Six o'clock.

Suppose I dine, after a fashion, in some not too unreliable place." He remembered a nearby restaurant where he had eaten before without a great deal of dread.

He chewed his way laboriously through an extremely dead fish, then through a piece of meat, flabby and cold; then he found a very few lentils, stiff with insecticide, beneath a great deal of sauce; finally he savoured some ancient prunes, whose juice smelt of mould and was at the same time aquatic and sepulchral.
Back in his apartment, he lighted fires in his bedroom and in his study, then he inspected everything.

He was not mistaken.

The concierge had upset the place with the same brutality, the same haste, as customarily.
However, he must have tried to wash the windows, because the glass was streaked with finger marks.
Durtal effaced the imprints with a damp cloth, smoothed out the folds in the carpet, drew the curtains, and put the bookcases in order after dusting them with a napkin.