He stopped and looked at her, and asked her what she ailed.
She knelt down at his feet in the dust.
"Oh, help me!" she cried to him.

"Oh, pray, help me! I have walked all the way from Brussels--that is my country--and now they will not let me pass that house where the soldiers are.

They say I have no papers.

What papers should I have?
I do not know.

When one has done no harm, and does not owe a sou anywhere, and has walked all the way--Is it money that they want?
I have none; and they stole my silver clasps in Brussels; and if I do not get to Paris I must die--die without seeing him again--ever again, dear God!" She dropped her head upon the dust and crouched and sobbed there, her courage broken by this new barrier that she had never dreamed would come between herself and Paris.
The old hawker looked at her thoughtfully.