"You will find two fifty-franc notes in this. It is more than you need for a suitable disguise. I will give you more money when you start off, because I am going to send you to a foreign country."
Whilst talking, Vagualame and Bobinette had gone a long way from The Crying Calf. By a labyrinth of little streets, all darkness and mystery, Vagualame had led his companion to a kind of blind alley: a tall house blocked the end of it. A large shop on the ground floor occupied half the front of it. Although the iron shutters had been drawn down, light from the interior penetrated through apertures to the street—thin rays of light.
Vagualame laid a brutal hand on Bobinette.
"Attend to what I say: it is no joking matter. You are coming in with me. I am going to introduce you to my many friends here, whom I have recently got to know: they may say things that will astonish you, but do not show surprise.... I bring you here that you may know where to find me during the five days you remain in Paris.... You have only to write a letter and bring it to the woman who keeps this library. Address to Vagualame: it will reach me."
"Yes," replied Bobinette.
Vagualame knocked three separate times, then twice quickly, on the iron shutters. A key turned in the lock: the door opened. Vagualame thrust Bobinette across the threshold. Out of the obscurity of the streets whipped by an icy wind and torrents of rain, Bobinette found herself in a brilliantly lighted book-shop.
She stood dazzled.
A young woman came forward.
"Good evening, Sophie," said Vagualame: "Anything new?"
"Nothing new, Vagualame!"