"Is Virginie Poucette here ?" "Ah, you knew me from her ?" she asked.
"There was something about her--and you have it also--and the look in the eyes, and then the lips!" he replied.
Certainly they were quite wonderful, luxurious lips, and so shapely too--like those of Virginie.
"But how did you know I was Jean Jacques Barbille ?" he repeated.
"Well, then it is quite easy," she replied with a laugh almost like a giggle, for she was quite as simple and primitive as her sister.

"There is a photographer at Vilray, and Virginie got one of your pictures there, and sent, it to me.

'He may come your way,' said Virginie to me, 'and if he does, do not forget that he is my friend.'" "That she is my friend," corrected Jean Jacques.

"And what a friend--merci, what a friend!" Suddenly he caught the woman's arm.

"You once wrote to your sister about my Zoe, my daughter, that married and ran away--" "That ran away and got married," she interrupted.
"Is there any more news--tell me, do you know- ?" But Virginie's sister shook her head.