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Updated: June 17, 2025
For, like the real Parisian who practises the cult of the dead, they had dressed themselves up in their best to pay respect to the one they had just buried. "I want to tell you, little one," commenced Grain-of-Salt, who thought that he should speak first, being the most important person present; "I want to tell you that you can stay as long as you like in Guillot Fields without paying."
All he knew was that she loved him and that the thistles were good. So, as she kissed and kissed, he brayed in contentment and shook his long ears as he looked at her from the corner of his eyes. Besides, he had made friends with Grain-of-Salt and had received a proof of his friendship in a way that flattered his greed.
They walked on for some moments, Perrine not knowing what was passing around her, nor understanding where they were leading her. Her thoughts, her spirit, her heart, were with her mother. At last they stopped in one of the side paths; then she saw standing round her the Baroness, who had now let go of her arm, Grain-of-Salt and the candy man, but she saw them only vaguely.
Palikare, taking the offer seriously, came a step nearer and pushing out his lips to make them as thin and as long as possible, drank a good half of the glass which had been filled to the brim. "Oh la la! la la!" cried Grain-of-Salt, bursting with laughter. "Baroness! Carp! Come here!"
"Do you know the way?" "I have a map in my pocket...." "Yes, but does that tell you which road you have to take from here, here in Paris?" "No, but if you will tell me...." They all were eager to give her this information, but it was all so confused and contradictory that Grain-of-Salt cut the talk short. "If you want to lose yourself in Paris, just listen to what they are saying," he said.
Wednesday seemed a long way off, for in her excitement, and filled with hope, Perrine had thought that by Wednesday her mother would be strong enough to start for Maraucourt. But to have to wait like this! There was one thing, though: With what she got for the wagon she could buy the two dresses and the railway tickets, and if Grain-of-Salt paid them enough, then they need not sell Palikare.
The Baroness had black ribbons on her bonnet; Grain-of-Salt was dressed like a gentleman and wore a high silk hat; Carp had replaced his leather apron by a black Prince Albert which came down to his feet, and the candy man had cast aside his white blouse for a cloth coat.
But he sat there as though he did not understand a word of what she was saying. A crowd gathered round and began to jeer. "Set fire to his tail," cried one. Grain-of-Salt was furious, Perrine in despair. "You see he won't go in," cried La Rouquerie.
"Shall I read it to you?" asked Fabry. "No, if you have verified the names we will attend to that later. Go on." "I not only got the certificate; I wanted to question the man whom they call Grain-of-Salt. She died in a room in his house. Then I saw all those who were present at the poor woman's funeral. There was a street singer called the Baroness and an old shoemaker called Carp.
"I must not stay in Paris," replied Perrine; "I must go at once to my relations." "You have relations?" exclaimed Grain-of-Salt, looking at the others with an air which said that he did not think that those relations could be worth much. "Where are your relations?" "Near Amiens." "And how can you go to Amiens? Have you got money?" "Not enough to take the train, but I'm going to walk there."
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