You could walk in alleys bright with electric light and seat
yourself where you pleased to hear the music. It would be charming.
Where would you like to go?"

Duroy did not know what to reply; finally he said: "I have never
been to the Folies Bergeres. I should like to go there."

His companion exclaimed: "The Folies Bergeres! Very well!"

They turned and walked toward the Faubourg Montmartre. The
brilliantly illuminated building loomed up before them. Forestier
entered, Duroy stopped him. "We forgot to pass through the gate."

The other replied in a consequential tone: "I never pay," and
approached the box-office.

"Have you a good box?"

"Certainly, M. Forestier."

He took the ticket handed him, pushed open the door, and they were
within the hall. A cloud of tobacco smoke almost hid the stage and
the opposite side of the theater. In the spacious foyer which led to
the circular promenade, brilliantly dressed women mingled with
black-coated men.

Forestier forced his way rapidly through the throng and accosted an
usher.

"Box 17?"