At each fresh detail there was an interruption.
"And you were only forty-one; it's marvellous!" "Ah, indeed! it must have been frightfully dark!" "No; I confess I never should have dared it!" "Then you seized him, like that, by the throat?
"And the insurgents, what did they say ?" These remarks and questions only incited Rougon's imagination the more.
He replied to everybody.

He mimicked the action.

This stout man, in his admiration of his own achievements, became as nimble as a schoolboy; he began afresh, repeated himself, amidst the exclamations of surprise and individual discussions which suddenly arose about some trifling detail.
And thus he continued blowing his trumpet, making himself more and more important as if some irresistible force impelled him to turn his narrative into a genuine epic.

Moreover Granoux and Roudier stood by his side prompting him, reminding him of such trifling matters as he omitted.

They also were burning to put in a word, and occasionally they could not restrain themselves, so that all three went on talking together.