Rue Danton

Iron In The Soul, p.91
In the Rue Danton, nobody. The iron shutters had not even been lowered. The windows glittered. The proprietors had just removed the handles from the doors - and gone. It was Sunday. For the last three days it had been Sunday. The whole week now, in Paris, consisted of one day, a ready-made, colourless sort of day, rather stiffer than usual, rather more synthetic, over-marked by silence, and already filled by a secretly working rot. Daniel approached a large shop (knitted goods and textiles); the multicoloured balls of wool, arranged in pyramids, were in the process of turning yellow. They smelt of old age. In the establishment next door a display of baby-linen and ladies' blouses was rapidly fading. White dust was accumulating, like flour, upon the shelves. The plate-glass was stained with long white streaks. Daniel thought - 'The windows were weeping'.

* 5 Rue Danton are the apartments once occupied by Isadora Duncan,
dancer extraordinaire ..