No doubt the proximity of the town was the cause of this.

She could already hear the familiar noise of muffled drums, the loud, excited shrieking of the mob, who stood round the gates of Paris, at this time of the evening, waiting to witness some important capture, perhaps that of a hated aristocrat striving to escape from the people's revenge.
They had reached the edge of the wood, and gradually, as she walked, the flowers she had gathered fell unheeded out of her listless hands one by one.
First the blue lupins: their bud-laden heads were heavy and they dropped to the ground, followed by the white marguerites, that lay thick behind her now on the grass like a shroud.

The red poppies were the lightest, their thin gummy stalks clung to her hands longer than the rest.

At last she let them fall too, singly, like great drops of blood, that glistened as her long white gown swept them aside.
Deroulede was absorbed in his thoughts, and seemed not to heed her.

At the barrier, however, he roused himself and took out the passes which alone enabled Juliette and Petronelle to re-enter the town unchallenged.
He himself as Citizen-Deputy could come and go as he wished.
Juliette shuddered as the great gates closed behind her with a heavy clank.