La nuit tait venue, mais les nuits de Syrie ne sont qu'un jour bleu tre; tout le monde prenait le frais sur les terrasses, et cette ville, mesure que je la regardais en remontant les collines ext rieures, affectait des airs babyloniens. La lune d coupait de blanches silhouettes sur les escaliers que forment de loin ces maisons qu'on 3 vues dans le jour si hautes et si sombres et dont les t tes des cypr s et des palmiers rompent et l l'uni formit .

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