two o'clock in the morning
Bouvard , when he got home , inhaled over the balcony a deep breath of air , saying to himself , `` At last ! '' The lights along the quays quivered in the water , the rolling of omnibuses in the distance gradually ceased . He recalled happy days spent in this great city , supper-parties at restaurants , evenings at the theatre , gossips with his portress , all his habitual associations ; and he experienced a sinking of the heart , a sadness which he dared not acknowledge even to himself . Pécuchet was walking in his room up to two o'clock in the morning . He would come back there no more : so much the better ! And yet , in order to leave behind something of himself , he printed his name on the plaster over the chimney-piece . The larger portion of the baggage was gone since the night before .