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"There's the Brasserie Lutetia, on the ground-floor of the house in which I live, on the Place des Ternes." "Capital. That will be very handy." They scarcely spoke on the way. Renine, however, said to Gaston Dutreuil: "So far as I remember, the numbers of the notes are known, aren't they?" "Yes. M. Guillaume had entered the sixty numbers in his pocket-book."
For the leisure hours of these there were the innocent wine-shops of South Fifth Avenue, such as the Brasserie Pigault, which Bunner introduced to the readers of "The Midge" with a quaint conceit.
It proved to be a brasserie-
She was young not more than twenty, I think with wonderful big coal-black eyes, a wealth of dark hair worn with a bandeau, and a face that was perfectly charming. She seemed known to Blythe, too, for one evening I saw her sitting with him in the Brasserie Universelle, in the Avenue de l'Opéra that place where one dines so well and cheaply.
He nodded to a friendly gendarme, and crossed the street to avoid a frolicksome party of students, who were bawling at the top of their voices the chorus of the latest topical song by Paulus, the Beranger of the day "Nous en avons pour tous les gouts." Victor Nevill heard the refrain as he left the brasserie and looked warily about.
The customers of the brasserie were a mixed lot of women and men, the latter comprising' numerous nationalities, and all drawn to Paris by the wiles of the Goddess of Art. Topical songs of the day succeeded one another rapidly. A group of long-haired, polyglot students hung around the piano, while others played on violins or guitars, which they had brought to contribute to the evening's enjoyment.
Come away from the Brasserie des Sirènes of Mademoiselle Marthe in the Faubourg Poissonnière, from the Rue Dancourt, from the Moulin Rose in the Mazagran from all such undiluted cellars of vicious prostitution if these be Paris, then West Twenty-eighth Street in New York. Look you, romance seeker, rather into the places of Montépin and Eugène Sue. The moon is down.
And then the music stopped, the Brasserie des Quatre Vents became a glaring reality, and the painted female sipping eau-de-vie at my elbow remarked plaintively, 'Tu n'es pas rigolo, toi. Veux-tu faire une valse? 'I must speak to your musician, I said. 'Excuse me. He had played a bit of Pair's music.
In spite of her feelings, in spite of the cost, she must have the letter. "Very good," said Banker, and he departed. Banker had no lodgings in particular, but he went to a brasserie and procured writing materials.
But if Banker had been astonished by Mok, he was utterly amazed and confounded when, some five minutes later, the door of the brasserie was suddenly opened, and another of the slaves of the Rackbirds, with whose face he was also perfectly familiar, hurriedly entered. Cheditafa, who had been sent on an errand that evening, had missed Mok on his return.
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