The Street of the First Shell, Chapter 4

⁠​​​‌​​​​‌​‌​​​​​​‌​​‌​​‌‌​‌​‌‌​‌​​​​‌‌‌​​​‌‌‌‌‌​​​‌‌​‌​‌​​‌‌‌‌‌​⁠When midnight sounded from the belfry of St. Sulpice the gates of Paris were still choked with fragments of what had once been an army.

They entered with the night, a sullen horde, spattered with slime, faint with hunger and exhaustion. There was little disorder at first, and the throng at the gates parted silently as the troops tramped along the freezing streets. Confusion came as the hours passed