With much swaying of the hips they
strolled delicately along, slackening their pace when they crossed the
bright light thrown from one of the great cafes. With shoulders thrown
back, shrill and noisy laughter and many backward glances at the men who
turned to look at them, they marched about and were completely in their
element. In the shadow of night their artificially whitened faces, their
rouged lips and their darkened eyelids became as charming and suggestive
as if the inmates of a make-believe trumpery oriental bazaar had been
sent forth into the open street. Till eleven at night they sauntered
gaily along among the rudely jostling crowds, contenting themselves with
an occasional "dirty ass!" hurled after the clumsy people whose boot
heels had torn a flounce or two from their dresses. Little familiar
salutations would pass between them and the cafe waiters, and at times
they would stop and chat in front of a small table and accept of drinks,
which they consumed with much deliberation, as became people not sorry
to sit down for a bit while waiting for the theaters to empty. But as
night advanced, if they had not made one or two trips in the direction
of the Rue la Rochefoucauld, they became abject strumpets, and their
hunt for men grew more ferocious than ever.
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