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... hes, and chairs where men and their hosts socialized without reserve. A long counter extended to my left with a collection of bottles and glasses sitting in well-ordered rows on a shelf that covered the entire wall. Stairs and doors surrounded this pulsing heart of sin, passages to — I assumed — private rooms where one may consummate. A well-kept piano occupied the back of the room on a small pedestal where a man of indeterminate pedigree was busy playing the violin with surprising skill. None o ...
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