"Nineteen, madame."
"Nineteen!"
Madame de Grangeville seemed struck by that answer; she reflected a moment, then answered:
"What! you are nineteen years old? You don't look it. Have you many brothers and sisters?"
"No, madame, I am alone."
"Aha! and your mother sells flowers as you do, no doubt?"
"My mother—I don't know her, madame; I am a—an abandoned child."
Madame de Grangeville could not control an impulsive movement; but she soon recovered herself, saying:
"How foolish I am! There are very many things in the world which resemble one another in some details. The most amusing part of this is that this girl looks so much like me; it is a mere freak of chance, for the other, if she's alive, must be in the depths of Picardie."
Then, turning toward the girl, the baroness continued, aloud: