At present the days did not draw to a close soon enough, and they grew impatient with the lagging twilights.

When the night had fallen sufficiently for Miette to climb upon the wall without danger of being seen, and they could at last glide along their dear path, they no longer found there the solitude congenial to their shy, childish love.

People began to flock to the Aire Saint-Mittre, the urchins of the Faubourg remained there, romping about the beams, and shouting, till eleven o'clock at night.

It even happened occasionally that one of them would go and hide behind the piles of timber, and assail Miette and Silvere with boyish jeers.

The fear of being surprised amidst that general awakening of life as the season gradually grew warmer, tinged their meetings with anxiety.
Then, too, they began to stifle in the narrow lane.