Nana smiled.
"I know, I know," she murmured.

"So much the better for Paul.

He's a nice boy--he deserves it." And leaning toward Louiset: "You're enjoying yourself, eh?
What a grave face!" The child never smiled.

With a very old expression he was gazing at all those crowds, as though the sight of them filled him with melancholy reflections.

Bijou, chased from the skirts of the young woman who was moving about a great deal, had come to nestle, shivering, against the little fellow.
Meanwhile the field was filling up.