§3
The next moment she was rudely awakened from her dreams. The door of her box was torn open by a violent hand, and turning, she saw Bertrand Moncrif, hatless, with hair dishevelled, clothes dripping and mud-stained, and linen soaked through. She was only just in time to arrest with a peremptory gesture the cry which was obviously hovering on his lips.
"Hush—sh—sh!" came at once from every portion of the audience, angered by this disturbing noise.
Tallien jumped to his feet
"What is it?" he demanded in a quick whisper.
"A perquisition," Moncrif replied hurriedly, "in the house of the citoyenne!"
"Impossible!" she broke in harshly.
"Hush! . . . Silence!" the audience muttered audibly.
"I come from there," Moncrif murmured. "I have seen . . . heard . . ."
"Come outside," Theresia interjected. "We cannot talk here."