“Aramis?” d’Artagnan tentatively said, “You do know that this is disgusting, right?”

The man spoken to looked up, a hint of some unidentified emotion quickly crossing his face.

“My dear d’Artagnan”, he said admonishingly, “It took Bazin several hours to prepare this dish, and besides it is quite healthy.”

“Aramis”, d’Artagnan said forcefully and held up a spoon of the dish for his companion to observe. He tipped the spoon to let the contents, a slimy green in colour, fall down onto the plate again. “It is green.”

“I know”, Aramis replied and smiled sweetly. “Refreshing, is it not?”

“It is not the word that first came to my mind...” d’Artagnan mumbled but dutifully swallowed another bite of the affronting hash. He grimaced exaggeratedly and was met with an eye-roll from Aramis.

“Really, d’Artagnan”, he said, “it is not that bad, once you get used to it.”

“Why would I desire to get used to it?”

Aramis glared. “Because it is, as I believe I mentioned, healthy and besides good for your spiritual well being.”

“Rubbish.”

“No, it isn’t. As we can read in...”

D’Artagnan un-ceremoniously interrupted him before he had time to start on any longer lecture on the more obscure parts of the scriptures.

“For God’s sake, Aramis!” he cried. “It’s spinach!”

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