ece 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.

"You'll see if he isn't cunning," said Grain-of-Salt, holding out his
full glass.

Palikare stretched out his neck, thinned his lips and quickly drank the
half glass of wine.

But this feat did not give La Rouquerie any particular satisfaction.

"I don't want him to drink my wine, but to drag my cart with the rabbit
skins," she said.

"Didn't I just tell you that he came from Greece, draggin' a wagon the
whole way?"

"Ah, that's another thing!"

The strange looking woman carefully examined the animal; then she gave
the greatest attention to every detail; then asked Perrine how much she
wanted for him. The price which Perrine had arranged with her landlord
beforehand was one hundred francs. This was the sum that she asked.

La Rouquerie gave a cry of amazement. One hundred francs! Sell a donkey
without any guarantee for that sum! Were they crazy? Then she began to
find all kind of faults with the unfortunate Palikare.

"Oh, very well," said Grain-of-Salt, after a lengthy discussion; "we'll
take him to the Market."

Perrine breathed. The thought of only getting twenty francs had stunned
her. In their terrible distress what would twenty francs be? A hundred
francs even was not sufficient for their pressing needs.

"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