They seem to multiply; every time he thinks he’s pulled them all from his garter, more fall to the floor. The ermine is once again monopolizing the attention of the others with her twenty-three, over small cups of coffee. But Cireil, of all the dancers, sits near Niki and sees the paper doves flutter like snow to the ground, light against the fox’s black paws. “He likes you, eh?” the wolf smiles. “He appreciates me.” His behind is sore, but it is no worse than he has known at other times, and not so bad he cannot sit. Cireil nods. “One night already, and more on the way, yes?” “I really don’t know.” Niki has gotten most of the bills into his purse, and the smell of such concentrated money is strong, musky, and not altogether pleasant. The bills are certainly not cleaned every night. Even so, he will exchange them with M. Oller later. Henri is close to finishing the portrait, and Niki is anxious to see him.
What do You think about Green Fairy (Dangerous Spirits)?
