nine o'clock
And so he harked back again and again to the letter he had received that morning with its tissue of falsehoods , invented for the extremely simple purpose of passing an evening at her own theater . The crowd had pushed him forward again , and he had crossed the passage and was puzzling his brain in front of the entrance to a restaurant , his eyes fixed on some plucked larks and on a huge salmon laid out inside the window . At length he seemed to tear himself away from this spectacle . He shook himself , looked up and noticed that it was close on nine o'clock . Nana would soon be coming out , and he would make her tell the truth . And with that he walked on and recalled to memory the evenings he once passed in that region in the days when he used to meet her at the door of the theater . He knew all the shops , and in the gas-laden air he recognized their different scents , such , for instance , as the strong savor of Russia leather , the perfume of vanilla emanating from a chocolate dealer 's basement , the savor of musk blown in whiffs from the open doors of the perfumers .