An Émeute
On one of my visits to Paris I had the pleasure of dining at the Bank of France. During dinner, in the midst of an interesting conversation, the Chairman received a note: having glanced over it he put it down by his side on the table.
On the occurrence of a pause in the conversation, thinking the note might possibly require an immediate reply, I inquired whether such was the case. “No,” said my host, “it is of no consequence. It is only an émeute;” which he then informed me was occurring in a distant part of Paris.