After a quarter of an hour's diplomacy this congress of glances had tacitly settled the matter.

There was nothing to be done save to ratify it.
The interrupted conversation was renewed.
"Candidly now," said Musette to Marcel, "where were you going just now ?" "I told you, to see Laura." "Is she pretty ?" "Her mouth is a nest of smiles." "Oh! I know all that sort of thing." "But you yourself," said Marcel, "whence came you on the wings of this four-wheeler ?" "I came back from the railway station where I had been to see off Alexis, who is going on a visit to his family." "What sort of man is Alexis ?" In turn Musette sketched a charming portrait of her present lover.
Whilst walking along Marcel and Musette continued thus on the open Boulevard the comedy of reawakening love.

With the same simplicity, in turn tender and jesting, they went verse by verse through that immortal ode in which Horace and Lydia extol with such grace the charms of their new loves, and end by adding a postscript to their old ones.

As they reached the corner of the street a rather strong picket of soldiers suddenly issued from it.
Musette struck an attitude of alarm, and clutching hold of Marcel's arm said, "Ah! Good heavens! Look there, soldiers; there is going to be another revolution.

Let us bolt off, I am awfully afraid.