midnight
said he . `` It is a fine night ; let us take a walk . '' `` Willingly . '' They went toward the Madeleine , in the mist of the nocturnal crowd possessed by that short and violent midnight excitement which stirs the Boulevards when the theaters are being emptied . Musadieu had a thousand things in his mind , all his subjects for conversation from the moment when Bertin should name his preference ; and he let his eloquence loose upon the two or three topics that interested him most . The painter allowed him to run on without listening to him , and holding him by the arm , sure of being able soon to lead him to talk of Annette , he walked along without noticing his surroundings , imprisoned within his love . He walked , exhausted by that fit of jealousy which had bruised him like a fall , overcome by the conviction that he had nothing more to do in the world .