From music the talk had declined to purveyors.

Boissier was the only person for sweetmeats and Catherine for ices.

Mme Chantereau, however, was all for Latinville.

Speech grew more and more indolent, and a sense of lassitude was lulling the room to sleep.

Steiner had once more set himself secretly to undermine the deputy, whom he held in a state of blockade in the corner of a settee.
M.Venot, whose teeth must have been ruined by sweet things, was eating little dry cakes, one after the other, with a small nibbling sound suggestive of a mouse, while the chief clerk, his nose in a teacup, seemed never to be going to finish its contents.