The salons of supreme self-interest dance in the name of the people, their master rises and falls through drugs, men and women's dreams and madness, feasting on the absolute power of gluttony and drink—this was a popular joke among the regulars, but it also realistically captured what these rooms were plotting.
Every sort of sordid deal.
In a word, that's what it was all about.
Money, intelligence, power, flesh, violence... Everything you could imagine was traded here for a price, including turning a commoner into a universally respected inspector.
