Scattering among the twilight colonnade of the trees, these people engulf themselves in the heaped-up lodgings and rooms; they flow together in the cavity of doors; they plunge into the houses; and there they are vaguely turned into lights.
I continue to walk, surrounded by several companions who are foremen and clerks, for I do not associate with the workmen.

Then there are handshakes, and I go on alone.
Some dimly seen wayfarers disappear; the sounds of sliding locks and closing shutters are heard here and there; the houses have shut themselves up, the night-bound town becomes a desert profound.

I can hear nothing now but my own footfall.
Viviers is divided into two parts--like many towns, no doubt.

First, the rich town, composed of the main street, where you find the Grand Cafe, the elegant hotels, the sculptured houses, the church and the castle on the hill-top.

The other is the lower town, which I am now entering.