“I met her last night. The pale light of electricity, merging with tobacco smoke, a light blasphemer hung in a large white hall, lined with tables, and the wide, almost black leaves of piles and palm trees were drawn on snow -white walls with an almost mourning pattern. When I entered here and, squinting from the bright light, was looking for the eyes of my free place, some woman in a red and hoarse voice sang a screech chansonette onto the stage.