This suburb was the only corner of night Paris which was still alight and still alive, the only market still open to nocturnal bargains.

These last were openly struck between group and group and from one end of the street to the other, just as in the wide and open corridor of a disorderly house.

On such evenings as the pair came home without having had any success they used to wrangle together.

The Rue Notre Dame de la Lorette stretched dark and deserted in front of them.

Here and there the crawling shadow of a woman was discernible, for the Quarter was going home and going home late, and poor creatures, exasperated at a night of fruitless loitering, were unwilling to give up the chase and would still stand, disputing in hoarse voices with any strayed reveler they could catch at the corner of the Rue Breda or the Rue Fontaine.
Nevertheless, some windfalls came in their way now and then in the shape of louis picked up in the society of elegant gentlemen, who slipped their decorations into their pockets as they went upstairs with them.
Satin had an especially keen scent for these.