QUOTE : Awhorehouse? Really?” Eva asked thirty minutes later as they stood on a seedy side street in Pigalle, looking up at a stone building with opening hours listed on the left windowpane in both German and French. “You want me to stay here?” “First of all, it’s called a brothel, not a whorehouse.” Rémy grinned at her, obviously enjoying her discomfort. “A brothel, a bordello, a cathouse, does it matter?” “Well, considering the fine folks here will be putting us up for the night, I would suggest being polite.