In lucid moments she has humor. If the Chinese of Belleville in their grocery store or your restaurant to go to work when the carefully dressed office workers are on the way to the metro and young Arabs and Africans in passing loud clapping their hands enough, without getting to see in your eyes, then is it is the best time.
your view is expressionless, her skin is pale and thin, dull hair is uncombed.
"Would you have a coin?" She asks the passer-by with a peculiar intonation, to increase their tone towards the end of the sentence seems more and more.
"I will but not the same as asking for a ticket" added sometimes were a little added coquettishly. Then she smiles and their blackened teeth bared it. These are the good days.
escapes the worse moments of her humor, her little combination. Then she asks the passer flatly and without further ado to a glow have brought some quite modest coins without first a little into the game to.
It is the best proof that a woman always remains a woman. How did she startled me from my daydreams when she first stood before me and with the same gesture as I thought lost in the hair turned. The beggar of Belleville with the tangled hair and the projecting expressionless face, my reflection. I stopped at once and pulled out my wallet. Since then I've never done it, just go past her, so great was the rush sometimes. And that with the many beggars, you ignored every day in Paris.
Another time she asked me for cigarettes. When I replied that I do not smoke, they took the frightened face.
"We see strong that I smoke?" She asked, obviously upset. Even in women who have not the strength or the opportunity to comb the morning, the vanity will never die completely.
your family is looking from doctors who make them sick, she told me. Her mother wants to bewitch.
I wonder if she has an apartment, and whether anyone ever speaks to her except the volatile people on the rue de Belleville, which take a few seconds for them.
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