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Chapter 13

After dinner with Brenton in the Hotel Regina restaurant we order a taxi, which takes us to the Boulevard de Clichy. We alight near the Moulin Rouge, tucked neatly between two much grander buildings, and I confess I feel like a small child beside a Christmas tree beneath which is stacked a mound of colourfully wrapped presents. We enter and my breath is almost completely taken away. It is full of people drinking, chatting, and laughing. Well-dressed ladies and their gentlemen partners in hats and suits mix with dancehall girls in a riotous wave of movement. Loud music fills the air and on stage there are dancing girls. There are no tables available so we walk to the bar and order champagne. I don’t especially like the stuff, though Brenton seems to and I don’t want to seem difficult.