I followed.

The weather was very mild that evening; the garden doors were open.
Mademoiselle Stangerson threw a fichu shawl over her shoulders and I plainly saw that it was she who was begging Monsieur Darzac to go with her into the garden.

I continued to follow, interested by the agitation plainly exhibited by the bearing of Monsieur Darzac.

They slowly passed along the wall abutting on the Avenue Marigny.

I took the central alley, walking parallel with them, and then crossed over for the purpose of getting nearer to them.