Lola Montez And The Poisoned Nom De Plume - Plot & Excerpts
It was the first night of ‘La Dansomanie’ and it was both well attended and delightfully fun. I had chosen some excellent music, I thought, and put a great deal of careful consideration into my costume. At the Paris Opéra—thanks to Eugène egging me onwards—I had revealed (probably) too much leg and too much cleavage. This time I was determined to dress in perfect taste for the most discriminating Parisian: sequins and lace in becoming shades and a decorous modesty, plus long, black lace mantilla for the full Spanish flavour. This didn’t mean, however, that the dance program itself was chaste and boring, no! I began with a cachucha, followed by a polka (I hoped no policemen would be in attendance, remembering Eugène and Dr. Koreff’s discussion of same, the previous year), then a mazurka and finishing with a final cachucha. All brand new, never-before-seen, and created by me! Afterwards, Théophile and the others were coy but somewhat encouraging. “You’ll have to wait ’til the morning, Mademoiselle Lola,”
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