Alas, to the prating indifference and the indolent negligence of men there is only this poor little blind witness.
She stops in front of us and puts out her hand awkwardly.

She is begging! No one troubles himself about her now.

She is talking to her dog; he was born in the castle kennels--Marie told me about him.

He was the last of a litter, ill-shaped, with a head too big, and bad eyes; and the Baroness said, as they were going to drown him, and because she is always thinking of good things, "Give him to the little blind girl." The child is training him to guide her; but he is young, he wants to play when other dogs go by, he hears her with listless ear.
It is difficult for him to begin serious work; and he plucks the string from her hands.

She calls to him; and waits.
Then, during a long time, a good many passers-by appear and vanish.