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Updated: June 27, 2025
She'll give that back to me next time I pass by her shop, or I'll put the whole neighborhood against her. I've friends at St. Denis, and we'll set her store on fire if she don't give it up!" Perrine finished her story. "You was just about goin' to die," said La Rouquerie; "what was the feelin' like?"
During the days she had spent with La Rouquerie she had been able to mend her waist and her skirt, and had washed her linen and shined her shoes. Her past experience was a lesson: she must never give up hope at the darkest moment; she must always remember that there was a silver cloud, if she would only persevere. She had a long walk after she got out of the train at Picquigny.
"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.
"You've got a voice that would make yer famous for this here business," said La Rouquerie admiringly, as Perrine's clear treble was heard in the streets. "If yer'd stay with me you'd be doin' me a service and yer wouldn't be unhappy. You'd make a livin'. Is it a go?" "Oh, thank you, but it's not possible," replied Perrine.
As soon as he understood that she had given up all hope of getting him into the Market, he got up and followed her docilely, agitating his long ears with satisfaction. "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."
If it hadn't been for this darned heat I never should have stopped to let that donkey rest in this wood, and then he wouldn't have found yer. What cher goin' to do now?" "Go on my way." "And tomorrow? What yer got to eat? One's got to be young like you to take such a trip as this." "But what could I do?" La Rouquerie gravely took two or three puffs at her pipe.
It was so long since she had slept in sheets that she ought to think herself fortunate to get even these, hard though they were. La Rouquerie on her tramps had never spent money for a bed, and a long time ago the sheets they had in the wagon, with the exception of those kept for her mother, had been sold or worn to rags.
"Let's see if he'll go in any more now than he did then," cried La Rouquerie. Palikare followed Perrine up to the Market gates obediently, but once there he stopped short. She insisted, and talked, and pulled at the rope, but it was no use. Finally he sat down in the middle of the street. "Palikare, do come! Do come, dear Palikare," Perrine said, imploringly.
Palikare had been standing quietly looking on with his big soft eyes. When he saw La Rouquerie sit down on the grass beside Perrine, he also knelt down beside them. "The old rogue, he wants a bite, too," said the woman. "May I give him a piece?" asked Perrine. "Yes, you can give him a piece or two. When we've eaten this there is more in the cart.
"Don't you recognize La Rouquerie?" "My faith, that's so," he cried, as the speaker came forward. They shook hands. "That donkey yours?" "No; it belongs to this little gal." "Do you know anything about it?" "We've had more than one glass together, and if you want a good donkey I'll speak for him." "I need one and yet I don't need one," said La Rouquerie. "Well, come and take a drink.
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