Perhaps the musing-fit into which I had by this time fallen, appeared somewhat suspicious in its abstraction; he gently interrupted:

“Mademoiselle,” said he, “I trust you have not far to go through these inundated streets?”

“More than half a league.”

“You live⁠—?”

“In the Rue Fossette .”

“Not” (with animation), “not at the pensionnat of Madame Beck?”

“The same.”