"I need one and yet I don't need one," said La Rouquerie.
"Well, come and take a drink. 'Tain't worthwhile to pay for a place in the Market...."
"Especially if he won't budge!"
"I told you he was a smart one; he's that intelligent."
"If I buy him it's not for his tricks nor 'cause he can take a drink with one, but he must work."
"He can work, sure! He's come all the way from Greece without stopping."
"From Greece!"
Grain-of-Salt made a sign to Perrine to follow him, and Palikare, now that he knew that he was not going into the market, trotted beside her docilely. She did not even have to pull his rope.
Who was this prospective buyer? A man? A woman? From the general appearance and the hairless face it might be a woman of about fifty, but from the clothes, which consisted of a workingman's blouse and trousers and a tall leather hat like a coachman wears, and from the short, black pipe which the individual was smoking, it surely was a man. But whatever it was, Perrine decided that the person looked kind. The expression was not hard or wicked.
Grain-of-Salt and the stranger turned down a narrow street and stopped at a wine shop. They sat down at one of the tables outside on the pavement and ordered a bottle of wine and two glasses. Perrine remained by the curb, still holding her donkey.