I examined her, to
discover she had most of the bones in duplicate--in each thigh two
femurs welded together, in each shoulder a double humerus. Some of her
muscles are likewise in duplicate. It is a case, in my view, of a pair
of twins associated or rather confounded together. It is an interesting
phenomenon. I notified Monsieur Saint-Hilaire of the facts, and he
thanked me. It is a monster you see before you, _citoyens_. The people
here call her 'the girl Tronche'; they should say 'the girls Tronches,'
for there are two of them. Nature has these freaks.... Good evening,
_citoyens_; we shall have a storm to-night...."

After supper by candle-light, the Academy Blaise adjourned to the
courtyard where they were joined by a son and daughter of the house in
a game of blindman's-buff, in which the young folks, both men and women,
displayed a feverish energy sufficiently accounted for by the high
spirits proper to their age without seeking an explanation in the wild
and precarious times in which they lived. When it was quite dark, Jean
Blaise proposed children's games in the farm kitchen. Elodie suggested
the game of "hunt my heart," and this was agreed to unanimously. Under
the girl's direction Philippe Desmahis traced in chalk, on different
pieces of furniture, on doors and walls, seven hearts, that is to say
one less than there were players, for old Brotteaux had obligingly
joined the rest. They danced round in a ring singing "La Tour, prends
garde!" and at a signal from Elodie, each ran to put a hand on a heart.
Gamelin in his absent-minded clumsiness was too late to find one vacant,
and had to pay a forfeit, the little knife he had bought for six sous at
the fair of Saint-Germain and with which he had cut the loaf for his
mother in her poverty. The game went on, and one after the other Blaise,
Elodie, Brotteaux and Rose Thevenin failed to touch a heart; each paid a
forfeit in turn--a ring, a reticule, a little morocco-bound book, a
bracelet. Then the forfeits were raffled on Elodie's lap, and each
player had to redeem his property by showing his society
accomplishments--singing a song or reciting a poem. Brotteaux chose the
speech of the patron saint of France in the first canto of the
_Pucelle_:

"Je suis Denis et saint de mon metier,
J'aime la Gaule,..."[2]

The _citoyen_ Blaise, though a far less well-read man, replied without
hesitation with Richemond's ripost:

"Monsieur le Saint, ce n'etait pas