midnight
Thanks to the good God , they at least know they are still alive ! '' Ever since the fall of evening , whose clear gloaming had seemed to promise a fair night of moonlight , the skies had been thickening slowly over Paris . While still at the Ambassadeurs Lanyard had noticed that the moon was being blotted out . By midnight its paling disk had become totally eclipsed , the clouds hung low over the city , a dense blanket imprisoning heat which was oppressive even in the open and stifling in the ill-ventilated restaurants . Now from the shelter of the café canopy Lanyard and Athenais Reneaux looked out upon a pave like a river of jet ribboned with gently glowing lights and running between the low banks of sidewalks no less black : both deserted but for a few belated prowlers lurching homeward through the drizzle , and a rank of private cars waiting near the entrance . The bedizened porter whistled fatuously at a passing taxicab , which though fareless held steadfast to its way , while the driver acknowledged the signal only with jeers and disgraceful gestures , after the manner of his kind . So that Lanyard , remembering how frequently similar experiences had befallen him in pre-War Paris , reflected sadly that the great conflict had , after all , worked little change in human hearts -- charitably assuming the bosoms of French taxi-bandits to be so furnished .