"Nothing."
This was only too true; apart from the mattress, the two cane chairs, a little table, a tiny stove, a camera and a few photographic supplies, there was nothing in this wagon; no trunks, no baskets, no clothes....
"All right; you can pass," said the man.
Once through the Gates, Perrine, holding Palikare by the bridle, followed the stretch of grass along the embankment. In the brown, dirty grass she saw rough looking men lying on their backs or on their stomachs. She saw now the class of people who frequent this spot. From the very air of these men, with their bestial, criminal faces, she understood why it would be unsafe for them to be there at night. She could well believe that their knives would be in ready use.
Looking towards the city, she saw nothing but dirty streets and filthy houses. So this was Paris, the beautiful Paris of which her father had so often spoken. With one word she made her donkey go faster, then turning to the left she inquired for the Guillot Field.
If everyone knew where it was situated, no two were of the same opinion as to which road she should take to get there, and several times, in trying to follow the various directions which were given to her, she lost her way.
At last she found the place for which she was looking. This must be it! Inside the field there was an old omnibus without wheels, and a railway car, also without wheels, was on the ground. In addition, she saw a dozen little round pups rolling about. Yes, this was the place!
Leaving Palikare in the street, she went into the field. The pups at once scrambled at her feet, barked, and snapped at her shoes.
"Who's there?" called a voice.
She looked around and saw a long, low building, which might have been a house, but which might serve for anything else. The walls were made of bits of stone, wood and plaster. Even tin boxes were used in its construction. The roof was made of tarred canvas and cardboard, and most of the window panes were of paper, although in one or two instances there was some glass. The man who designed it was another Robinson Crusoe, and his workman a man Friday.