Simone de Beauvoir and Jean-Paul Sartre. Paris. Vers 1945. Photo: RDA.

From the very lovely book named "Left Bank: Art, Passion, and the Rebirth of Paris, 1940-50" by Agnès Poirier:

Koestler ordered enough champagne, vodka, and Russian hors d’oeuvres (known as zakuski) for a regiment, and everybody started relaxing. “Sartre got very drunk almost at once, Beauvoir also got drunk and K got drunk too (we drank vodka and champagne in large quantities). Francine Camus (who is extremely beautiful and nice) also got tight. Camus and I did not get drunk, though we nearly did.” Not surprisingly, when a pickpocket snitched his wallet with 13,000 francs in it, Koestler did not feel a thing. Time flew by. Sartre knew he was giving a talk, which he had not written yet, to thousands of people at UNESCO the following day, but he was having too good a time to leave. Suddenly the violinists surrounded their table and began playing “Ochi Chornya” (“Dark Eyes”), one of the most famous Russian sentimental songs. On hearing the first notes, Koestler took his head in his hands and started weeping uncontrollably. The friends patted Koestler on the shoulder and someone said, “Is it time for an onion soup?” In the street, walking toward Les Halles, the “belly of Paris” as Zola had called it, the men started soliloquizing. Camus kept repeating, “If only one could write the Truth!” Sartre was giggling, thinking aloud, “And in a few hours, I’ll be addressing a crowd about the writer’s responsibility!” And Koestler, behind them, exclaimed: “We must absolutely agree on politics or I do not see how we could be friends!” Seated in front of an onion soup, the imperious Koestler insisted on ordering oysters and white wine to wash it all down. “By that time, Sartre was simply roaring drunk, and awfully sweet and funny. He kept pouring pepper and salt into paper napkins, folding them up small and stuffing them into his pocket.” Camus, laughing and referring to the UNESCO talk, told Sartre: “Tu parleras sans moi!” (You’ll have to speak without me). Sartre burst out: “Je voudrais bien parler sans moi!” (I wish I could speak without me, too!).

When they finally looked out the window it was broad daylight. The three couples said good-bye and very unsteadily went on their way. Crossing the Seine at the Pont Neuf, Simone leaned on the bridge and began sobbing over the tragedy of the human condition. “I do not understand why we do not throw ourselves into the water!” she told Sartre. Now also weeping, he replied, “Well, let’s do it!” At a different bridge, the Pont Royal, Koestler and Mamaine had also wept profusely, but not over the human condition. Simply because of the river’s “incredible beauty” with “those lovely lemon-green and yellow poplars with their black trunks, and the houses reflected in the water by the early morning light.” Beauvoir could not remember later how they got back to their respective beds. Eight hours later, the worse for wear, looking rather pale, she was seated in the front row at UNESCO’s big amphitheater for Sartre’s lecture. Sartre appeared on stage: “his face was ravaged.” Sartre had slept only two hours. When his alarm went off, he got up and walked with great difficulty to his pharmacy where he grabbed a tube of Orthédrine. It was full; he swallowed all the pills. Orthédrine was a stimulant drug, widely available in pharmacies, on which the résistants who had used it during the war had bestowed a kind of magic aura.