Mimi drank all sorts of wine, in all sorts of glasses.

Schaunard had a quenchless Sahara in his throat.

Colline played a crossfire with his eyes, and while munching his napkin, as his habit was, kept pinching the leg of the table, which he took for Phemie's knee.

Marcel and Rodolphe maintained the stirrups of self-possession, expecting the catastrophe, not without anxiety.
The stranger regarded the scene with grave curiosity; from time to time he opened his mouth as if for a smile; then you might have heard a noise like that of a window which creaks in shutting.

It was the stranger laughing to himself.
At a quarter before twelve the bill was sent up.