Of what?
Of several things, perhaps, but certainly of how to beat a retreat.

I guessed it by the movement of her sunshade, which was nervously tracing figures in the turf.

I signalled to Lampron.

We retired backward.

Yet it was in vain; the charm was broken, the peace had been disturbed.
She gave two coughs--musical little coughs, produced at will.
M.Charnot broke off his reading.
"You are cold, Jeanne ?" "Why, no, father." "Yes, yes, you're cold.