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exhaled a vague odor of the police. It was necessary that we should
disperse. Labrousse said to us, "I have just seen Longe-pied roving
about."
We separated. We went away one by one, and each in his own direction. We
did not know where we should meet again, or whether we should meet
again. What was going to happen and what was about to become of us all?
No one knew. We were filled with a terrible dread.
I turned up towards the Boulevards, anxious to see what was taking
place.
What was taking place I have just related.
Bancel and Versigny had rejoined me.
As I left the Boulevards, mingled with the whirl of the terrified crowd,
not knowing where I was going, returning towards the centre of Paris, a
voice suddenly whispered in my ear, "There is something over there which
you ought to see." I recognized the voice. It was the voice of E.P.
E.P. is a dramatic author, a man of talent, for whom under Louis
Philippe I had procured exemption from military service. I had not seen
him for four or five years. I met him again in this tumult. He spoke to
me as though we had seen each other yesterday. Such are these times of
bewilderment. There is no time to greet each other "according to the
rules of society." One speaks as though all were in full flight.
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