Page:In Maremma, by Ouida (vol 1).djvu/98



HE grew to eight years old without ever seeming to think of accounting for her own existence.

Then, abruptly one day she said to Joconda:

'Are you my mother?'

Joconda's weatherbeaten hard face broke into a laugh.

'Lord! baby—why I am seventy years old and more!'

'Where is my mother, then?'

'In heaven,' said Joconda; and thought, 'poor soul, more like in hell!'

The child was silent, pondering.

'Where is my father, then?'

'Why do you ask such things?'

'Because the others, they have a father and a mother apiece, where are mine?'