Antoine led the ladies into a small room, furnished with dark wood chairs and a small table strewn with papers and the occasional candle stub. The walls were paneled, and Marguerite could smell licorice and smoke coming from the far corner of the room.
“Please pardon the mess, ladies. It has been quite a busy time here,” Antoine said. He shuffled about the floor, tapping his foot every few steps.
“Busy times tend to bring news,” Marguerite said. “And a little more to your left, my dear.”
Antoine stepped to his left and tapped. The wood clicked and the adjacent wall panels in the corner of the room opened.
“Ah! You know your den well. Ladies, down these stairs lies the finest range of vices you will find in this city. And the news, Marguerite – well, let me say that our crowds have turned this den into a veritable circus. Even now we have a pair of fine, twin acrobats turning all kinds of tricks over each other.”
Marguerite raised an eyebrow. Cirque de la Vapeur had its share of acrobats, but they were not twins. By now Antoine had led the ladies through the panel doors, which closed behind them, and down a dimly lit spiral staircase. Music drifted from the den, which still lay hidden behind a velvet curtain.
“Really? Antoine you make it sound as though some strangers are in town. What of your news?”
“There are, in fact, two circuses in town. Cirque de la Vapeur arrived last week, and I believe opened their show tonight. Then, just this afternoon, Cirque de la Hirondelle appeared.”
Antoine stopped and turned to face the ladies, standing between them and the curtain. He looked at Marguerite, then at her companions.
“Your cloaks, Mademoiselles?”
Marguerite smiled. As she removed her cloak, a rosette glimmered at her throat. Antoine’s eyes widened at the emblem of Cirque de la Vapeur, and he studied Marie and Alexandra closer as he took their cloaks and opened the curtain.
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