"I should think he must be dead by this time. The doctors did not give
him twenty-four hours to live."

The persons engaged in this conversation were standing in an ante-chamber
on the ground-floor, in which usually assembled those who came to offer
their voluntary aid to the sick. One door of this room communicated with
the rest of the hospital, and the other with the passage that opened upon
the courtyard.

"Dear me!" said one of the two speakers, looking through the window. "See
what two charming girls have just got out of that elegant carriage. How
much alike they are! Such a resemblance is indeed extraordinary."

"No doubt they are twins. Poor young girls! dressed in Mourning. They
have perhaps lost father or mother."

"One would imagine they are coming this way."

"Yes, they are coming up the steps."

And indeed Rose and Blanche soon entered the antechamber, with a timid,
anxious air, though a sort of feverish excitement was visible in their
looks. One of the two men that were talking together, moved by the
embarrassment of the girls, advanced toward them, and said, in a tone of
attentive politeness: "Is there anything I can do for you, ladies?"

"Is not this, sir," replied Rose, "the infirmary of the Rue du Mont
Blanc?"