This immense, squared-off building was outlined against the sky.

Its unplastered side walls were as bare as prison walls, except for rows of roughly jutting stones which suggested jaws full of decayed teeth yawning vacantly.
Gervaise was gazing at the entrance with interest.

The high, arched doorway rose to the second floor and opened onto a deep porch, at the end of which could be seen the pale daylight of a courtyard.

This entranceway was paved like the street, and down the center flowed a streamlet of pink-stained water.
"Come in," said Coupeau, "no one will eat you." Gervaise wanted to wait for him in the street.

However, she could not resist going through the porch as far as the concierge's room on the right.