I make a move, putting my arm around her waist, as she studies the evolution of the Matador's costume. One mannequin is missing an eye and its face is chipped. She turns away coldly.
"What's wrong?" I say.
Ellen doesn't say a word but this is what I expect.
She opens a door at the end of the room and goes out. This surprises me. I don't know what to expect and I'm beginning to tire of her unannounced exits. I follow. Walking through the door, I find myself on a catwalk. The light is even more subdued.