Some of them had not even taken time to put on their braces.

They were very impatient, but it was evident that Rougon was waiting for some one else before speaking out.

He constantly turned an anxious look towards the door.

For an hour there was only significant hand-shaking, vague congratulation, admiring whispering, suppressed joy of uncertain origin, which only awaited a word of enlightenment to turn to enthusiasm.
At last Granoux appeared.

He paused for a moment on the threshold, with his right hand pressed to his breast between the buttons of his frock-coat; his broad pale face was beaming; in vain he strove to conceal his emotion beneath an expression of dignity.