mystery.
Me: I’ve never really seen Alejandro as mysterious.
Nell: Well, he is now.
Me: Will he wear his Aztec crown?
Nell: Who knows? They are at the Big House with The Cat discussing bad outfits.
Me: Like nylon shirts and polyester slacks?
Nell: No, like leather jackets and big boots. Anyway, the decision hasn’t been made yet. It may be me.
Me: I hope not. Sorry.
