"Well, Citoyen Boudgoust, what news?"
At Louison's question, he showed the palms of his hands, finally volunteering:
"Santerre is to send us word."
"There's room beyond?"
"You are going to eat?"
"Of course," Louison said impatiently, as he barred the way. "Besides, mon ami, don't you think we know what's going on?"
He allowed them to pass, grumbling, "Every one comes to talk; no one to eat."
In the farther hall the crowd was thinner and composed mostly of Marseillais and the National Guard, who looked up furtively, until half a dozen greetings removed their suspicions.
"Good evening, Citoyenne Nicole."
In her astonishment, she turned to find Geneviève.