“Oh, but he does. He has no other children and is crazy to find this one.”
Hyacinth sighed.
“Well, I think I go home. Excellencies will pardon me.”
“One minute. Do you know somebody—a woman—named—how in the deuce is this pronounced, Madame A—o—”
“Madame A-o,” she repeated, softly. “No, I do not know such name—but—but—my mother, her august name is liddle like that—Madame A-o-i.”
The two men started, the same idea occurring in a flash to each.
“Jove!” said the younger, “our search is ended.”
The girl stared at them with puzzled eyes. The elder man went a step nearer to her, bent down, and looked very closely at her face.
“Do you know,” he said, slowly, “I have a strong suspicion that you—you are the child we are looking for?”
“Me!” she stammered.