The Sampaguita Club.

If she found my views on working girls objectionable, then why did she invite me? Or was it that things had suddenly changed?

She went back onto the dance floor. I held my hand out to Bloom, who gave it a brief shake. His grip was limp and cold. He never took his eyes off the girls on the stage.

"I didn't see you at the club last night."

"I'm sorry to hear it."
"That's too bad, " she said, as if she really meant it.

"Care for a drink?"
She shook her head. "Thanks, but I don't drink. I'm not sure how I'd react if I did, so I don't."

"Never mind," she said.

"Really?" she said, and let out something close to a sigh, as if that might not be the answer she was hoping for. Perhaps she didn't care one way or another about the time.

The club was more crowded than I'd imagined.

She looked up with an unreadable expression.

We couldn't sit together.

Sometimes you just need to let them unload their feelings," she said, not unkindly.