Merely through enunciating it thus, the throng worked itself into a state of gaiety and became highly good natured.

A fever of curiosity urged it forward, that kind of Parisian curiosity which is as violent as an access of positive unreason.

Everybody wanted to see Nana.

A lady had the flounce of her dress torn off; a man lost his hat.
"Oh, you're asking me too many questions about it!" cried Bordenave, whom a score of men were besieging with their queries.

"You're going to see her, and I'm off; they want me." He disappeared, enchanted at having fired his public.