The Breton woman suppressed a movement. Her bony face betrayed profound emotion, and, hardly opening her lips, she murmured:
"Véronique . . . Véronique d'Hergemont."
"Ah," exclaimed the younger woman, "so you know my name, you know my name!"
Honorine took Véronique's two hands and held them in her own. Her weather-beaten face lit up with a smile. And her eyes grew moist with tears as she repeated:
"Mademoiselle Véronique! . . . Madame Véronique! . . . So it's you, Véronique! . . . O Heaven, is it possible! The Blessed Virgin Mary be praised!"
Véronique felt utterly confounded and kept on saying:
"You know my name . . . you know who I am . . . . Then you can explain all this riddle to me?"
After a long pause, Honorine replied:
"I can explain nothing. I don't understand either. But we can try to find out together . . . . Tell me, what was the name of that Breton village?"
"Le Faouet."