A Tuesday evening at the Red Swan, example of:

 In the darkness of the early night Treillis arose from his bed and drew a trousers over the bulging exuberance of his night-clothes, swaying on his worthless legs. He groped for guidance to the banister. He reached the hallway and continued towards the dark stone stairs to the basement, peering before him with apprehension. Strong basement smells assailed his nostrils, the odours of a washwoman’s fete from a kitchen beflagged with the steamy bunting of underclothes drying. He entered and looked about him from the door. The ceiling was decked with the rectangular banners of his bed-bibs, the great buff pennants of his drawers. The figure of Teresa was visible at the stove, her thick thighs presented to the penetration of the fire. She was a stout girl of high colour, attired in grey and divided at the centre by the terminal ridge of a corset of inferior design. Trellis examined his wools with appraising fingers, turning them tenderly in his hands. He smiled gratefully on his servant and laboured back to his bedroom, reflectively passing a hand across the pimples of his face. fearing his bed would cool, he hastened past the emptiness of the hall, where a handsome girl stood poised without her clothes on the brink of a blue river. Napoleon peered at her in a wanton fashion from the dark of the other wall.