His friend answered: "I would like nothing better." 

Jean replied: "It is hardly eleven o'clock.  We shall arrive much
before midnight, so let us go slowly." 

A restless crowd was moving along the boulevard, that throng
peculiar to summer nights, drinking, chatting, and flowing like a
river, filled with a sense of comfort and joy.  Here and there a cafe
threw a flood of light upon a knot of patrons drinking at little
tables on the sidewalk, which were covered with bottles and glasses,
hindering the passing of the hurrying multitude.  On the pavement the
cabs with their red, blue, or green lights dashed by, showing for a
second, in the glimmer, the thin shadow of the horse, the raised
profile of the coachman, and the dark box of the carriage.  The cabs
of the Urbaine Company made clear and rapid spots when their yellow
panels were struck by the light. 

The two friends walked with slow steps, cigars in their mouths, in
evening dress and overcoats on their arms, with a flower in their
buttonholes, and their hats a trifle on one side, as men will