Events kept on overlapping each other; within a week the world seemed to have made up for its long period of peace.
The old man fairly lived in the street, attracted by the spectacle of the multitude of civilians saluting the multitude of uniformed men departing for the seat of war.
At night he saw the processions passing through the boulevards.

The tricolored flag was fluttering its colors under the electric lights.

The cafes were overflowing with people, sending forth from doors and windows the excited, musical notes of patriotic songs.

Suddenly, amidst applause and cheers, the crowd would make an opening in the street.

All Europe was passing here; all Europe--less the arrogant enemy--and was saluting France in her hour of danger with hearty spontaneity.