The black dress, as worn as Perrine's skirt but not so dusty, for it had been brushed, was lying on the bed, and served for a cover. They found the seven francs and an Austrian coin.
"How much does that make in all?" asked Perrine; "I don't understand French money."
"I know very little more than you," replied her mother.
Counting the florin at two francs, they found they had nine francs and eighty-five centimes.
"You see we have more than what is needed for a doctor," insisted Perrine.
"He won't cure me with words; we shall have to buy medicine."
"I have an idea. You can imagine that all the time I was walking beside Palikare I did not waste my time just talking to him, although he likes that. I was also thinking of both of us, but mostly of you, mama, because you are sick. And I was thinking of our arrival at Maraucourt. Everybody has laughed at our wagon as we came along, and I am afraid if we go to Maraucourt with it we shall not get much of a welcome. If our relations are very proud, they'll be humiliated.
"So I thought," she added, wisely, "that as we don't need the wagon any more, we could sell it. Now that you are ill, no one will let me take their pictures, and even if they would we have not the money to buy the things for developing that we need. We must sell it."
"And how much can we get for it?"
"We can get something; then there is the camera and the mattress."