"Why, you're letting him eat it!" she cried to the boy.
"Well, why not?" he retorted.
"And if the man is angry?"
"He'd better not be with me," said the small boy, putting himself in a position to fight and throwing his head back.
But his prowess was not to be brought into action, for at this moment the custom officer began to search the cart of straw, and then gave permission for it to pass on through the Gates of Paris.
"Now it's your turn," said the boy, "and I'll have to leave you. Goodbye, Mademoiselle. If you ever want news of me ask for Double Fat. Everybody knows me."
The employés who guard the entrances of Paris are accustomed to strange sights, yet the man who went into Perrine's caravan looked surprised when he found a young woman lying on a mattress, and even more surprised when his hasty glance revealed to him the extreme poverty of her surroundings.
"Have you anything to declare?" he asked, continuing his investigations.
"Nothing."
"No wine, no provisions?"