For a time, early last year, there was no trace of Robespierre to be
found on the street where he lived in the days of his fame. The
restaurant called Le Robespierre had closed its doors, and after a while
its portrait sign was removed from above the entrance of the house on
the rue Saint-Honoré. Once again, the plaque on the wall had been
smashed. The marble was shattered, the letters gouged away by a
vindictive chisel. Just before the Bastille celebration, on a day of
misty heat, a new plaque appeared. In the interim, only the staff of the
new patisserie were able to confirm that it was true: Robespierre lived
here.
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