Jean slipped into the circle, urged by the instinct that draws a stroller with nothing to do to the neighbourhood of light and noise and that love of a crowd which is characteristic of your Parisian.

They are pointed at by the children, who, according as they chance to have been bred on one side or the other say, "There goes a man who never saw Glootin," as they call the earth; or, "There goes a Booblimak," which means a night stroller.

Our good serving-man was told to send away the few strollers who approached; even our friends from the city were asked to remove beyond the reach of voice.