a
quarter past seven
`` Shall you dine here ? '' inquired Maldant . `` Yes . '' `` We have a table with Liverdy , Rocdiane , and Landa ; make haste ; it is a quarter past seven . '' The dining-room was full , and there was a continuous hum of men 's voices . There were all the nocturnal vagabonds of Paris , idlers and workers , all those who from seven o'clock in the evening know not what to do and dine at the club , ready to catch at anything or anybody that chance may offer to amuse them . When the five friends were seated the banker Liverdy , a vigorous and hearty man of forty , said to Bertin : `` You were in fine form this evening . ''