"Now," said La Rouquerie, after she had put thirty francs into poor Perrine's hand, "you must take him to my place, for I'm beginning to know him and he's quite capable of refusing to come with me. I don't live far from here."
But Grain-of-Salt would not consent to do this; he declared that the distance was too far for him.
"You go with the lady alone," he said to Perrine, "and don't be too cut up about your donkey. He'll be all right with her. She's a good woman."
"But how shall I find my way back to Charonne?" asked Perrine, bewildered. She dreaded to be lost in the great city.
"You follow the fortifications ... nothing easier."
As it happened, the street where La Rouquerie lived was not far from the Horse Market, and it did not take them long to get there. There were heaps of garbage before her place, just like in Guillot Field.
The moment of parting had come. As she tied Palikare up in a little stable, her tears fell on his head.
"Don't take on so," said the woman; "I'll take care of him, I promise you."
"We loved him so much," said little Perrine. Then she went on her way.