16 Boulevard des Italiens : Café Riche

The Reprieve, p.361
He went up to them and smiled. Ruby liked him because he looked so distinguished. And so, three flowers sat down at a table outside the Café Riche. The place was a bed of flowers : flowers, sunlit murmurous faces, flags and fountains and sunshine. She looked at the ground : the sunlight blazed into her eyes, no one should pass judgement on a seasick man. Peace should come for her, too.

Iron In The Soul, p.65
Almost every table outside the Café Riche was occupied. they sat down in a crowd of bold, dark-haired trollops, elegant officers, soldiers, and middle-aged men with podgy hands - an inoffensive, conventional world of folk who'd much better be killed, though as painlessly as possible, of course. Ivich was tugging at her short hair. 'Things not good?' asked Boris. She answered him with a shrug. he stretched his legs and thought how bored he was.
'What are you going to have?' he asked.
'Is their coffee drinkable?'
'So-so.'
'I'm dying for a cup of good coffee. The stuff they make up at the house is perfectly foul.'
'Two coffees,' said Boris to the waiter.

 

 

* the Cafe Riche that Sartre refers to unfortunately burned down long ago. It has more or less been replaced