Saturday, October the 2nd, 2004
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“In the midst of this circle of dandies are three overdressed women, one might say three weird visions, robed in garments of pale and indefinable colours, embroidered with golden monsters; their great coiffures are arranged with fantastic art, stuck full of pins and flowers. Two are seated with their backs turned to me: one is holding the guitar, the other singing with that soft, pretty voice… the third girl is on her feet, dancing before this areopagus of idiots, with their lanky locks and pot-hats. What a shock when she turns round! She wears over her face the horribly grinning, death-like mask of a spectre or a vampire.” — Pierre Loti, Madame Chysantheme