four o’clock
Let 's go and have a glass of beer outside , eh ? ' They all went out , with sinking legs and tired faces , expressive of contempt . Once outside , on finding themselves again face to face with healthy mother Nature in her springtide season , they breathed noisily with an air of delight . It had barely struck four o'clock , the slanting sun swept along the Champs Elysees and everything flared : the serried rows of carriages , like the fresh foliage of the trees , and the sheaf-like fountains which spouted up and whirled away in golden dust . With a sauntering step they went hesitatingly down the central avenue , and finally stranded in a little cafe , the Pavillon de la Concorde , on the left , just before reaching the Place . The place was so small that they sat down outside it at the edge of the footway , despite the chill which fell from a vault of leaves , already fully grown and gloomy . But beyond the four rows of chestnut-trees , beyond the belt of verdant shade , they could see the sunlit roadway of the main avenue where Paris passed before them as in a nimbus , the carriages with their wheels radiating like stars , the big yellow omnibuses , looking even more profusely gilded than triumphal chariots , the horsemen whose steeds seemed to raise clouds of sparks , and the foot passengers whom the light enveloped in splendour .