Usually the light went out before nine o'clock.

She went to the post-office door and looked out.

The streets were empty; there was not a light burning anywhere, save in the house of the Notary.

Down towards the river a sleigh was making its way over the thin snow of spring, and screeching on the stones.

Some late revellers, moving homewards from the Trois Couronnes, were roaring at the top of their voices the habitant chanson, 'Le Petit Roger Bontemps': "For I am Roger Bontemps, Gai, gai, gai! With drink I am full and with joy content, Gai, gaiment!" The chanson died away as she stood there, and still the light was burning in the shop opposite.