The child, frightened by his looks, remained twisting from side to side, while Javogues, softening his voice, repeated the question.
The child shook her head.
"What does he say of us?" It was Boudgoust who put the question.
"Don't know."
"But he suffers much with this famine, doesn't he?" suggested Cramoisin, slyly.
"Oh, yes," she answered, the innocent face brightening. "Papa says we suffer more now than before."
Cramoisin, triumphant and smiling, drew back; the child toddled on.
"Ah, Citoyen Flaquet," Javogues cried in triumph, "who doesn't dare pass us in the daylight and who regrets the royalty, we hold you at last!"
Among the next to leave No. 38 was a girl of sixteen, who, in greeting Javogues, faltered a little in her walk. It was Geneviève, suddenly blossomed into a woman. Her eyes, that formerly were too black and large on her sallow face, were now in fair relief to her cheeks, that had flushed with the glow of womanhood. She moved lightly, and even the carelessness of her dress could not conceal the full figure, erect and flexible. The four men watched her pass on and take her place in the lengthening line.