Galerie Véro-Dodat, the most elegant and enchanting of the 20 or so remaining passages de Paris-and easily my favorite-is tucked away between the Rue du Bouloi and the Rue Jean-Jacques Rousseau, just a stone’s throw from the Louvre.

The least frequented and perhaps loveliest of all the passages, or covered arcades, the Galerie Véro-Dodat’s uniform storefronts have been meticulously maintained, presenting two series of gleaming narrow copper arches, with mirrors and faux marble columns at regular intervals flanking a black-and-white tiled floor. Gaslights were placed above the mirrors for best effect in the days before electricity. In the roof, skylights alternate with empire-style paintings depicting ancient allegories. Peek in at Robert Capia’s antique doll shop and the prestigious R et F Charle, restorer of fine stringed instruments, and stroll among the handful of antique shops and art galleries.

In its heyday in the first half of the 19th century, Galerie Véro-Dodat (built in 1826 and named after its owners, a pair of charcutiers) was part of a series of passages running from Les Halles to the Palais Royal, and beyond to the Bourse, shopping and theatre district of the 2nd and 9th arrondissements.

At the time, the passages were a fashionable means of staying dry and relatively clean, since sidewalks were a notion of the future. The triangular area at the Rue Bouloi end of Galerie Véro-Dodat was where the stagecoaches of the Messageries Laffitte et Gaillard mustered before galloping off with the mail to all the corners of Europe.

Today, the horses long replaced by the railroads, there are rarely many visitors here, making it easier to evoke the spirit of Alfred de Musset, the lovelorn playwright who was said to have returned week after week to read his plays to the actress Elisabeth Rachel Felix.

Known simply as Mademoiselle Rachel, she lived in a third-floor apartment above the Galerie Véro-Dodat from 1838 to 1842. Rachel, credited with reviving interest in classical theatre while romanticism was all the rage, was one of the string of loves wooed by the alcohol-sodden Musset after his tempestuous relationship with George Sand, that irrepressible romantic feminist born well before her time.