However, there was such a crush on the Concorde bridge, that the driver had to walk his horse.

And, on the foot-pavement, Pierre again saw Duthil, who, with a cigar between his lips, was smiling at the crowd, with his amiable bird-like heedlessness, happy as he felt at finding the pavement dry and the sky blue on leaving that worrying sitting of the Chamber.

Seeing how gay and triumphant he looked, a sudden inspiration came to the priest, who said to himself that he ought to win over this young man, whose report had had such a disastrous effect.

As it happened, the cab having been compelled to stop altogether, the deputy had just recognized him and was smiling at him.
"Where are you going, Monsieur Duthil ?" Pierre asked.
"Close by, in the Champs Elysees." "I'm going that way, and, as I should much like to speak to you for a moment, it would be very kind of you to take a seat beside me.

I will set you down wherever you like." "Willingly, Monsieur l'Abbe.