In the moonlight, these silent houses with their uneven roofs projected fantastic glimmerings.
When do they open?
At unknown hours, at the most silent time of the darkest nights.

Then comes the jailer who has slipped away from his watch, or the convict who has managed to escape from the prison, though sometimes they arrive together, aiding and abetting each other; then, when daylight dawns, the jailer turns his head away and nobody is the wiser.
In the sailor's district, on the contrary, everything is open and above-board.

The disreputable houses are full of noise and light; there is dancing and shouting and fighting.

On the ground floors, in the low rooms, women in filmy attire sit on the benches that line the white-washed walls lighted by an oil lamp; others, in the doorway, beckon to you, and their animated faces stand out in relief on the background of the lighted resort, from which issues the sound of clinking glasses and coarse caresses.

You can hear the kisses which fall on the opulent shoulders of the women and the laughter of the girl who is sitting on some tanned sailor's lap, her unruly locks slipping from under her cap and her bare shoulders issuing from her chemise.