"And you, Citoyen Barabant?"
"I also."
"Morbleu, you've strange tastes!"
They shuffled away, leaving Barabant and Goursac, with their backs to the maple-tree, in possession of the empty darkness.
Presently lights began to splotch the walls, and at the windows appeared the silhouettes of feminine forms, while a running comment resounded:
"Where are the men?"
"Gone to the cabaret, probably."
"They are, if my man's among them."
"They're all weak-kneed."
"The cowards!"