The Crowd [approvingly]. She's right.—You're all right, mother. Let's go home.
Hulin. What have you to say to that?
Hoche [with a smile]. She reminds me of my old aunt. She talked about patience the moment she set to beating me.
Hulin. I think she talked good common sense.
Hoche. I ask nothing better than to be able to believe her; and I find it so natural that reason should prevail in her mind that if I listened to my own counsel, I should even allow my enemies to make reason triumph; but, you see, experience has too often disabused me. All I have to do is to open my eyes; I see Gonchon and his band closing shop. They do nothing without a motive, mind you, and I am very much afraid that this sudden quiet is only the lull before the storm. At base, no one believes that this calm is natural; they all stayed, even the old lady. They try to delude themselves, but they can't. They have all caught the fever. Listen to the voice of that crowd! They don't shout, but hear the murmurs! Like the rustling of leaves. The breeze before the rain. [He seizes Hulin's hand.] See! Look! Hulin—here, here— [A great confused murmur comes from the Crowd at the back of the Garden, and then bursts forth like a clap of thunder.]
A Man [out of breath, his hat gone, his clothing in disorder, runs in, and cries out in terror.] Necker is exiled!
The Crowd [excitedly, hurrying to the Man]. What! What! Necker!—It's a lie!
