"Really it would be very singular if these should be the same persons in whom Madame d'Harville takes so much interest."
"What persons?" inquired the comte.
"The widow of whom you speak is still young, is she not?—her face very striking?"
"Yes, but how do you know?"
"Her daughter, as lovely as an angel, and about sixteen at most?"
"Yes, yes."
"And her name is Claire?"
"Oh, for mercy's sake, say, where are they?"
"Alas! I know not."
"You know not?"