CHAPTER XVII
POOR VITALIS
WHILE we were in the street Vitalis said not a word, but soon we came to a narrow alley and he sat down on a mile-stone and passed his hand several times across his forehead.
"It may be fine to listen to the voice of generosity," he said, as though speaking to himself, "but now we're in the gutters of Paris, without a sou; not a bite to eat.... Are you hungry?" he asked, looking up at me.
"I haven't eaten anything since that little roll you gave me this morning."
"Poor, poor child, and you'll have to go to bed to-night without supper. And where are we going to sleep?"
"Did you count on sleeping at Garofoli's, then?"
"I counted upon you sleeping there, and as he would have given me twenty francs for you for the winter, I could have managed for the time being. But, seeing the way he treated those children, I could not give you to him."
"Oh, you are so good!"
"Perhaps in this old, hardened vagabond there is still a bit of the young man's heart left. This
