They all three trudged along together, dragging their heels over the
footways and monopolising their whole breadth so as to force others to
step down into the road. With their noses in the air they sniffed in
the odours of Paris, and could have recognised every corner blindfold
by the spirituous emanations of the wine shops, the hot puffs that came
from the bakehouses and confectioners’, and the musty odours wafted
from the fruiterers’. They would make the circuit of the whole
district. They delighted in passing through the rotunda of the corn
market, that huge massive stone cage where sacks of flour were piled up
on every side, and where their footsteps echoed in the silence of the
resonant roof. They were fond, too, of the little narrow streets in the
neighbourhood, which had become as deserted, as black, and as mournful
as though they formed part of an abandoned city. These were the Rue
Babille, the Rue Sauval, the Rue des Deux Ecus, and the Rue de Viarmes,
this last pallid from its proximity to the millers’ stores, and at four
o’clock lively by reason of the corn exchange held there. It was
generally at this point that they started on their round. They made
their way slowly along the Rue Vauvilliers, glancing as they went at
the windows of the low eating-houses, and thus reaching the miserably
narrow Rue des Prouvaires, where Claude blinked his eyes as he saw one
of the covered ways of the market, at the far end of which, framed
round by this huge iron nave, appeared a side entrance of St. Eustache
with its rose and its tiers of arched windows. And then, with an air of
defiance, he would remark that all the middle ages and the Renaissance
put together were less mighty than the central markets. Afterwards, as
they paced the broad new streets, the Rue du Pont Neuf and the Rue des
Halles, he explained modern life with its wide footways, its lofty
houses, and its luxurious shops, to the two urchins. He predicted, too,
the advent of new and truly original art, whose approach he could
divine, and despair filled him that its revelation should seemingly be
beyond his own powers.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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