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+The Project Gutenberg eBook of L’assommoir, by Émile Zola
+
+This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and
+most other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions
+whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms
+of the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at
+www.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the United States, you
+will have to check the laws of the country where you are located before
+using this eBook.
+
+Title: L’assommoir
+
+Author: Émile Zola
+
+Release Date: July 27, 2003 [eBook #8600]
+[Last updated: September 15, 2022]
+
+Language: English
+
+Character set encoding: UTF-8
+
+Produced by: John Bickers, Dagny and David Widger
+
+*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK L’ASSOMMOIR ***
+
+
+
+
+L'ASSOMMOIR
+
+By Émile Zola
+
+
+CONTENTS
+
+ CHAPTER I.
+ CHAPTER II.
+ CHAPTER III.
+ CHAPTER IV.
+ CHAPTER V.
+ CHAPTER VI.
+ CHAPTER VII.
+ CHAPTER VIII
+ CHAPTER IX
+ CHAPTER X
+ CHAPTER XI
+ CHAPTER XII
+ CHAPTER XIII
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER I.
+
+
+Gervaise had waited up for Lantier until two in the morning. Then,
+shivering from having remained in a thin loose jacket, exposed to the
+fresh air at the window, she had thrown herself across the bed, drowsy,
+feverish, and her cheeks bathed in tears.
+
+For a week past, on leaving the “Two-Headed Calf,” where they took
+their meals, he had sent her home with the children and never
+reappeared himself till late at night, alleging that he had been in
+search of work. That evening, while watching for his return, she
+thought she had seen him enter the dancing-hall of the “Grand-Balcony,”
+the ten blazing windows of which lighted up with the glare of a
+conflagration the dark expanse of the exterior Boulevards; and five or
+six paces behind him, she had caught sight of little Adele, a
+burnisher, who dined at the same restaurant, swinging her hands, as if
+she had just quitted his arm so as not to pass together under the
+dazzling light of the globes at the door.
+
+When, towards five o’clock, Gervaise awoke, stiff and sore, she broke
+forth into sobs. Lantier had not returned. For the first time he had
+slept away from home. She remained seated on the edge of the bed, under
+the strip of faded chintz, which hung from the rod fastened to the
+ceiling by a piece of string. And slowly, with her eyes veiled by
+tears, she glanced round the wretched lodging, furnished with a walnut
+chest of drawers, minus one drawer, three rush-bottomed chairs, and a
+little greasy table, on which stood a broken water-jug. There had been
+added, for the children, an iron bedstead, which prevented any one
+getting to the chest of drawers, and filled two-thirds of the room.
+Gervaise’s and Lantier’s trunk, wide open, in one corner, displayed its
+emptiness, and a man’s old hat right at the bottom almost buried
+beneath some dirty shirts and socks; whilst, against the walls, above
+the articles of furniture, hung a shawl full of holes, and a pair of
+trousers begrimed with mud, the last rags which the dealers in
+second-hand clothes declined to buy. In the centre of the mantel-piece,
+lying between two odd zinc candle-sticks, was a bundle of pink
+pawn-tickets. It was the best room of the hotel, the first floor room,
+looking on to the Boulevard.
+
+The two children were sleeping side by side, with their heads on the
+same pillow. Claude, aged eight years, was breathing quietly, with his
+little hands thrown outside the coverlet; while Etienne, only four
+years old, was smiling, with one arm round his brother’s neck. And
+bare-footed, without thinking to again put on the old shoes that had
+fallen on the floor, she resumed her position at the window, her eyes
+searching the pavements in the distance.
+
+The hotel was situated on the Boulevard de la Chapelle, to the left of
+the Barriere Poissonniere. It was a building of two stories high,
+painted a red, of the color of wine dregs, up to the second floor, and
+with shutters all rotted by the rain. Over a lamp with starred panes of
+glass, one could manage to read, between the two windows, the words,
+“Hotel Boncoeur, kept by Marsoullier,” painted in big yellow letters,
+several pieces of which the moldering of the plaster had carried away.
+The lamp preventing her seeing, Gervaise raised herself on tiptoe,
+still holding the handkerchief to her lips. She looked to the right,
+towards the Boulevard Rochechouart, where groups of butchers, in aprons
+smeared with blood, were hanging about in front of the
+slaughter-houses; and the fresh breeze wafted occasionally a stench of
+slaughtered beasts. Looking to the left, she scanned a long avenue that
+ended nearly in front of her, where the white mass of the Lariboisiere
+Hospital was then in course of construction. Slowly, from one end of
+the horizon to the other, she followed the octroi wall, behind which
+she sometimes heard, during night time, the shrieks of persons being
+murdered; and she searchingly looked into the remote angles, the dark
+corners, black with humidity and filth, fearing to discern there
+Lantier’s body, stabbed to death.
+
+She looked at the endless gray wall that surrounded the city with its
+belt of desolation. When she raised her eyes higher, she became aware
+of a bright burst of sunlight. The dull hum of the city’s awakening
+already filled the air. Craning her neck to look at the Poissonniere
+gate, she remained for a time watching the constant stream of men,
+horses, and carts which flooded down from the heights of Montmartre and
+La Chapelle, pouring between the two squat octroi lodges. It was like a
+herd of plodding cattle, an endless throng widened by sudden stoppages
+into eddies that spilled off the sidewalks into the street, a steady
+procession of laborers on their way back to work with tools slung over
+their back and a loaf of bread under their arm. This human inundation
+kept pouring down into Paris to be constantly swallowed up. Gervaise
+leaned further out at the risk of falling when she thought she
+recognized Lantier among the throng. She pressed the handkerchief
+tighter against her mouth, as though to push back the pain within her.
+
+The sound of a young and cheerful voice caused her to leave the window.
+
+“So the old man isn’t here, Madame Lantier?”
+
+“Why, no, Monsieur Coupeau,” she replied, trying to smile.
+
+Coupeau, a zinc-worker who occupied a ten franc room on the top floor,
+having seen the door unlocked, had walked in as friends will do.
+
+“You know,” he continued, “I’m now working over there in the hospital.
+What beautiful May weather, isn’t it? The air is rather sharp this
+morning.”
+
+And he looked at Gervaise’s face, red with weeping. When he saw that
+the bed had not been slept in, he shook his head gently; then he went
+to the children’s couch where they were sleeping, looking as rosy as
+cherubs, and, lowering his voice, he said,
+
+“Come, the old man’s not been home, has he? Don’t worry yourself,
+Madame Lantier. He’s very much occupied with politics. When they were
+voting for Eugene Sue the other day, he was acting almost crazy. He has
+very likely spent the night with some friends blackguarding crapulous
+Bonaparte.”
+
+“No, no,” she murmured with an effort. “You don’t think that. I know
+where Lantier is. You see, we have our little troubles like the rest of
+the world!”
+
+Coupeau winked his eye, to indicate he was not a dupe of this
+falsehood; and he went off, after offering to fetch her milk, if she
+did not care to go out: she was a good and courageous woman, and might
+count upon him on any day of trouble.
+
+As soon as he was gone, Gervaise again returned to the window. At the
+Barriere, the tramp of the drove still continued in the morning air:
+locksmiths in short blue blouses, masons in white jackets, house
+painters in overcoats over long smocks. From a distance the crowd
+looked like a chalky smear of neutral hue composed chiefly of faded
+blue and dingy gray. When one of the workers occasionally stopped to
+light his pipe the others kept plodding past him, without sparing a
+laugh or a word to a comrade. With cheeks gray as clay, their eyes were
+continually drawn toward Paris which was swallowing them one by one.
+
+At both corners of the Rue des Poissonniers however, some of the men
+slackened their pace as they neared the doors of the two wine-dealers
+who were taking down their shutters; and, before entering, they stood
+on the edge of the pavement, looking sideways over Paris, with no
+strength in their arms and already inclined for a day of idleness.
+Inside various groups were already buying rounds of drinks, or just
+standing around, forgetting their troubles, crowding up the place,
+coughing, spitting, clearing their throats with sip after sip.
+
+Gervaise was watching Pere Colombe’s wineshop to the left of the
+street, where she thought she had seen Lantier, when a stout woman,
+bareheaded and wearing an apron called to her from the middle of the
+roadway:
+
+“Hey, Madame Lantier, you’re up very early!”
+
+Gervaise leaned out. “Why! It’s you, Madame Boche! Oh! I’ve got a lot
+of work to-day!”
+
+“Yes, things don’t do themselves, do they?”
+
+The conversation continued between roadway and window. Madame Boche was
+concierge of the building where the “Two-Headed Calf” was on the ground
+floor. Gervaise had waited for Lantier more than once in the
+concierge’s lodge, so as not to be alone at table with all the men who
+ate at the restaurant. Madame Boche was going to a tailor who was late
+in mending an overcoat for her husband. She mentioned one of her
+tenants who had come in with a woman the night before and kept
+everybody awake past three in the morning. She looked at Gervaise with
+intense curiosity.
+
+“Is Monsieur Lantier, then, still in bed?” she asked abruptly.
+
+“Yes, he’s asleep,” replied Gervaise, who could not avoid blushing.
+
+Madame Boche saw the tears come into her eyes; and, satisfied no doubt,
+she turned to go, declaring men to be a cursed, lazy set. As she went
+off, she called back:
+
+“It’s this morning you go to the wash-house, isn’t it? I’ve something
+to wash, too. I’ll keep you a place next to me, and we can chat
+together.” Then, as if moved with sudden pity, she added:
+
+“My poor little thing, you had far better not remain there; you’ll take
+harm. You look quite blue with cold.”
+
+Gervaise still obstinately remained at the window during two mortal
+hours, till eight o’clock. Now all the shops had opened. Only a few
+work men were still hurrying along.
+
+The working girls now filled the boulevard: metal polishers, milliners,
+flower sellers, shivering in their thin clothing. In small groups they
+chattered gaily, laughing and glancing here and there. Occasionally
+there would be one girl by herself, thin, pale, serious-faced, picking
+her way along the city wall among the puddles and the filth.
+
+After the working girls, the office clerks came past, breathing upon
+their chilled fingers and munching penny rolls. Some of them are gaunt
+young fellows in ill-fitting suits, their tired eyes still fogged from
+sleep. Others are older men, stooped and tottering, with faces pale and
+drawn from long hours of office work and glancing nervously at their
+watches for fear of arriving late.
+
+In time the Boulevards settle into their usual morning quiet. Old folks
+come out to stroll in the sun. Tired young mothers in bedraggled skirts
+cuddle babies in their arms or sit on a bench to change diapers.
+Children run, squealing and laughing, pushing and shoving.
+
+Then Gervaise felt herself choking, dizzy with anguish, all hopes gone;
+it seemed to her that everything was ended, even time itself, and that
+Lantier would return no more. Her eyes vacantly wandered from the old
+slaughter-house, foul with butchery and with stench, to the new white
+hospital which, through the yawning openings of its ranges of windows,
+disclosed the naked wards, where death was preparing to mow. In front
+of her on the other side of the octroi wall the bright heavens dazzled
+her, with the rising sun which rose higher and higher over the vast
+awaking city.
+
+The young woman was seated on a chair, no longer crying, and with her
+hands abandoned on her lap, when Lantier quietly entered the room.
+
+“It’s you! It’s you!” she cried, rising to throw herself upon his neck.
+
+“Yes, it’s me. What of it?” he replied. “You are not going to begin any
+of your nonsense, I hope!”
+
+He had pushed her aside. Then, with a gesture of ill-humor he threw his
+black felt hat to the chest of drawers. He was a young fellow of
+twenty-six years of age, short and very dark, with a handsome figure,
+and slight moustaches which his hand was always mechanically twirling.
+He wore a workman’s overalls and an old soiled overcoat, which he had
+belted tightly at the waist, and he spoke with a strong Provencal
+accent.
+
+Gervaise, who had fallen back on her chair, gently complained, in short
+sentences: “I’ve not had a wink of sleep. I feared some harm had
+happened to you. Where have you been? Where did you spend the night?
+For heaven’s sake! Don’t do it again, or I shall go crazy. Tell me
+Auguste, where have you been?”
+
+“Where I had business, of course,” he returned shrugging his shoulders.
+“At eight o’clock, I was at La Glaciere, with my friend who is to start
+a hat factory. We sat talking late, so I preferred to sleep there. Now,
+you know, I don’t like being spied upon, so just shut up!”
+
+The young woman recommenced sobbing. The loud voices and the rough
+movements of Lantier, who upset the chairs, had awakened the children.
+They sat up in bed, half naked, disentangling their hair with their
+tiny hands, and, hearing their mother weep, they uttered terrible
+screams, crying also with their scarcely open eyes.
+
+“Ah! there’s the music!” shouted Lantier furiously. “I warn you, I’ll
+take my hook! And it will be for good, this time. You won’t shut up?
+Then, good morning! I’ll return to the place I’ve just come from.”
+
+He had already taken his hat from off the chest of drawers. But
+Gervaise threw herself before him, stammering: “No, no!”
+
+And she hushed the little ones’ tears with her caresses, smoothed their
+hair, and soothed them with soft words. The children, suddenly quieted,
+laughing on their pillow, amused themselves by punching each other. The
+father however, without even taking off his boots, had thrown himself
+on the bed looking worn out, his face bearing signs of having been up
+all night. He did not go to sleep, he lay with his eyes wide open,
+looking round the room.
+
+“It’s a mess here!” he muttered. And after observing Gervaise a moment,
+he malignantly added: “Don’t you even wash yourself now?”
+
+Gervaise was twenty-two, tall and slim with fine features, but she was
+already beginning to show the strain of her hard life. She seemed to
+have aged ten years from the hours of agonized weeping. Lantier’s mean
+remark made her mad.
+
+“You’re not fair,” she said spiritedly. “You well know I do all I can.
+It’s not my fault we find ourselves here. I would like to see you, with
+two children, in a room where there’s not even a stove to heat some
+water. When we arrived in Paris, instead of squandering your money, you
+should have made a home for us at once, as you promised.”
+
+“Listen!” Lantier exploded. “You cracked the nut with me; it doesn’t
+become you to sneer at it now!”
+
+Apparently not listening, Gervaise went on with her own thought. “If we
+work hard we can get out of the hole we’re in. Madame Fauconnier, the
+laundress on Rue Neuve, will start me on Monday. If you work with your
+friend from La Glaciere, in six months we will be doing well. We’ll
+have enough for decent clothes and a place we can call our own. But
+we’ll have to stick with it and work hard.”
+
+Lantier turned over towards the wall, looking greatly bored. Then
+Gervaise lost her temper.
+
+“Yes, that’s it, I know the love of work doesn’t trouble you much.
+You’re bursting with ambition, you want to be dressed like a gentleman.
+You don’t think me nice enough, do you, now that you’ve made me pawn
+all my dresses? Listen, Auguste, I didn’t intend to speak of it, I
+would have waited a bit longer, but I know where you spent the night; I
+saw you enter the ‘Grand-Balcony’ with that trollop Adele. Ah! you
+choose them well! She’s a nice one, she is! She does well to put on the
+airs of a princess! She’s been the ridicule of every man who frequents
+the restaurant.”
+
+At a bound Lantier sprang from the bed. His eyes had become as black as
+ink in his pale face. With this little man, rage blew like a tempest.
+
+“Yes, yes, of every man who frequents the restaurant!” repeated the
+young woman. “Madame Boche intends to give them notice, she and her
+long stick of a sister, because they’ve always a string of men after
+them on the staircase.”
+
+Lantier raised his fists; then, resisting the desire of striking her,
+he seized hold of her by the arms, shook her violently and sent her
+sprawling upon the bed of the children, who recommenced crying. And he
+lay down again, mumbling, like a man resolving on something that he
+previously hesitated to do:
+
+“You don’t know what you’ve done, Gervaise. You’ve made a big mistake;
+you’ll see.”
+
+For an instant the children continued sobbing. Their mother, who
+remained bending over the bed, held them both in her embrace, and kept
+repeating the same words in a monotonous tone of voice.
+
+“Ah! if it weren’t for you! My poor little ones! If it weren’t for you!
+If it weren’t for you!”
+
+Stretched out quietly, his eyes raised to the faded strip of chintz,
+Lantier no longer listened, but seemed to be buried in a fixed idea. He
+remained thus for nearly an hour, without giving way to sleep, in spite
+of the fatigue which weighed his eyelids down.
+
+He finally turned toward Gervaise, his face set hard in determination.
+She had gotten the children up and dressed and had almost finished
+cleaning the room. The room looked, as always, dark and depressing with
+its sooty black ceiling and paper peeling from the damp walls. The
+dilapidated furniture was always streaked and dirty despite frequent
+dustings. Gervaise, devouring her grief, trying to assume a look of
+indifference, hurried over her work.
+
+Lantier watched as she tidied her hair in front of the small mirror
+hanging near the window. While she washed herself he looked at her bare
+arms and shoulders. He seemed to be making comparisons in his mind as
+his lips formed a grimace. Gervaise limped with her right leg, though
+it was scarcely noticeable except when she was tired. To-day, exhausted
+from remaining awake all night, she was supporting herself against the
+wall and dragging her leg.
+
+Neither one spoke, they had nothing more to say. Lantier seemed to be
+waiting, while Gervaise kept busy and tried to keep her countenance
+expressionless. Finally, while she was making a bundle of the dirty
+clothes thrown in a corner, behind the trunk, he at length opened his
+lips and asked:
+
+“What are you doing there? Where are you going?”
+
+She did not answer at first. Then, when he furiously repeated his
+question, she made up her mind, and said:
+
+“I suppose you can see for yourself. I’m going to wash all this. The
+children can’t live in filth.”
+
+He let her pick up two or three handkerchiefs. And, after a fresh
+pause, he resumed: “Have you got any money?”
+
+At these words she stood up and looked him full in the face, without
+leaving go of the children’s dirty clothes, which she held in her hand.
+
+“Money! And where do you think I can have stolen any? You know well
+enough that I got three francs the day before yesterday on my black
+skirt. We’ve lunched twice off it, and money goes quick at the
+pork-butcher’s. No, you may be quite sure I’ve no money. I’ve four sous
+for the wash-house. I don’t have an extra income like some women.”
+
+He let this allusion pass. He had moved off the bed, and was passing in
+review the few rags hanging about the room. He ended by taking up the
+pair of trousers and the shawl, and searching the drawers, he added two
+chemises and a woman’s loose jacket to the parcel; then, he threw the
+whole bundle into Gervaise’s arms, saying:
+
+“Here, go and pop this.”
+
+“Don’t you want me to pop the children as well?” asked she. “Eh! If
+they lent on children, it would be a fine riddance!”
+
+She went to the pawn-place, however. When she returned at the end of
+half an hour, she laid a hundred sou piece on the mantel-shelf, and
+added the ticket to the others, between the two candlesticks.
+
+“That’s what they gave me,” said she. “I wanted six francs, but I
+couldn’t manage it. Oh! they’ll never ruin themselves. And there’s
+always such a crowd there!”
+
+Lantier did not pick up the five franc piece directly. He would rather
+that she got change, so as to leave her some of it. But he decided to
+slip it into his waistcoat pocket, when he noticed a small piece of ham
+wrapped up in paper, and the remains of a loaf on the chest of drawers.
+
+“I didn’t dare go to the milkwoman’s, because we owe her a week,”
+explained Gervaise. “But I shall be back early; you can get some bread
+and some chops whilst I’m away, and then we’ll have lunch. Bring also a
+bottle of wine.”
+
+He did not say no. Their quarrel seemed to be forgotten. The young
+woman was completing her bundle of dirty clothes. But when she went to
+take Lantier’s shirts and socks from the bottom of the trunk, he called
+to her to leave them alone.
+
+“Leave my things, d’ye hear? I don’t want ’em touched!”
+
+“What’s it you don’t want touched?” she asked, rising up. “I suppose
+you don’t mean to put these filthy things on again, do you? They must
+be washed.”
+
+She studied his boyishly handsome face, now so rigid that it seemed
+nothing could ever soften it. He angrily grabbed his things from her
+and threw them back into the trunk, saying:
+
+“Just obey me, for once! I tell you I won’t have ’em touched!”
+
+“But why?” she asked, turning pale, a terrible suspicion crossing her
+mind. “You don’t need your shirts now, you’re not going away. What can
+it matter to you if I take them?”
+
+He hesitated for an instant, embarrassed by the piercing glance she
+fixed upon him. “Why—why—” stammered he, “because you go and tell
+everyone that you keep me, that you wash and mend. Well! It worries me,
+there! Attend to your own business and I’ll attend to mine, washerwomen
+don’t work for dogs.”
+
+She supplicated, she protested she had never complained; but he roughly
+closed the trunk and sat down upon it, saying, “No!” to her face. He
+could surely do as he liked with what belonged to him! Then, to escape
+from the inquiring looks she leveled at him, he went and laid down on
+the bed again, saying that he was sleepy, and requesting her not to
+make his head ache with any more of her row. This time indeed, he
+seemed to fall asleep. Gervaise, for a while, remained undecided. She
+was tempted to kick the bundle of dirty clothes on one side, and to sit
+down and sew. But Lantier’s regular breathing ended by reassuring her.
+She took the ball of blue and the piece of soap remaining from her last
+washing, and going up to the little ones who were quietly playing with
+some old corks in front of the window, she kissed them, and said in a
+low voice:
+
+“Be very good, don’t make any noise; papa’s asleep.”
+
+When she left the room, Claude’s and Etienne’s gentle laughter alone
+disturbed the great silence beneath the blackened ceiling. It was ten
+o’clock. A ray of sunshine entered by the half open window.
+
+On the Boulevard, Gervaise turned to the left, and followed the Rue
+Neuve de la Goutte-d’Or. As she passed Madame Fauconnier’s shop, she
+slightly bowed her head. The wash-house she was bound for was situated
+towards the middle of the street, at the part where the roadway
+commenced to ascend.
+
+The rounded, gray contours of the three large zinc wash tanks, studded
+with rivets, rose above the flat-roofed building. Behind them was the
+drying room, a high second story, closed in on all sides by
+narrow-slatted lattices so that the air could circulate freely, and
+through which laundry could be seen hanging on brass wires. The steam
+engine’s smokestack exhaled puffs of white smoke to the right of the
+water tanks.
+
+Gervaise was used to puddles and did not bother to tuck her skirts up
+before making her way through the doorway, which was cluttered with
+jars of bleaching water. She was already acquainted with the mistress
+of the wash-house, a delicate little woman with red, inflamed eyes, who
+sat in a small glazed closet with account books in front of her, bars
+of soap on shelves, balls of blue in glass bowls, and pounds of soda
+done up in packets; and, as she passed, she asked for her beetle and
+her scouring-brush, which she had left to be taken care of the last
+time she had done her washing there. Then, after obtaining her number,
+she entered the wash-house.
+
+It was an immense shed, with large clear windows, and a flat ceiling,
+showing the beams supported on cast-iron pillars. Pale rays of light
+passed through the hot steam, which remained suspended like a milky
+fog. Smoke arose from certain corners, spreading about and covering the
+recesses with a bluish veil. A heavy moisture hung around, impregnated
+with a soapy odor, a damp insipid smell, continuous though at moments
+overpowered by the more potent fumes of the chemicals. Along the
+washing-places, on either side of the central alley, were rows of
+women, with bare arms and necks, and skirts tucked up, showing colored
+stockings and heavy lace-up shoes. They were beating furiously,
+laughing, leaning back to call out a word in the midst of the din, or
+stooping over their tubs, all of them brutal, ungainly, foul of speech,
+and soaked as though by a shower, with their flesh red and reeking.
+
+All around the women continuously flowed a river from hot-water buckets
+emptied with a sudden splash, cold-water faucets left dripping, soap
+suds spattering, and the dripping from rinsed laundry which was hung
+up. It splashed their feet and drained away across the sloping
+flagstones. The din of the shouting and the rhythmic beating was joined
+by the patter of steady dripping. It was slightly muffled by the
+moisture-soaked ceiling. Meanwhile, the steam engine could be heard as
+it puffed and snorted ceaselessly while cloaked in its white mist. The
+dancing vibration of its flywheel seemed to regulate the volume of the
+noisy turbulence.
+
+Gervaise passed slowly along the alley, looking to the right and left,
+carrying her laundry bundle under one arm, with one hip thrust high and
+limping more than usual. She was jostled by several women in the
+hubbub.
+
+“This way, my dear!” cried Madame Boche, in her loud voice. Then, when
+the young woman had joined her at the very end on the left, the
+concierge, who was furiously rubbing a dirty sock, began to talk
+incessantly, without leaving off her work. “Put your things there, I’ve
+kept your place. Oh, I sha’n’t be long over what I’ve got. Boche
+scarcely dirties his things at all. And you, you won’t be long either,
+will you? Your bundle’s quite a little one. Before twelve o’clock we
+shall have finished, and we can go off to lunch. I used to send my
+things to a laundress in the Rue Poulet, but she destroyed everything
+with her chlorine and her brushes; so now I do the washing myself. It’s
+so much saved; it only costs the soap. I say, you should have put those
+shirts to soak. Those little rascals of children, on my word! One would
+think their bodies were covered with soot.”
+
+Gervaise, having undone her bundle, was spreading out the little ones’
+shirts, and as Madame Boche advised her to take a pailful of lye, she
+answered, “Oh, no! warm water will do. I’m used to it.” She had sorted
+her laundry with several colored pieces to one side. Then, after
+filling her tub with four pails of cold water from the tap behind her,
+she plunged her pile of whites into it.
+
+“You’re used to it?” repeated Madame Boche. “You were a washerwoman in
+your native place, weren’t you, my dear?”
+
+Gervaise, with her sleeves pushed back, displayed the graceful arms of
+a young blonde, as yet scarcely reddened at the elbows, and started
+scrubbing her laundry. She spread a shirt out on the narrow rubbing
+board which was water-bleached and eroded by years of use. She rubbed
+soap into the shirt, turned it over, and soaped the other side. Before
+replying to Madame Boche she grasped her beetle and began to pound away
+so that her shouted phrases were punctuated with loud and rhythmic
+thumps.
+
+“Yes, yes, a washerwoman—When I was ten—That’s twelve years ago—We used
+to go to the river—It smelt nicer there than it does here—You should
+have seen, there was a nook under the trees, with clear running
+water—You know, at Plassans—Don’t you know Plassans?—It’s near
+Marseilles.”
+
+“How you go at it!” exclaimed Madame Boche, amazed at the strength of
+her blows. “You could flatten out a piece of iron with your little
+lady-like arms.”
+
+The conversation continued in a very high volume. At times, the
+concierge, not catching what was said, was obliged to lean forward. All
+the linen was beaten, and with a will! Gervaise plunged it into the tub
+again, and then took it out once more, each article separately, to rub
+it over with soap a second time and brush it. With one hand she held
+the article firmly on the plank; with the other, which grasped the
+short couch-grass brush, she extracted from the linen a dirty lather,
+which fell in long drips. Then, in the slight noise caused by the
+brush, the two women drew together, and conversed in a more intimate
+way.
+
+“No, we’re not married,” resumed Gervaise. “I don’t hide it. Lantier
+isn’t so nice for any one to care to be his wife. If it weren’t for the
+children! I was fourteen and he was eighteen when we had our first one.
+It happened in the usual way, you know how it is. I wasn’t happy at
+home. Old man Macquart would kick me in the tail whenever he felt like
+it, for no reason at all. I had to have some fun outside. We might have
+been married, but—I forget why—our parents wouldn’t consent.”
+
+She shook her hands, which were growing red in the white suds. “The
+water’s awfully hard in Paris.”
+
+Madame Boche was now washing only very slowly. She kept leaving off,
+making her work last as long as she could, so as to remain there, to
+listen to that story, which her curiosity had been hankering to know
+for a fortnight past. Her mouth was half open in the midst of her big,
+fat face; her eyes, which were almost at the top of her head, were
+gleaming. She was thinking, with the satisfaction of having guessed
+right.
+
+“That’s it, the little one gossips too much. There’s been a row.”
+
+Then, she observed out loud, “He isn’t nice, then?”
+
+“Don’t mention it!” replied Gervaise. “He used to behave very well in
+the country; but, since we’ve been in Paris, he’s been unbearable. I
+must tell you that his mother died last year and left him some
+money—about seventeen hundred francs. He would come to Paris, so, as
+old Macquart was forever knocking me about without warning, I consented
+to come away with him. We made the journey with two children. He was to
+set me up as a laundress, and work himself at his trade of a hatter. We
+should have been very happy; but, you see, Lantier’s ambitious and a
+spendthrift, a fellow who only thinks of amusing himself. In short,
+he’s not worth much. On arriving, we went to the Hotel Montmartre, in
+the Rue Montmartre. And then there were dinners, and cabs, and the
+theatre; a watch for himself and a silk dress for me, for he’s not
+unkind when he’s got the money. You understand, he went in for
+everything, and so well that at the end of two months we were cleaned
+out. It was then that we came to live at the Hotel Boncoeur, and that
+this horrible life began.”
+
+She interrupted herself. A lump had suddenly risen in her throat, and
+she could scarcely restrain her tears. She had finished brushing the
+things.
+
+“I must go and fetch my hot water,” she murmured.
+
+But Madame Boche, greatly disappointed at this break off in the
+disclosures, called to the wash-house boy, who was passing, “My little
+Charles, kindly get madame a pail of hot water; she’s in a hurry.”
+
+The youth took the bucket and brought it back filled. Gervaise paid
+him; it was a sou the pailful. She poured the hot water into the tub,
+and soaped the things a last time with her hands, leaning over them in
+a mass of steam, which deposited small beads of grey vapor in her light
+hair.
+
+“Here put some soda in, I’ve got some by me,” said the concierge,
+obligingly.
+
+And she emptied into Gervaise’s tub what remained of a bag of soda
+which she had brought with her. She also offered her some of the
+chemical water, but the young woman declined it; it was only good for
+grease and wine stains.
+
+“I think he’s rather a loose fellow,” resumed Madame Boche, returning
+to Lantier, but without naming him.
+
+Gervaise, bent almost double, her hands all shriveled, and thrust in
+amongst the clothes, merely tossed her head.
+
+“Yes, yes,” continued the other, “I have noticed several little
+things—” But she suddenly interrupted herself, as Gervaise jumped up,
+with a pale face, and staring wildly at her. Then she exclaimed, “Oh,
+no! I don’t know anything! He likes to laugh a bit, I think, that’s
+all. For instance, you know the two girls who lodge at my place, Adele
+and Virginie. Well, he larks about with ’em, but he just flirts for
+sport.”
+
+The young woman standing before her, her face covered with
+perspiration, the water dripping from her arms, continued to stare at
+her with a fixed and penetrating look. Then the concierge got excited,
+giving herself a blow on the chest, and pledging her word of honor, she
+cried:
+
+“I know nothing, I mean it when I say so!”
+
+Then calming herself, she added in a gentle voice, as if speaking to a
+person on whom loud protestations would have no effect, “I think he has
+a frank look about the eyes. He’ll marry you, my dear, I’m sure of it.”
+
+Gervaise wiped her forehead with her wet hand. Shaking her head again,
+she pulled another garment out of the water. Both of them kept silence
+for a moment. The wash-house was quieting down, for eleven o’clock had
+struck. Half of the washerwomen were perched on the edge of their tubs,
+eating sausages between slices of bread and drinking from open bottles
+of wine. Only housewives who had come to launder small bundles of
+family linen were hurrying to finish.
+
+Occasional beetle blows could still be heard amid the subdued laughter
+and gossip half-choked by the greedy chewing of jawbones. The steam
+engine never stopped. Its vibrant, snorting voice seemed to fill the
+entire hall, though not one of the women even heard it. It was like the
+breathing of the wash-house, its hot breath collecting under the
+ceiling rafters in an eternal floating mist.
+
+The heat was becoming intolerable. Through the tall windows on the left
+sunlight was streaming in, touching the steamy vapors with opalescent
+tints of soft pinks and grayish blues. Charles went from window to
+window, letting down the heavy canvas awnings. Then he crossed to the
+shady side to open the ventilators. He was applauded by cries and hand
+clapping and a rough sort of gaiety spread around. Soon even the last
+of the beetle-pounding stopped.
+
+With full mouths, the washerwomen could only make gestures. It became
+so quiet that the grating sound of the fireman shoveling coal into the
+engine’s firebox could be heard at regular intervals from far at the
+other end.
+
+Gervaise was washing her colored things in the hot water thick with
+lather, which she had kept for the purpose. When she had finished, she
+drew a trestle towards her and hung across it all the different
+articles; the drippings from which made bluish puddles on the floor;
+and she commenced rinsing. Behind her, the cold water tap was set
+running into a vast tub fixed to the ground, and across which were two
+wooden bars whereon to lay the clothes. High up in the air were two
+other bars for the things to finish dripping on.
+
+“We’re almost finished, and not a bad job,” said Madame Boche. “I’ll
+wait and help you wring all that.”
+
+“Oh! it’s not worth while; I’m much obliged though,” replied the young
+woman, who was kneading with her hands and sousing the colored things
+in some clean water. “If I’d any sheets, it would be another thing.”
+
+But she had, however, to accept the concierge’s assistance. They were
+wringing between them, one at each end, a woolen skirt of a washed-out
+chestnut color, from which dribbled a yellowish water, when Madame
+Boche exclaimed:
+
+“Why, there’s tall Virginie! What has she come here to wash, when all
+her wardrobe that isn’t on her would go into a pocket handkerchief?”
+
+Gervaise jerked her head up. Virginie was a girl of her own age, taller
+than she was, dark and pretty in spite of her face being rather long
+and narrow. She had on an old black dress with flounces, and a red
+ribbon round her neck; and her hair was done up carefully, the chignon
+being enclosed in a blue silk net. She stood an instant in the middle
+of the central alley, screwing up her eyes as though seeking someone;
+then, when she caught sight of Gervaise, she passed close to her,
+erect, insolent, and with a swinging gait, and took a place in the same
+row, five tubs away from her.
+
+“There’s a freak for you!” continued Madame Boche in a lower tone of
+voice. “She never does any laundry, not even a pair of cuffs. A
+seamstress who doesn’t even sew on a loose button! She’s just like her
+sister, the brass burnisher, that hussy Adele, who stays away from her
+job two days out of three. Nobody knows who their folks are or how they
+make a living. Though, if I wanted to talk . . . What on earth is she
+scrubbing there? A filthy petticoat. I’ll wager it’s seen some lovely
+sights, that petticoat!”
+
+Madame Boche was evidently trying to make herself agreeable to
+Gervaise. The truth was she often took a cup of coffee with Adele and
+Virginia, when the girls had any money. Gervaise did not answer, but
+hurried over her work with feverish hands. She had just prepared her
+blue in a little tub that stood on three legs. She dipped in the linen
+things, and shook them an instant at the bottom of the colored water,
+the reflection of which had a pinky tinge; and after wringing them
+lightly, she spread them out on the wooden bars up above. During the
+time she was occupied with this work, she made a point of turning her
+back on Virginie. But she heard her chuckles; she could feel her
+sidelong glances. Virginie appeared only to have come there to provoke
+her. At one moment, Gervaise having turned around, they both stared
+into each other’s faces.
+
+“Leave her alone,” whispered Madame Boche. “You’re not going to pull
+each other’s hair out, I hope. When I tell you there’s nothing to it!
+It isn’t her, anyhow!”
+
+At this moment, as the young woman was hanging up the last article of
+clothing, there was a sound of laughter at the door of the wash-house.
+
+“Here are two brats who want their mamma!” cried Charles.
+
+All the women leant forward. Gervaise recognized Claude and Etienne. As
+soon as they caught sight of her, they ran to her through the puddles,
+the heels of their unlaced shoes resounding on the flagstones. Claude,
+the eldest, held his little brother by the hand. The women, as they
+passed them, uttered little exclamations of affection as they noticed
+their frightened though smiling faces. And they stood there, in front
+of their mother, without leaving go of each other’s hands, and holding
+their fair heads erect.
+
+“Has papa sent you?” asked Gervaise.
+
+But as she stooped to tie the laces of Etienne’s shoes, she saw the key
+of their room on one of Claude’s fingers, with the brass number hanging
+from it.
+
+“Why, you’ve brought the key!” she said, greatly surprised. “What’s
+that for?”
+
+The child, seeing the key which he had forgotten on his finger,
+appeared to recollect, and exclaimed in his clear voice:
+
+“Papa’s gone away.”
+
+“He’s gone to buy the lunch, and told you to come here to fetch me?”
+
+Claude looked at his brother, hesitated, no longer recollecting. Then
+he resumed all in a breath: “Papa’s gone away. He jumped off the bed,
+he put all the things in the trunk, he carried the trunk down to a cab.
+He’s gone away.”
+
+Gervaise, who was squatting down, slowly rose to her feet, her face
+ghastly pale. She put her hands to her cheeks and temples, as though
+she felt her head was breaking; and she could find only these words,
+which she repeated twenty times in the same tone of voice:
+
+“Ah! good heavens!—ah! good heavens!—ah! good heavens!”
+
+Madame Boche, however, also questioned the child, quite delighted at
+the chance of hearing the whole story.
+
+“Come, little one, you must tell us just what happened. It was he who
+locked the door and who told you to bring the key, wasn’t it?” And,
+lowering her voice, she whispered in Claude’s ear: “Was there a lady in
+the cab?”
+
+The child again got confused. Then he recommenced his story in a
+triumphant manner: “He jumped off the bed, he put all the things in the
+trunk. He’s gone away.”
+
+Then, when Madame Boche let him go, he drew his brother in front of the
+tap, and they amused themselves by turning on the water. Gervaise was
+unable to cry. She was choking, leaning back against her tub, her face
+still buried in her hands. Brief shudders rocked her body and she
+wailed out long sighs while pressing her hands tighter against her
+eyes, as though abandoning herself to the blackness of desolation, a
+dark, deep pit into which she seemed to be falling.
+
+“Come, my dear, pull yourself together!” murmured Madame Boche.
+
+“If you only knew! If you only knew!” said she at length very faintly.
+“He sent me this morning to pawn my shawl and my chemises to pay for
+that cab.”
+
+And she burst out crying. The memory of the events of that morning and
+of her trip to the pawn-place tore from her the sobs that had been
+choking her throat. That abominable trip to the pawn-place was the
+thing that hurt most in all her sorrow and despair. Tears were
+streaming down her face but she didn’t think of using her handkerchief.
+
+“Be reasonable, do be quiet, everyone’s looking at you,” Madame Boche,
+who hovered round her, kept repeating. “How can you worry yourself so
+much on account of a man? You loved him, then, all the same, did you,
+my poor darling? A little while ago you were saying all sorts of things
+against him; and now you’re crying for him, and almost breaking your
+heart. Dear me, how silly we all are!”
+
+Then she became quite maternal.
+
+“A pretty little woman like you! Can it be possible? One may tell you
+everything now, I suppose. Well! You recollect when I passed under your
+window, I already had my suspicions. Just fancy, last night, when Adele
+came home, I heard a man’s footsteps with hers. So I thought I would
+see who it was. I looked up the staircase. The fellow was already on
+the second landing; but I certainly recognized Monsieur Lantier’s
+overcoat. Boche, who was on the watch this morning, saw him tranquilly
+nod adieu. He was with Adele, you know. Virginie has a situation now,
+where she goes twice a week. Only it’s highly imprudent all the same,
+for they’ve only one room and an alcove, and I can’t very well say
+where Virginie managed to sleep.”
+
+She interrupted herself an instant, turned round, and then resumed,
+subduing her loud voice:
+
+“She’s laughing at seeing you cry, that heartless thing over there. I’d
+stake my life that her washing’s all a pretence. She’s packed off the
+other two, and she’s come here so as to tell them how you take it.”
+
+Gervaise removed her hands from her face and looked. When she beheld
+Virginie in front of her, amidst three or four women, speaking low and
+staring at her, she was seized with a mad rage. Her arms in front of
+her, searching the ground, she stumbled forward a few paces. Trembling
+all over, she found a bucket full of water, grabbed it with both hands,
+and emptied it at Virginie.
+
+“The virago!” yelled tall Virginie.
+
+She had stepped back, and her boots alone got wet. The other women, who
+for some minutes past had all been greatly upset by Gervaise’s tears,
+jostled each other in their anxiety to see the fight. Some, who were
+finishing their lunch, got on the tops of their tubs. Others hastened
+forward, their hands smothered with soap. A ring was formed.
+
+“Ah! the virago!” repeated tall Virginie. “What’s the matter with her?
+She’s mad!”
+
+Gervaise, standing on the defensive, her chin thrust out, her features
+convulsed, said nothing, not having yet acquired the Paris gift of
+street gab. The other continued:
+
+“Get out! This girl’s tired of wallowing about in the country; she
+wasn’t twelve years old when the soldiers were at her. She even lost
+her leg serving her country. That leg’s rotting off.”
+
+The lookers-on burst out laughing. Virginie, seeing her success,
+advanced a couple of steps, drawing herself up to her full height, and
+yelling louder than ever:
+
+“Here! Come a bit nearer, just to see how I’ll settle you! Don’t you
+come annoying us here. Do I even know her, the hussy? If she’d wetted
+me, I’d have pretty soon shown her battle, as you’d have seen. Let her
+just say what I’ve ever done to her. Speak, you vixen; what’s been done
+to you?”
+
+“Don’t talk so much,” stammered Gervaise. “You know well enough. Some
+one saw my husband last night. And shut up, because if you don’t I’ll
+most certainly strangle you.”
+
+“Her husband! That’s a good one! As if cripples like her had husbands!
+If he’s left you it’s not my fault. Surely you don’t think I’ve stolen
+him, do you? He was much too good for you and you made him sick. Did
+you keep him on a leash? Has anyone here seen her husband? There’s a
+reward.”
+
+The laughter burst forth again. Gervaise contented herself with
+continually murmuring in a low tone of voice:
+
+“You know well enough, you know well enough. It’s your sister. I’ll
+strangle her—your sister.”
+
+“Yes, go and try it on with my sister,” resumed Virginie sneeringly.
+“Ah! it’s my sister! That’s very likely. My sister looks a trifle
+different to you; but what’s that to me? Can’t one come and wash one’s
+clothes in peace now? Just dry up, d’ye hear, because I’ve had enough
+of it!”
+
+But it was she who returned to the attack, after giving five or six
+strokes with her beetle, intoxicated by the insults she had been giving
+utterance to, and worked up into a passion. She left off and
+recommenced again, speaking in this way three times:
+
+“Well, yes! it’s my sister. There now, does that satisfy you? They
+adore each other. You should just see them bill and coo! And he’s left
+you with your children. Those pretty kids with scabs all over their
+faces! You got one of them from a gendarme, didn’t you? And you let
+three others die because you didn’t want to pay excess baggage on your
+journey. It’s your Lantier who told us that. Ah! he’s been telling some
+fine things; he’d had enough of you!”
+
+“You dirty jade! You dirty jade! You dirty jade!” yelled Gervaise,
+beside herself, and again seized with a furious trembling. She turned
+round, looking once more about the ground; and only observing the
+little tub, she seized hold of it by the legs, and flung the whole of
+the bluing at Virginie’s face.
+
+“The beast! She’s spoilt my dress!” cried the latter, whose shoulder
+was sopping wet and whose left hand was dripping blue. “Just wait, you
+wretch!”
+
+In her turn she seized a bucket, and emptied it over Gervaise. Then a
+formidable battle began. They both ran along the rows of tubs, seized
+hold of the pails that were full, and returned to dash the contents at
+each other’s heads. And each deluge was accompanied by a volley of
+words. Gervaise herself answered now:
+
+“There, you scum! You got it that time. It’ll help to cool you.”
+
+“Ah! the carrion! That’s for your filth. Wash yourself for once in your
+life.”
+
+“Yes, yes, I’ll wash the salt out of you, you cod!”
+
+“Another one! Brush your teeth, fix yourself up for your post to-night
+at the corner of the Rue Belhomme.”
+
+They ended by having to refill the buckets at the water taps,
+continuing to insult each other the while. The initial bucketfuls were
+so poorly aimed as to scarcely reach their targets, but they soon began
+to splash each other in earnest. Virginie was the first to receive a
+bucketful in the face. The water ran down, soaking her back and front.
+She was still staggering when another caught her from the side, hitting
+her left ear and drenching her chignon which then came unwound into a
+limp, bedraggled string of hair.
+
+Gervaise was hit first in the legs. One pail filled her shoes full of
+water and splashed up to her thighs. Two more wet her even higher. Soon
+both of them were soaked from top to bottom and it was impossible to
+count the hits. Their clothes were plastered to their bodies and they
+looked shrunken. Water was dripping everywhere as from umbrellas in a
+rainstorm.
+
+“They look jolly funny!” said the hoarse voice of one of the women.
+
+Everyone in the wash-house was highly amused. A good space was left to
+the combatants, as nobody cared to get splashed. Applause and jokes
+circulated in the midst of the sluice-like noise of the buckets emptied
+in rapid succession! On the floor the puddles were running one into
+another, and the two women were wading in them up to their ankles.
+Virginie, however, who had been meditating a treacherous move, suddenly
+seized hold of a pail of lye, which one of her neighbors had left there
+and threw it. The same cry arose from all. Everyone thought Gervaise
+was scalded; but only her left foot had been slightly touched. And,
+exasperated by the pain, she seized a bucket, without troubling herself
+to fill it this time, and threw it with all her might at the legs of
+Virginie, who fell to the ground. All the women spoke together.
+
+“She’s broken one of her limbs!”
+
+“Well, the other tried to cook her!”
+
+“She’s right, after all, the blonde one, if her man’s been taken from
+her!”
+
+Madame Boche held up her arms to heaven, uttering all sorts of
+exclamations. She had prudently retreated out of the way between two
+tubs; and the children, Claude and Etienne, crying, choking, terrified,
+clung to her dress with the continuous cry of “Mamma! Mamma!” broken by
+their sobs. When she saw Virginie fall she hastened forward, and tried
+to pull Gervaise away by her skirt, repeating the while,
+
+“Come now, go home! Be reasonable. On my word, it’s quite upset me.
+Never was such a butchery seen before.”
+
+But she had to draw back and seek refuge again between the two tubs,
+with the children. Virginie had just flown at Gervaise’s throat. She
+squeezed her round the neck, trying to strangle her. The latter freed
+herself with a violent jerk, and in her turn hung on to the other’s
+hair, as though she was trying to pull her head off. The battle was
+silently resumed, without a cry, without an insult. They did not seize
+each other round the body, they attacked each other’s faces with open
+hands and clawing fingers, pinching, scratching whatever they caught
+hold of. The tall, dark girl’s red ribbon and blue silk hair net were
+torn off. The body of her dress, giving way at the neck, displayed a
+large portion of her shoulder; whilst the blonde, half stripped, a
+sleeve gone from her loose white jacket without her knowing how, had a
+rent in her underlinen, which exposed to view the naked line of her
+waist. Shreds of stuff flew in all directions. It was from Gervaise
+that the first blood was drawn, three long scratches from the mouth to
+the chin; and she sought to protect her eyes, shutting them at every
+grab the other made, for fear of having them torn out. No blood showed
+on Virginie as yet. Gervaise aimed at her ears, maddened at not being
+able to reach them. At length she succeeded in seizing hold of one of
+the earrings—an imitation pear in yellow glass—which she pulled out and
+slit the ear, and the blood flowed.
+
+“They’re killing each other! Separate them, the vixens!” exclaimed
+several voices.
+
+The other women had drawn nearer. They formed themselves into two
+camps. Some were cheering the combatants on as the others were
+trembling and turning their heads away saying that it was making them
+sick. A large fight nearly broke out between the two camps as the women
+called each other names and brandished their fists threateningly. Three
+loud slaps rang out.
+
+Madame Boche, meanwhile, was trying to discover the wash-house boy.
+
+“Charles! Charles! Wherever has he got to?”
+
+And she found him in the front rank, looking on with his arms folded.
+He was a big fellow, with an enormous neck. He was laughing and
+enjoying the sight of the skin which the two women displayed. The
+little blonde was as fat as a quail. It would be fun if her chemise
+burst open.
+
+“Why,” murmured he, blinking his eye, “she’s got a strawberry birthmark
+under her arm.”
+
+“What! You’re there!” cried Madame Boche, as she caught sight of him.
+“Just come and help us separate them. You can easily separate them, you
+can!”
+
+“Oh, no! thank you, not if I know it,” said he coolly. “To get my eye
+scratched like I did the other day, I suppose! I’m not here for that
+sort of thing; I have enough to do without that. Don’t be afraid, a
+little bleeding does ’em good; it’ll soften ’em.”
+
+The concierge then talked of fetching the police; but the mistress of
+the wash-house, the delicate young woman with the red, inflamed eyes,
+would not allow her to do this. She kept saying:
+
+“No, no, I won’t; it’ll compromise my establishment.”
+
+The struggle on the ground continued. All on a sudden, Virginie raised
+herself up on her knees. She had just gotten hold of a beetle and held
+it on high. She had a rattle in her throat and in an altered voice, she
+exclaimed,
+
+“Here’s something that’ll settle you! Get your dirty linen ready!”
+
+Gervaise quickly thrust out her hand, and also seized a beetle, and
+held it up like a club; and she too spoke in a choking voice,
+
+“Ah! you want to wash. Let me get hold of your skin that I may beat it
+into dish-cloths!”
+
+For a moment they remained there, on their knees, menacing each other.
+Their hair all over their faces, their breasts heaving, muddy, swelling
+with rage, they watched one another, as they waited and took breath.
+Gervaise gave the first blow. Her beetle glided off Virginie’s
+shoulder, and she at once threw herself on one side to avoid the
+latter’s beetle, which grazed her hip. Then, warming to their work they
+struck at each other like washerwomen beating clothes, roughly, and in
+time. Whenever there was a hit, the sound was deadened, so that one
+might have thought it a blow in a tub full of water. The other women
+around them no longer laughed. Several had gone off saying that it
+quite upset them; those who remained stretched out their necks, their
+eyes lighted up with a gleam of cruelty, admiring the pluck displayed.
+Madame Boche had led Claude and Etienne away, and one could hear at the
+other end of the building the sound of their sobs, mingled with the
+sonorous shocks of the two beetles. But Gervaise suddenly yelled.
+Virginie had caught her a whack with all her might on her bare arm,
+just above the elbow. A large red mark appeared, the flesh at once
+began to swell. Then she threw herself upon Virginie, and everyone
+thought she was going to beat her to death.
+
+“Enough! Enough!” was cried on all sides.
+
+Her face bore such a terrible expression, that no one dared approach
+her. Her strength seemed to have increased tenfold. She seized Virginie
+round the waist, bent her down and pressed her face against the
+flagstones. Raising her beetle she commenced beating as she used to
+beat at Plassans, on the banks of the Viorne, when her mistress washed
+the clothes of the garrison. The wood seemed to yield to the flesh with
+a damp sound. At each whack a red weal marked the white skin.
+
+“Oh, oh!” exclaimed the boy Charles, opening his eyes to their full
+extent and gloating over the sight.
+
+Laughter again burst forth from the lookers-on, but soon the cry,
+“Enough! Enough!” recommenced. Gervaise heard not, neither did she
+tire. She examined her work, bent over it, anxious not to leave a dry
+place. She wanted to see the whole of that skin beaten, covered with
+contusions. And she talked, seized with a ferocious gaiety, recalling a
+washerwoman’s song,
+
+“Bang! Bang! Margot at her tub.
+Bang! Bang! Beating rub-a-dub.
+Bang! Bang! Tries to wash her heart.
+Bang! Bang! Black with grief to part.”
+
+
+And then she resumed,
+
+“That’s for you, that’s for your sister.
+That’s for Lantier.
+When you next see them,
+You can give them that.
+Attention! I’m going to begin again.
+That’s for Lantier, that’s for your sister.
+That’s for you.
+Bang! Bang! Margot at her tub.
+Bang! Bang! Beating rub-a-dub—”
+
+
+The others were obliged to drag Virginie away from her. The tall, dark
+girl, her face bathed in tears and purple with shame, picked up her
+things and hastened away. She was vanquished. Gervaise slipped on the
+sleeve of her jacket again, and fastened up her petticoats. Her arm
+pained her a good deal, and she asked Madame Boche to place her bundle
+of clothes on her shoulder. The concierge referred to the battle, spoke
+of her emotions, and talked of examining the young woman’s person, just
+to see.
+
+“You may, perhaps, have something broken. I heard a tremendous blow.”
+
+But Gervaise wanted to go home. She made no reply to the pitying
+remarks and noisy ovation of the other women who surrounded her, erect
+in their aprons. When she was laden she gained the door, where the
+children awaited her.
+
+“Two hours, that makes two sous,” said the mistress of the wash-house,
+already back at her post in the glazed closet.
+
+Why two sous? She no longer understood that she was asked to pay for
+her place there. Then she gave the two sous; and limping very much
+beneath the weight of the wet clothes on her shoulder, the water
+dripping from off her, her elbow black and blue, her cheek covered with
+blood, she went off, dragging Claude and Etienne with her bare arms,
+whilst they trotted along on either side of her, still trembling, and
+their faces besmeared with their tears.
+
+Once she was gone, the wash-house resumed its roaring tumult. The
+washerwomen had eaten their bread and drunk their wine. Their faces
+were lit up and their spirits enlivened by the fight between Gervaise
+and Virginie.
+
+The long lines of tubs were astir again with the fury of thrashing
+arms, of craggy profiles, of marionettes with bent backs and slumping
+shoulders that twisted and jerked violently as though on hinges.
+Conversations went on from one end to the other in loud voices.
+Laughter and coarse remarks crackled through the ceaseless gurgling of
+the water. Faucets were sputtering, buckets spilling, rivulets flowing
+underneath the rows of washboards. Throughout the huge shed rising
+wisps of steam reflected a reddish tint, pierced here and there by
+disks of sunlight, golden globes that had leaked through holes in the
+awnings. The air was stiflingly warm and odorous with soap.
+
+Suddenly the hall was filled with a white mist. The huge copper lid of
+the lye-water kettle was rising mechanically along a notched shaft, and
+from the gaping copper hollow within its wall of bricks came whirling
+clouds of vapor. Meanwhile, at one side the drying machines were hard
+at work; within their cast-iron cylinders bundles of laundry were being
+wrung dry by the centrifugal force of the steam engine, which was still
+puffing, steaming, jolting the wash-house with the ceaseless labor of
+its iron limbs.
+
+When Gervaise turned into the entry of the Hotel Boncoeur, her tears
+again mastered her. It was a dark, narrow passage, with a gutter for
+the dirty water running alongside the wall; and the stench which she
+again encountered there caused her to think of the fortnight she had
+passed in the place with Lantier—a fortnight of misery and quarrels,
+the recollection of which was now a bitter regret. It seemed to bring
+her abandonment home to her.
+
+Upstairs the room was bare, in spite of the sunshine which entered
+through the open window. That blaze of light, that kind of dancing
+golden dust, exposed the lamentable condition of the blackened ceiling,
+and of the walls half denuded of paper, all the more. The only thing
+left hanging in the room was a woman’s small neckerchief, twisted like
+a piece of string. The children’s bedstead, drawn into the middle of
+the apartment, displayed the chest of drawers, the open drawers of
+which exposed their emptiness. Lantier had washed himself and had used
+up the last of the pomatum—two sous’ worth of pomatum in a playing
+card; the greasy water from his hands filled the basin. And he had
+forgotten nothing. The corner which until then had been filled by the
+trunk seemed to Gervaise an immense empty space. Even the little mirror
+which hung on the window-fastening was gone. When she made this
+discovery, she had a presentiment. She looked on the mantel-piece.
+Lantier had taken away the pawn tickets; the pink bundle was no longer
+there, between the two odd zinc candlesticks.
+
+She hung her laundry over the back of a chair and just stood there,
+gazing around at the furniture. She was so dulled and bewildered that
+she could no longer cry. She had only one sou left. Then, hearing
+Claude and Etienne laughing merrily by the window, their troubles
+already forgotten, she went to them and put her arms about them, losing
+herself for a moment in contemplation of that long gray avenue where,
+that very morning, she had watched the awakening of the working
+population, of the immense work-shop of Paris.
+
+At this hour immense heat was rising from the pavement and from all the
+furnaces in the factories, setting alight a reflecting oven over the
+city and beyond the octroi wall. Out upon this very pavement, into this
+furnace blast, she had been tossed, alone with her little ones. As she
+glanced up and down the boulevard, she was seized with a dull dread
+that her life would be fixed there forever, between a slaughter-house
+and a hospital.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER II.
+
+
+Three weeks later, towards half-past eleven, one beautiful sunshiny
+day, Gervaise and Coupeau, the zinc-worker, were each partaking of a
+plum preserved in brandy, at “l’Assommoir” kept by Pere Colombe.
+Coupeau, who had been smoking a cigarette on the pavement, had
+prevailed on her to go inside as she returned from taking home a
+customer’s washing; and her big square laundress’s basket was on the
+floor beside her, behind the little zinc covered table.
+
+Pere Colombe’s l’Assommoir was at the corner of Rue des Poissonniers
+and Boulevard de Rochechouart. The sign, in tall blue letters
+stretching from one end to the other said: Distillery. Two dusty
+oleanders planted in half casks stood beside the doorway. A long bar
+with its tin measuring cups was on the left as you entered. The large
+room was decorated with casks painted a gay yellow, bright with
+varnish, and gleaming with copper taps and hoops.
+
+On the shelves above the bar were liquor bottles, jars of fruit
+preserved in brandy, and flasks of all shapes. They completely covered
+the wall and were reflected in the mirror behind the bar as colorful
+spots of apple green, pale gold, and soft brown. The main feature of
+the establishment, however, was the distilling apparatus. It was at the
+rear, behind an oak railing in a glassed-in area. The customers could
+watch its functioning, long-necked still-pots, copper worms
+disappearing underground, a devil’s kitchen alluring to drink-sodden
+work men in search of pleasant dreams.
+
+L’Assommoir was nearly empty at the lunch hour. Pere Colombe, a heavy
+man of forty, was serving a ten year old girl who had asked him to
+place four sous’ worth of brandy into her cup. A shaft of sunlight came
+through the entrance to warm the floor which was always damp from the
+smokers’ spitting. From everything, the casks, the bar, the entire
+room, a liquorish odor arose, an alcoholic aroma which seemed to
+thicken and befuddle the dust motes dancing in the sunlight.
+
+Coupeau was making another cigarette. He was very neat, in a short blue
+linen blouse and cap, and was laughing and showing his white teeth.
+With a projecting under jaw and a slightly snub nose, he had handsome
+chestnut eyes, and the face of a jolly dog and a thorough good fellow.
+His coarse curly hair stood erect. His skin still preserved the
+softness of his twenty-six years. Opposite to him, Gervaise, in a thin
+black woolen dress, and bareheaded, was finishing her plum which she
+held by the stalk between the tips of her fingers. They were close to
+the street, at the first of the four tables placed alongside the
+barrels facing the bar.
+
+When the zinc-worker had lit his cigarette, he placed his elbows on the
+table, thrust his face forward, and for an instant looked without
+speaking at the young woman, whose pretty fair face had that day the
+milky transparency of china. Then, alluding to a matter known to
+themselves alone, and already discussed between them, he simply asked
+in a low voice:
+
+“So it’s to be ‘no’? you say ‘no’?”
+
+“Oh! most decidedly ‘no’ Monsieur Coupeau,” quietly replied Gervaise
+with a smile. “I hope you’re not going to talk to me about that here.
+You know you promised me you would be reasonable. Had I known, I
+wouldn’t have let you treat me.”
+
+Coupeau kept silence, looking at her intently with a boldness. She sat
+still, at ease and friendly. At the end of a brief silence she added:
+
+“You can’t really mean it. I’m an old woman; I’ve a big boy eight years
+old. Whatever could we two do together?”
+
+“Why!” murmured Coupeau, blinking his eyes, “what the others do, of
+course, get married!”
+
+She made a gesture of feeling annoyed. “Oh! do you think it’s always
+pleasant? One can very well see you’ve never seen much of living. No,
+Monsieur Coupeau, I must think of serious things. Burdening oneself
+never leads to anything, you know! I’ve two mouths at home which are
+never tired of swallowing, I can tell you! How do you suppose I can
+bring up my little ones, if I only sit here talking indolently? And
+listen, besides that, my misfortune has been a famous lesson to me. You
+know I don’t care a bit about men now. They won’t catch me again for a
+long while.”
+
+She spoke with such cool objectivity that it was clear she had resolved
+this in her mind, turning it about thoroughly.
+
+Coupeau was deeply moved and kept repeating: “I feel so sorry for you.
+It causes me a great deal of pain.”
+
+“Yes, I know that,” resumed she, “and I am sorry, Monsieur Coupeau. But
+you mustn’t take it to heart. If I had any idea of enjoying myself,
+_mon Dieu!_, I would certainly rather be with you than anyone else.
+You’re a good boy and gentle. Only, where’s the use, as I’ve no
+inclination to wed? I’ve been for the last fortnight, now, at Madame
+Fauconnier’s. The children go to school. I’ve work, I’m contented. So
+the best is to remain as we are, isn’t it?”
+
+And she stooped down to take her basket.
+
+“You’re making me talk; they must be expecting me at the shop. You’ll
+easily find someone else prettier than I, Monsieur Coupeau, and who
+won’t have two boys to drag about with her.”
+
+He looked at the clock inserted in the frame-work of the mirror, and
+made her sit down again, exclaiming:
+
+“Don’t be in such a hurry! It’s only eleven thirty-five. I’ve still
+twenty-five minutes. You don’t have to be afraid that I shall do
+anything foolish; there’s the table between us. So you detest me so
+much that you won’t stay and have a little chat with me.”
+
+She put her basket down again, so as not to disoblige him; and they
+conversed like good friends. She had eaten her lunch before going out
+with the laundry. He had gulped down his soup and beef hurriedly to be
+able to wait for her. All the while she chatted amiably, Gervaise kept
+looking out the window at the activity on the street. It was now
+unusually crowded with the lunch time rush.
+
+Everywhere were hurried steps, swinging arms, and pushing elbows. Some
+late comers, hungry and angry at being kept extra long at the job,
+rushed across the street into the bakery. They emerged with a loaf of
+bread and went three doors farther to the Two-Headed Calf to gobble
+down a six-sou meat dish.
+
+Next door to the bakery was a grocer who sold fried potatoes and
+mussels cooked with parsley. A procession of girls went in to get hot
+potatoes wrapped in paper and cups of steaming mussels. Other pretty
+girls bought bunches of radishes. By leaning a bit, Gervaise could see
+into the sausage shop from which children issued, holding a fried chop,
+a sausage or a piece of hot blood pudding wrapped in greasy paper. The
+street was always slick with black mud, even in clear weather. A few
+laborers had already finished their lunch and were strolling aimlessly
+about, their open hands slapping their thighs, heavy from eating, slow
+and peaceful amid the hurrying crowd. A group formed in front of the
+door of l’Assommoir.
+
+“Say, Bibi-the-Smoker,” demanded a hoarse voice, “aren’t you going to
+buy us a round of _vitriol_?”
+
+Five laborers came in and stood by the bar.
+
+“Ah! Here’s that thief, Pere Colombe!” the voice continued. “We want
+the real old stuff, you know. And full sized glasses, too.”
+
+Pere Colombe served them as three more laborers entered. More blue
+smocks gathered on the street corner and some pushed their way into the
+establishment.
+
+“You’re foolish! You only think of the present,” Gervaise was saying to
+Coupeau. “Sure, I loved him, but after the disgusting way in which he
+left me—”
+
+They were talking of Lantier. Gervaise had not seen him again; she
+thought he was living with Virginie’s sister at La Glaciere, in the
+house of that friend who was going to start a hat factory. She had no
+thought of running after him. She had been so distressed at first that
+she had thought of drowning herself in the river. But now that she had
+thought about it, everything seemed to be for the best. Lantier went
+through money so fast, that she probably never could have raised her
+children properly. Oh, she’d let him see his children, all right, if he
+bothered to come round. But as far as she was concerned, she didn’t
+want him to touch her, not even with his finger tips.
+
+She told all this to Coupeau just as if her plan of life was well
+settled. Meanwhile, Coupeau never forgot his desire to possess her. He
+made a jest of everything she said, turning it into ribaldry and asking
+some very direct questions about Lantier. But he proceeded so gaily and
+which such a smile that she never thought of being offended.
+
+“So, you’re the one who beat him,” said he at length. “Oh! you’re not
+kind. You just go around whipping people.”
+
+She interrupted him with a hearty laugh. It was true, though, she had
+whipped Virginie’s tall carcass. She would have delighted in strangling
+someone on that day. She laughed louder than ever when Coupeau told her
+that Virginie, ashamed at having shown so much cowardice, had left the
+neighborhood. Her face, however, preserved an expression of childish
+gentleness as she put out her plump hands, insisting she wouldn’t even
+harm a fly.
+
+She began to tell Coupeau about her childhood at Plassans. She had
+never cared overmuch for men; they had always bored her. She was
+fourteen when she got involved with Lantier. She had thought it was
+nice because he said he was her husband and she had enjoyed playing a
+housewife. She was too soft-hearted and too weak. She always got
+passionately fond of people who caused her trouble later. When she
+loved a man, she wasn’t thinking of having fun in the present; she was
+dreaming about being happy and living together forever.
+
+And as Coupeau, with a chuckle, spoke of her two children, saying they
+hadn’t come from under a bolster, she slapped his fingers; she added
+that she was, no doubt made on the model of other women; women thought
+of their home, slaved to keep the place clean and tidy, and went to bed
+too tired at night not to go to sleep at once. Besides, she resembled
+her mother, a stout laboring woman who died at her work and who had
+served as beast of burden to old Macquart for more than twenty years.
+Her mother’s shoulders had been heavy enough to smash through doors,
+but that didn’t prevent her from being soft-hearted and madly attracted
+to people. And if she limped a little, she no doubt owed that to the
+poor woman, whom old Macquart used to belabor with blows. Her mother
+had told her about the times when Macquart came home drunk and brutally
+bruised her. She had probably been born with her lame leg as a result
+of one of those times.
+
+“Oh! it’s scarcely anything, it’s hardly perceptible,” said Coupeau
+gallantly.
+
+She shook her head; she knew well enough that it could be seen; at
+forty she would look broken in two. Then she added gently, with a
+slight laugh: “It’s a funny fancy of yours to fall in love with a
+cripple.”
+
+With his elbows still on the table, he thrust his face closer to hers
+and began complimenting her in rather dubious language as though to
+intoxicate her with his words. But she kept shaking her head “no,” and
+didn’t allow herself to be tempted although she was flattered by the
+tone of his voice. While listening, she kept looking out the window,
+seeming to be fascinated by the interesting crowd of people passing.
+
+The shops were now almost empty. The grocer removed his last panful of
+fried potatoes from the stove. The sausage man arranged the dishes
+scattered on his counter. Great bearded workmen were as playful as
+young boys, clumping along in their hobnailed boots. Other workmen were
+smoking, staring up into the sky and blinking their eyes. Factory bells
+began to ring in the distance, but the workers, in no hurry, relit
+their pipes. Later, after being tempted by one wineshop after another,
+they finally decided to return to their jobs, but were still dragging
+their feet.
+
+Gervaise amused herself by watching three workmen, a tall fellow and
+two short ones who turned to look back every few yards; they ended by
+descending the street, and came straight to Pere Colombe’s l’Assommoir.
+
+“Ah, well,” murmured she, “there’re three fellows who don’t seem
+inclined for work!”
+
+“Why!” said Coupeau, “I know the tall one, it’s My-Boots, a comrade of
+mine.”
+
+Pere Colombe’s l’Assommoir was now full. You had to shout to be heard.
+Fists often pounded on the bar, causing the glasses to clink. Everyone
+was standing, hands crossed over belly or held behind back. The
+drinking groups crowded close to one another. Some groups, by the
+casks, had to wait a quarter of an hour before being able to order
+their drinks of Pere Colombe.
+
+“Hallo! It’s that aristocrat, Young Cassis!” cried My-Boots, bringing
+his hand down roughly on Coupeau’s shoulder. “A fine gentleman, who
+smokes paper, and wears shirts! So we want to do the grand with our
+sweetheart; we stand her little treats!”
+
+“Shut up! Don’t bother me!” replied Coupeau, greatly annoyed.
+
+But the other added, with a chuckle, “Right you are! We know what’s
+what, my boy. Muffs are muffs, that’s all!”
+
+He turned his back after leering terribly as he looked at Gervaise. The
+latter drew back, feeling rather frightened. The smoke from the pipes,
+the strong odor of all those men, ascended in the air, already foul
+with the fumes of alcohol; and she felt a choking sensation in her
+throat, and coughed slightly.
+
+“Oh, what a horrible thing it is to drink!” said she in a low voice.
+
+And she related that formerly at Plassans she used to drink anisette
+with her mother. But on one occasion it nearly killed her, and that
+disgusted her with it; now, she could never touch any liqueurs.
+
+“You see,” added she, pointing to her glass, “I’ve eaten my plum; only
+I must leave the juice, because it would make me ill.”
+
+For himself, Coupeau couldn’t understand how anyone could drink glass
+after glass of cheap brandy. A brandied plum occasionally could not
+hurt, but as for cheap brandy, absinthe and the other strong stuff, no,
+not for him, no matter how much his comrades teased him about it. He
+stayed out on the sidewalk when his friends went into low
+establishments. Coupeau’s father had smashed his head open one day when
+he fell from the eaves of No. 25 on Rue Coquenard. He was drunk. This
+memory keeps Coupeau’s entire family from the drink. Every time Coupeau
+passed that spot, he thought he would rather lick up water from the
+gutter than accept a free drink in a bar. He would always say: “In our
+trade, you have to have steady legs.”
+
+Gervaise had taken up her basket again. She did not rise from her seat
+however, but held the basket on her knees, with a vacant look in her
+eyes and lost in thought, as though the young workman’s words had
+awakened within her far-off thoughts of existence. And she said again,
+slowly, and without any apparent change of manner:
+
+“_Mon Dieu_! I’m not ambitious; I don’t ask for much. My desire is to
+work in peace, always to have bread to eat and a decent place to sleep
+in, you know; with a bed, a table, and two chairs, nothing more. If I
+can, I’d like to raise my children to be good citizens. Also, I’d like
+not to be beaten up, if I ever again live with a man. It’s not my idea
+of amusement.” She pondered, thinking if there was anything else she
+wanted, but there wasn’t anything of importance. Then, after a moment
+she went on, “Yes, when one reaches the end, one might wish to die in
+one’s bed. For myself, having trudged through life, I should like to
+die in my bed, in my own home.”
+
+And she rose from her seat. Coupeau, who cordially approved her wishes,
+was already standing up, anxious about the time. But they did not leave
+yet. Gervaise was curious enough to go to the far end of the room for a
+look at the big still behind the oak railing. It was chugging away in
+the little glassed-in courtyard. Coupeau explained its workings to her,
+pointing at the different parts of the machinery, showing her the
+trickling of the small stream of limpid alcohol. Not a single gay puff
+of steam was coming forth from the endless coils. The breathing could
+barely be heard. It sounded muffled as if from underground. It was like
+a sombre worker, performing dark deeds in the bright daylight, strong
+but silent.
+
+My-Boots, accompanied by his two comrades, came to lean on the railing
+until they could get a place at the bar. He laughed, looking at the
+machine. _Tonnerre de Dieu_, that’s clever. There’s enough stuff in its
+big belly to last for weeks. He wouldn’t mind if they just fixed the
+end of the tube in his mouth, so he could feel the fiery spirits
+flowing down to his heels like a river. It would be better than the
+tiny sips doled out by Pere Colombe! His two comrades laughed with him,
+saying that My-Boots was quite a guy after all.
+
+The huge still continued to trickle forth its alcoholic sweat.
+Eventually it would invade the bar, flow out along the outer
+Boulevards, and inundate the immense expanse of Paris.
+
+Gervaise stepped back, shivering. She tried to smile as she said:
+
+“It’s foolish, but that still and the liquor gives me the creeps.”
+
+Then, returning to the idea she nursed of a perfect happiness, she
+resumed: “Now, ain’t I right? It’s much the nicest isn’t it—to have
+plenty of work, bread to eat, a home of one’s own, and to be able to
+bring up one’s children and to die in one’s bed?”
+
+“And never to be beaten,” added Coupeau gaily. “But I would never beat
+you, if you would only try me, Madame Gervaise. You’ve no cause for
+fear. I don’t drink and then I love you too much. Come, shall it be
+marriage? I’ll get you divorced and make you my wife.”
+
+He was speaking low, whispering at the back of her neck while she made
+her way through the crowd of men with her basket held before her. She
+kept shaking her head “no.” Yet she turned around to smile at him,
+apparently happy to know that he never drank. Yes, certainly, she would
+say “yes” to him, except she had already sworn to herself never to
+start up with another man. Eventually they reached the door and went
+out.
+
+When they left, l’Assommoir was packed to the door, spilling its hubbub
+of rough voices and its heavy smell of vitriol into the street.
+My-Boots could be heard railing at Pere Colombe, calling him a
+scoundrel and accusing him of only half filling his glass. He didn’t
+have to come in here. He’d never come back. He suggested to his
+comrades a place near the Barriere Saint-Denis where you drank good
+stuff straight.
+
+“Ah,” sighed Gervaise when they reached the sidewalk. “You can breathe
+out here. Good-bye, Monsieur Coupeau, and thank you. I must hurry now.”
+
+He seized her hand as she started along the boulevard, insisting, “Take
+a walk with me along Rue de la Goutte-d’Or. It’s not much farther for
+you. I’ve got to see my sister before going back to work. We’ll keep
+each other company.”
+
+In the end, Gervaise agreed and they walked beside each other along the
+Rue des Poissonniers, although she did not take his arm. He told her
+about his family. His mother, an old vest-maker, now had to do
+housekeeping because her eyesight was poor. Her birthday was the third
+of last month and she was sixty-two. He was the youngest. One of his
+sisters, a widow of thirty-six, worked in a flower shop and lived in
+the Batignolles section, on Rue des Moines. The other sister was thirty
+years old now. She had married a deadpan chainmaker named Lorilleux.
+That’s where he was going now. They lived in a big tenement on the left
+side. He ate with them in the evenings; it saved a bit for all of them.
+But he had been invited out this evening and he was going to tell her
+not to expect him.
+
+Gervaise, who was listening to him, suddenly interrupted him to ask,
+with a smile: “So you’re called ‘Young Cassis,’ Monsieur Coupeau?”
+
+“Oh!” replied he, “it’s a nickname my mates have given me because I
+generally drink ‘cassis’ when they force me to accompany them to the
+wineshop. It’s no worse to be called Young Cassis than My-Boots, is
+it?”
+
+“Of course not. Young Cassis isn’t an ugly name,” observed the young
+woman.
+
+And she questioned him about his work. He was still working there,
+behind the octroi wall at the new hospital. Oh! there was no want of
+work, he would not be finished there for a year at least. There were
+yards and yards of gutters!
+
+“You know,” said he, “I can see the Hotel Boncoeur when I’m up there.
+Yesterday you were at the window, and I waved my arms, but you didn’t
+notice me.”
+
+They had already gone about a hundred paces along the Rue de la
+Goutte-d’Or, when he stood still and raising his eyes, said:
+
+“That’s the house. I was born farther on, at No. 22. But this house is,
+all the same, a fine block of masonry! It’s as big as a barrack
+inside!”
+
+Gervaise looked up, examining the facade. On the street side, the
+tenement had five stories, each with fifteen windows, whose black
+shutters with their broken slats gave an air of desolation to the wide
+expanse of wall. Four shops occupied the ground floor. To the right of
+the entrance, a large, greasy hash house, and to the left, a coal
+dealer, a notions seller, and an umbrella merchant. The building
+appeared even larger than it was because it had on each side a small,
+low building which seemed to lean against it for support. This immense,
+squared-off building was outlined against the sky. Its unplastered side
+walls were as bare as prison walls, except for rows of roughly jutting
+stones which suggested jaws full of decayed teeth yawning vacantly.
+
+Gervaise was gazing at the entrance with interest. The high, arched
+doorway rose to the second floor and opened onto a deep porch, at the
+end of which could be seen the pale daylight of a courtyard. This
+entranceway was paved like the street, and down the center flowed a
+streamlet of pink-stained water.
+
+“Come in,” said Coupeau, “no one will eat you.”
+
+Gervaise wanted to wait for him in the street. However, she could not
+resist going through the porch as far as the concierge’s room on the
+right. And there, on the threshold, she raised her eyes. Inside, the
+building was six stories high, with four identical plain walls
+enclosing the broad central court. The drab walls were corroded by
+yellowish spots and streaked by drippings from the roof gutters. The
+walls went straight up to the eaves with no molding or ornament except
+the angles on the drain pipes at each floor. Here the sink drains added
+their stains. The glass window panes resembled murky water. Mattresses
+of checkered blue ticking were hanging out of several windows to air.
+Clothes lines stretched from other windows with family washing hanging
+to dry. On a third floor line was a baby’s diaper, still implanted with
+filth. This crowded tenement was bursting at the seams, spilling out
+poverty and misery through every crevice.
+
+Each of the four walls had, at ground level, a narrow entrance,
+plastered without a trace of woodwork. This opened into a vestibule
+containing a dirt-encrusted staircase which spiraled upward. They were
+each labeled with one of the first four letters of the alphabet painted
+on the wall.
+
+Several large work-shops with weather-blackened skylights were
+scattered about the court. Near the concierge’s room was the dyeing
+establishment responsible for the pink streamlet. Puddles of water
+infested the courtyard, along with wood shavings and coal cinders.
+Grass and weeds grew between the paving stones. The unforgiving
+sunlight seemed to cut the court into two parts. On the shady side was
+a dripping water tap with three small hens scratching for worms with
+their filth-smeared claws.
+
+Gervaise slowly gazed about, lowering her glance from the sixth floor
+to the paving stones, then raising it again, surprised at the vastness,
+feeling as it were in the midst of a living organ, in the very heart of
+a city, and interested in the house, as though it were a giant before
+her.
+
+“Is madame seeking for any one?” called out the inquisitive concierge,
+emerging from her room.
+
+The young woman explained that she was waiting for a friend. She
+returned to the street; then as Coupeau did not come, she went back to
+the courtyard seized with the desire to take another look. She did not
+think the house ugly. Amongst the rags hanging from the windows she
+discovered various cheerful touches—a wall-flower blooming in a pot, a
+cage of chirruping canaries, shaving-glasses shining like stars in the
+depth of the shadow. A carpenter was singing in his work-shop,
+accompanied by the whining of his plane. The blacksmith’s hammers were
+ringing rhythmically.
+
+In contrast to the apparent wretched poverty, at nearly every open
+window appeared the begrimed faces of laughing children. Women with
+peaceful faces could be seen bent over their sewing. The rooms were
+empty of men who had gone back to work after lunch. The whole tenement
+was tranquil except for the sounds from the work-shops below which
+served as a sort of lullaby that went on, unceasingly, always the same.
+
+The only thing she did not like was the courtyard’s dampness. She would
+want rooms at the rear, on the sunny side. Gervaise took a few more
+steps into the courtyard, inhaling the characteristic odor of the
+slums, comprised of dust and rotten garbage. But the sharp odor of the
+waste water from the dye shop was strong, and Gervaise thought it
+smelled better here than at the Hotel Boncoeur. She chose a window for
+herself, the one at the far left with a small window box planted with
+scarlet runners.
+
+“I’m afraid I’ve kept you waiting rather a long time,” said Coupeau,
+whom she suddenly heard close beside her. “They always make an awful
+fuss whenever I don’t dine with them, and it was worse than ever to-day
+as my sister had bought some veal.”
+
+And as Gervaise had slightly started with surprise, he continued
+glancing around in his turn:
+
+“You were looking at the house. It’s always all let from the top to the
+bottom. There are three hundred lodgers, I think. If I had any
+furniture, I would have secured a small room. One would be comfortable
+here, don’t you think so?”
+
+“Yes, one would be comfortable,” murmured Gervaise. “In our street at
+Plassans there weren’t near so many people. Look, that’s pretty—that
+window up on the fifth floor, with the scarlet runners.”
+
+The zinc-worker’s obstinate desire made him ask her once more whether
+she would or she wouldn’t. They could rent a place here as soon as they
+found a bed. She hurried out the arched entranceway, asking him not to
+start that subject again. There was as much chance of this building
+collapsing as there was of her sleeping under the same blanket with
+him. Still, when Coupeau left her in front of Madame Fauconnier’s shop,
+he was allowed to hold her hand for a moment.
+
+For a month the young woman and the zinc-worker were the best of
+friends. He admired her courage, when he beheld her half killing
+herself with work, keeping her children tidy and clean, and yet finding
+time at night to do a little sewing. Often other women were hopelessly
+messy, forever nibbling or gadding about, but she wasn’t like them at
+all. She was much too serious. Then she would laugh, and modestly
+defend herself. It was her misfortune that she had not always been
+good, having been with a man when only fourteen. Then too, she had
+often helped her mother empty a bottle of anisette. But she had learned
+a few things from experience. He was wrong to think of her as
+strong-willed; her will power was very weak. She had always let herself
+be pushed into things because she didn’t want to hurt someone’s
+feelings. Her one hope now was to live among decent people, for living
+among bad people was like being hit over the head. It cracks your
+skull. Whenever she thought of the future, she shivered. Everything she
+had seen in life so far, especially when a child, had given her lessons
+to remember.
+
+Coupeau, however, chaffed her about her gloomy thoughts, and brought
+back all her courage by trying to pinch her hips. She pushed him away
+from her, and slapped his hands, whilst he called out laughingly that,
+for a weak woman, she was not a very easy capture. He, who always joked
+about everything did not trouble himself regarding the future. One day
+followed another, that was all. There would always be somewhere to
+sleep and a bite to eat. The neighborhood seemed decent enough to him,
+except for a gang of drunkards that ought to be cleaned out of the
+gutters.
+
+Coupeau was not a bad sort of fellow. He sometimes had really sensible
+things to say. He was something of a dandy with his Parisian working
+man’s gift for banter, a regular gift of gab, and besides, he was
+attractive.
+
+They had ended by rendering each other all sorts of services at the
+Hotel Boncoeur. Coupeau fetched her milk, ran her errands, carried her
+bundles of clothes; often of an evening, as he got home first from
+work, he took the children for a walk on the exterior Boulevard.
+Gervaise, in return for his polite attentions, would go up into the
+narrow room at the top of the house where he slept, and see to his
+clothes, sewing buttons on his blue linen trousers, and mending his
+linen jackets. A great familiarity existed between them. She was never
+bored when he was around. The gay songs he sang amused her, and so did
+his continuous banter of jokes and jibes characteristic of the Paris
+streets, this being still new to her.
+
+On Coupeau’s side, this continual familiarity inflamed him more and
+more until it began to seriously bother him. He began to feel tense and
+uneasy. He continued with his foolish talk, never failing to ask her,
+“When will it be?” She understood what he meant and teased him. He
+would then come to visit her carrying his bedroom slippers, as if he
+were moving in. She joked about it and continued calmly without
+blushing at the allusions with which he was always surrounding her. She
+stood for anything from him as long as he didn’t get rough. She only
+got angry once when he pulled a strand of her hair while trying to
+force a kiss from her.
+
+Towards the end of June, Coupeau lost his liveliness. He became most
+peculiar. Gervaise, feeling uneasy at some of his glances, barricaded
+herself in at night. Then, after having sulked ever since the Sunday,
+he suddenly came on the Tuesday night about eleven o’clock and knocked
+at her room. She would not open to him; but his voice was so gentle and
+so trembling that she ended by removing the chest of drawers she had
+pushed against the door. When he entered, she thought he was ill; he
+looked so pale, his eyes were so red, and the veins on his face were
+all swollen. And he stood there, stuttering and shaking his head. No,
+no, he was not ill. He had been crying for two hours upstairs in his
+room; he wept like a child, biting his pillow so as not to be heard by
+the neighbors. For three nights past he had been unable to sleep. It
+could not go on like that.
+
+“Listen, Madame Gervaise,” said he, with a swelling in his throat and
+on the point of bursting out crying again; “we must end this, mustn’t
+we? We’ll go and get married. It’s what I want. I’ve quite made up my
+mind.”
+
+Gervaise showed great surprise. She was very grave.
+
+“Oh! Monsieur Coupeau,” murmured she, “whatever are you thinking of?
+You know I’ve never asked you for that. I didn’t care about it—that was
+all. Oh, no, no! it’s serious now; think of what you’re saying, I beg
+of you.”
+
+But he continued to shake his head with an air of unalterable
+resolution. He had already thought it all over. He had come down
+because he wanted to have a good night. She wasn’t going to send him
+back to weep again he supposed! As soon as she said “yes,” he would no
+longer bother her, and she could go quietly to bed. He only wanted to
+hear her say “yes.” They could talk it over on the morrow.
+
+“But I certainly can’t say ‘yes’ just like that,” resumed Gervaise. “I
+don’t want you to be able to accuse me later on of having incited you
+to do a foolish thing. You shouldn’t be so insistent, Monsieur Coupeau.
+You can’t really be sure that you’re in love with me. If you didn’t see
+me for a week, it might fade away. Sometimes men get married and then
+there’s day after day, stretching out into an entire lifetime, and they
+get pretty well bored by it all. Sit down there; I’m willing to talk it
+over at once.”
+
+Then until one in the morning, in the dark room and by the faint light
+of a smoky tallow candle which they forgot to snuff, they talked of
+their marriage, lowering their voices so as not to wake the two
+children, Claude and Etienne, who were sleeping, both heads on the same
+pillow. Gervaise kept pointing out the children to Coupeau, what a
+funny kind of dowry they were. She really shouldn’t burden him with
+them. Besides, what would the neighbors say? She’d feel ashamed for him
+because everyone knew about the story of her life and her lover. They
+wouldn’t think it decent if they saw them getting married barely two
+months later.
+
+Coupeau replied by shrugging his shoulders. He didn’t care about the
+neighbors! He never bothered about their affairs. So, there was Lantier
+before him, well, so what? What’s so bad about that? She hadn’t been
+constantly bringing men upstairs, as some women did, even rich ladies!
+The children would grow up, they’d raise them right. Never had he known
+before such a woman, such sound character, so good-hearted. Anyway, she
+could have been anything, a streetwalker, ugly, lazy and
+good-for-nothing, with a whole gang of dirty kids, and so what? He
+wanted her.
+
+“Yes, I want you,” he repeated, bringing his hand down on his knee with
+a continuos hammering. “You understand, I want you. There’s nothing to
+be said to that, is there?”
+
+Little by little, Gervaise gave way. Her emotions began to take control
+when faced with his encompassing desire. Still, with her hands in her
+lap and her face suffused with a soft sweetness, she hesitantly offered
+objections. From outside, through the half-open window, a lovely June
+night breathed in puffs of sultry air, disturbing the candle with its
+long wick gleaming red like a glowing coal. In the deep silence of the
+sleeping neighborhood the only sound was the infantile weeping of a
+drunkard lying in the middle of the street. Far away, in the back room
+of some restaurant, a violin was playing a dance tune for some late
+party.
+
+Coupeau was silent. Then, knowing she had no more arguments, he smiled,
+took hold of her hands and pulled her toward him. She was in one of
+those moments of weakness she so greatly mistrusted, persuaded at last,
+too emotionally stirred to refuse anything or to hurt anyone’s
+feelings. Coupeau didn’t realize that she was giving way. He held her
+wrists so tightly as to almost crush them. Together they breathed a
+long sigh that to both of them meant a partial satisfaction of their
+desire.
+
+“You’ll say ‘yes,’ won’t you,” asked he.
+
+“How you worry me!” she murmured. “You wish it? Well then, ‘yes.’ Ah!
+we’re perhaps doing a very foolish thing.”
+
+He jumped up, and, seizing her round the waist, kissed her roughly on
+the face, at random. Then, as this caress caused a noise, he became
+anxious, and went softly and looked at Claude and Etienne.
+
+“Hush, we must be careful,” said he in a whisper, “and not wake the
+children. Good-bye till to-morrow.”
+
+And he went back to his room. Gervaise, all in a tremble, remained
+seated on the edge of her bed, without thinking of undressing herself
+for nearly an hour. She was touched; she felt that Coupeau was very
+honorable; for at one moment she had really thought it was all over,
+and that he would forget her. The drunkard below, under the window, was
+now hoarsely uttering the plaintive cry of some lost animal. The violin
+in the distance had left off its saucy tune and was now silent.
+
+During the following days Coupeau sought to get Gervaise to call some
+evening on his sister in the Rue de la Goutte-d’Or; but the young
+woman, who was very timid, showed a great dread of this visit to the
+Lorilleux. She knew that Coupeau had a lingering fear of that
+household, even though he certainly wasn’t dependent on his sister, who
+wasn’t even the oldest of the family. Mamma Coupeau would certainly
+give her consent at once, as she never refused her only son anything.
+The thing was that the Lorilleuxs were supposed to be earning ten
+francs a day or more and that gave them a certain authority. Coupeau
+would never dare to get married unless his wife was acceptable to them.
+
+“I have spoken to them of you, they know our plans,” explained he to
+Gervaise. “Come now! What a child you are! Let’s call on them this
+evening. I’ve warned you, haven’t I? You’ll find my sister rather
+stiff. Lorilleux, too, isn’t always very amiable. In reality they are
+greatly annoyed, because if I marry, I shall no longer take my meals
+with them, and it’ll be an economy the less. But that doesn’t matter,
+they won’t turn you out. Do this for me, it’s absolutely necessary.”
+
+These words only frightened Gervaise the more. One Saturday evening,
+however, she gave in. Coupeau came for her at half-past eight. She had
+dressed herself in a black dress, a crape shawl with yellow palms, and
+a white cap trimmed with a little cheap lace. During the six weeks she
+had been working, she had saved the seven francs for the shawl, and the
+two and a half francs for the cap; the dress was an old one cleaned and
+made up afresh.
+
+“They’re expecting you,” said Coupeau to her, as they went round by the
+Rue des Poissonniers. “Oh! they’re beginning to get used to the idea of
+my being married. They seem nice indeed, to-night. And you know if
+you’ve never seen gold chains made, it’ll amuse you to watch them. They
+just happen to have a pressing order for Monday.”
+
+“They’ve got gold in their room?” asked Gervaise.
+
+“I should think so; there’s some on the walls, on the floor, in fact
+everywhere.”
+
+They had passed the arched doorway and crossed the courtyard. The
+Lorilleuxs lived on the sixth floor, staircase B. Coupeau laughingly
+told her to hold the hand-rail tight and not to leave go of it. She
+looked up, and blinked her eyes, as she perceived the tall hollow tower
+of the staircase, lighted by three gas jets, one on every second
+landing; the last one, right up at the top looked like a star twinkling
+in a black sky, whilst the other two cast long flashes of light, of
+fantastic shapes, among the interminable windings of the stairs.
+
+“By Jove!” said the zinc-worker as he reached the first floor, smiling,
+“there’s a strong smell of onion soup. Someone’s having onion soup, I’m
+sure.”
+
+Staircase B, with its gray, dirty steps and hand-rail, its scratched
+walls and chipped plaster, was full of strong kitchen odors. Long
+corridors, echoing with noise, led away from each landing. Doors,
+painted yellow, gaped open, smeared black around the latch from dirty
+hands. A sink on each landing gave forth a fetid humidity, adding its
+stench to the sharp flavor of the cooking of onions. From the basement,
+all the way to the sixth floor, you could hear dishes clattering,
+saucepans being rinsed, pots being scraped and scoured.
+
+On the first floor Gervaise saw a half-opened door with the word
+“Designer” written on it in large letters. Inside were two men sitting
+by a table, the dishes cleared away from its oilcloth cover, arguing
+furiously amid a cloud of pipe smoke. The second and third floors were
+quieter, and through cracks in the woodwork only such sounds filtered
+as the rhythm of a cradle rocking, the stifled crying of a child, a
+woman’s voice sounding like the dull murmur of running water with no
+words distinct. Gervaise read the various signs on the doors giving the
+names of the occupants: “Madame Gaudron, wool-carder” and “Monsieur
+Madinier, cardboard boxes.” There was a fight in progress on the fourth
+floor: a stomping of feet that shook the floor, furniture banged
+around, a racket of curses and blows; but this did not bother the
+neighbors opposite, who were playing cards with their door opened wide
+to admit more air.
+
+When Gervaise reached the fifth floor, she had to stop to take a
+breath; she was not used to going up so high; that wall for ever
+turning, the glimpses she had of the lodgings following each other,
+made her head ache. Anyway, there was a family almost blocking the
+landing: the father washing the dishes over a small earthenware stove
+near the sink and the mother sitting with her back to the stair-rail
+and cleaning the baby before putting it to bed.
+
+Coupeau kept urging Gervaise along, and they finally reached the sixth
+floor. He encouraged her with a smile; they had arrived! She had been
+hearing a voice all the way up from the bottom and she was gazing
+upward, wondering where it could be coming from, a voice so clear and
+piercing that it had dominated all the other sounds. It came from a
+little old woman in an attic room who sang while putting dresses on
+cheap dolls. When a tall girl came by with a pail of water and entered
+a nearby apartment, Gervaise saw a tumbled bed on which a man was
+sprawled, his eyes fixed on the ceiling. As the door closed behind her,
+Gervaise saw the hand-written card: “Mademoiselle Clemence, ironing.”
+
+Now that she had finally made it to the top, her legs weary and her
+breath short, Gervaise leaned over the railing to look down. Now it was
+the gaslight on the first floor which seemed a distant star at the
+bottom of a narrow well six stories deep. All the odors and all the
+murmurings of the immense variety of life within the tenement came up
+to her in one stifling breath that flushed her face as she hazarded a
+worried glance down into the gulf below.
+
+“We’re not there yet,” said Coupeau. “Oh! It’s quite a journey!”
+
+He had gone down a long corridor on the left. He turned twice, the
+first time also to the left, the second time to the right. The corridor
+still continued branching off, narrowing between walls full of
+crevices, with plaster peeling off, and lighted at distant intervals by
+a slender gas-jet; and the doors all alike, succeeded each other the
+same as the doors of a prison or a convent, and nearly all open,
+continued to display homes of misery and work, which the hot June
+evening filled with a reddish mist. At length they reached a small
+passage in complete darkness.
+
+“We’re here,” resumed the zinc-worker. “Be careful, keep to the wall;
+there are three steps.”
+
+And Gervaise carefully took another ten steps in the obscurity. She
+stumbled and then counted the three steps. But at the end of the
+passage Coupeau had opened a door, without knocking. A brilliant light
+spread over the tiled floor. They entered.
+
+It was a narrow apartment, and seemed as if it were the continuation of
+the corridor. A faded woolen curtain, raised up just then by a string,
+divided the place in two. The first part contained a bedstead pushed
+beneath an angle of the attic ceiling, a cast-iron stove still warm
+from the cooking of the dinner, two chairs, a table and a wardrobe, the
+cornice of which had had to be sawn off to make it fit in between the
+door and the bedstead. The second part was fitted up as a work-shop; at
+the end, a narrow forge with its bellows; to the right, a vise fixed to
+the wall beneath some shelves on which pieces of old iron lay
+scattered; to the left near the window, a small workman’s bench,
+encumbered with greasy and very dirty pliers, shears and microscopical
+saws, all very dirty and grimy.
+
+“It’s us!” cried Coupeau advancing as far as the woolen curtain.
+
+But no one answered at first. Gervaise, deeply affected, moved
+especially by the thought that she was about to enter a place full of
+gold, stood behind the zinc-worker, stammering and venturing upon nods
+of her head by way of bowing. The brilliant light, a lamp burning on
+the bench, a brazier full of coals flaring in the forge, increased her
+confusion still more. She ended however, by distinguishing Madame
+Lorilleux—little, red-haired and tolerably strong, pulling with all the
+strength of her short arms, and with the assistance of a big pair of
+pincers, a thread of black metal which she passed through the holes of
+a draw-plate fixed to the vise. Seated in front of the bench,
+Lorilleux, quite as small of stature, but more slender in the
+shoulders, worked with the tips of his pliers, with the vivacity of a
+monkey, at a labor so minute, that it was impossible to follow it
+between his scraggy fingers. It was the husband who first raised his
+head—a head with scanty locks, the face of the yellow tinge of old wax,
+long, and with an ailing expression.
+
+“Ah! it’s you; well, well!” murmured he. “We’re in a hurry you know.
+Don’t come into the work-room, you’d be in our way. Stay in the
+bedroom.”
+
+And he resumed his minute task, his face again in the reflection of a
+glass globe full of green-colored water, through which the lamp shed a
+circle of bright light over his work.
+
+“Take the chairs!” called out Madame Lorilleux in her turn. “It’s that
+lady, isn’t it? Very well, very well!”
+
+She had rolled the wire and she carried it to the forge, and then,
+reviving the fire of the brazier with a large wooden fan, she proceeded
+to temper the wire before passing it through the last holes of the
+draw-plate.
+
+Coupeau moved the chairs forward and seated Gervaise by the curtain.
+The room was so narrow that he could not sit beside her, so he sat
+behind her, leaning over her shoulder to explain the work in progress.
+Gervaise was intimidated by this strange reception and felt uneasy. She
+had a buzzing in her ears and couldn’t hear clearly. She thought the
+wife looked older than her thirty years and not very neat with her hair
+in a pigtail dangling down the back of her loosely worn wrapper. The
+husband, who was only a year older, appeared already an old man with
+mean, thin lips, as he sat there working in his shirt sleeves with his
+bare feet thrust into down at the heel slippers. Gervaise was dismayed
+by the smallness of the shop, the grimy walls, the rustiness of the
+tools, and the black soot spread all over what looked like the odds and
+ends of a scrap-iron peddler’s wares.
+
+“And the gold?” asked Gervaise in a low voice.
+
+Her anxious glances searched the corners and sought amongst all that
+filth for the resplendence she had dreamt of. But Coupeau burst out
+laughing.
+
+“Gold?” said he; “why there’s some; there’s some more, and there’s some
+at your feet!”
+
+He pointed successively to the fine wire at which his sister was
+working, and to another roll of wire, similar to the ordinary iron
+wire, hanging against the wall close to the vise; then going down on
+all fours, he picked up, beneath the wooden screen which covered the
+tiled floor of the work-room, a piece of waste, a tiny fragment
+resembling the point of a rusty needle. But Gervaise protested; that
+couldn’t be gold, that blackish piece of metal as ugly as iron! He had
+to bite into the piece and show her the gleaming notch made by his
+teeth. Then he continued his explanations: the employers provided the
+gold wire, already alloyed; the craftsmen first pulled it through the
+draw-plate to obtain the correct size, being careful to anneal it five
+or six times to keep it from breaking. It required a steady, strong
+hand, and plenty of practice. His sister would not let her husband
+touch the wire-drawing since he was subject to coughing spells. She had
+strong arms for it; he had seen her draw gold to the fineness of a
+hair.
+
+Lorilleux, seized with a fit of coughing, almost doubled up on his
+stool. In the midst of the paroxysm, he spoke, and said in a choking
+voice, still without looking at Gervaise, as though he was merely
+mentioning the thing to himself:
+
+“I’m making the herring-bone chain.”
+
+Coupeau urged Gervaise to get up. She might draw nearer and see. The
+chainmaker consented with a grunt. He wound the wire prepared by his
+wife round a mandrel, a very thin steel rod. Then he sawed gently,
+cutting the wire the whole length of the mandrel, each turn forming a
+link, which he soldered. The links were laid on a large piece of
+charcoal. He wetted them with a drop of borax, taken from the bottom of
+a broken glass beside him; and he made them red-hot at the lamp beneath
+the horizontal flame produced by the blow-pipe. Then, when he had
+soldered about a hundred links he returned once more to his minute
+work, propping his hands against the edge of the _cheville_, a small
+piece of board which the friction of his hands had polished. He bent
+each link almost double with the pliers, squeezed one end close,
+inserted it in the last link already in place and then, with the aid of
+a point opened out again the end he had squeezed; and he did this with
+a continuous regularity, the links joining each other so rapidly that
+the chain gradually grew beneath Gervaise’s gaze, without her being
+able to follow, or well understand how it was done.
+
+“That’s the herring-bone chain,” said Coupeau. “There’s also the long
+link, the cable, the plain ring, and the spiral. But that’s the
+herring-bone. Lorilleux only makes the herring-bone chain.”
+
+The latter chuckled with satisfaction. He exclaimed, as he continued
+squeezing the links, invisible between his black finger-nails.
+
+“Listen to me, Young Cassis! I was making a calculation this morning. I
+commenced work when I was twelve years old, you know. Well! Can you
+guess how long a herring-bone chain I must have made up till to-day?”
+
+He raised his pale face, and blinked his red eye-lids.
+
+“Twenty-six thousand feet, do you hear? Two leagues! That’s something!
+A herring-bone chain two leagues long! It’s enough to twist round the
+necks of all the women of the neighborhood. And you know, it’s still
+increasing. I hope to make it long enough to reach from Paris to
+Versailles.”
+
+Gervaise had returned to her seat, disenchanted and thinking everything
+very ugly. She smiled to be polite to the Lorilleuxs. The complete
+silence about her marriage bothered her. It was the sole reason for her
+having come. The Lorilleuxs were treating her as some stranger brought
+in by Coupeau. When a conversation finally did get started, it
+concerned the building’s tenants. Madame Lorilleux asked her husband if
+he had heard the people on the fourth floor having a fight. They fought
+every day. The husband usually came home drunk and the wife had her
+faults too, yelling in the filthiest language. Then they spoke of the
+designer on the first floor, an uppity show-off with a mound of debts,
+always smoking, always arguing loudly with his friends. Monsieur
+Madinier’s cardboard business was barely surviving. He had let two girl
+workers go yesterday. The business ate up all his money, leaving his
+children to run around in rags. And that Madame Gaudron was pregnant
+again; this was almost indecent at her age. The landlord was going to
+evict the Coquets on the fifth floor. They owed nine months’ rent, and
+besides, they insisted on lighting their stove out on the landing. Last
+Saturday the old lady on the sixth floor, Mademoiselle Remanjou, had
+arrived just in time to save the Linguerlot child from being badly
+burned. Mademoiselle Clemence, one who took in ironing, well, she lived
+life as she pleased. She was so kind to animals though and had such a
+good heart that you couldn’t say anything against her. It was a pity, a
+fine girl like her, the company she kept. She’d be walking the streets
+before long.
+
+“Look, here’s one,” said Lorilleux to his wife, giving her the piece of
+chain he had been working on since his lunch. “You can trim it.” And he
+added, with the persistence of a man who does not easily relinquish a
+joke: “Another four feet and a half. That brings me nearer to
+Versailles.”
+
+Madame Lorilleux, after tempering it again, trimmed it by passing it
+through the regulating draw-plate. Then she put it in a little copper
+saucepan with a long handle, full of lye-water, and placed it over the
+fire of the forge. Gervaise, again pushed forward by Coupeau, had to
+follow this last operation. When the chain was thoroughly cleansed, it
+appeared a dull red color. It was finished, and ready to be delivered.
+
+“They’re always delivered like that, in their rough state,” the
+zinc-worker explained. “The polishers rub them afterwards with cloths.”
+
+Gervaise felt her courage failing her. The heat, more and more intense,
+was suffocating her. They kept the door shut, because Lorilleux caught
+cold from the least draught. Then as they still did not speak of the
+marriage, she wanted to go away and gently pulled Coupeau’s jacket. He
+understood. Besides, he also was beginning to feel ill at ease and
+vexed at their affectation of silence.
+
+“Well, we’re off,” said he. “We mustn’t keep you from your work.”
+
+He moved about for a moment, waiting, hoping for a word or some
+allusion or other. At length he decided to broach the subject himself.
+
+“I say, Lorilleux, we’re counting on you to be my wife’s witness.”
+
+The chainmaker pretended, with a chuckle, to be greatly surprised;
+whilst his wife, leaving her draw-plates, placed herself in the middle
+of the work-room.
+
+“So it’s serious then?” murmured he. “That confounded Young Cassis, one
+never knows whether he is joking or not.”
+
+“Ah! yes, madame’s the person involved,” said the wife in her turn, as
+she stared rudely at Gervaise. “_Mon Dieu!_ We’ve no advice to give
+you, we haven’t. It’s a funny idea to go and get married, all the same.
+Anyhow, it’s your own wish. When it doesn’t succeed, one’s only got
+oneself to blame, that’s all. And it doesn’t often succeed, not often,
+not often.”
+
+She uttered these last words slower and slower, and shaking her head,
+she looked from the young woman’s face to her hands, and then to her
+feet as though she had wished to undress her and see the very pores of
+her skin. She must have found her better than she expected.
+
+“My brother is perfectly free,” she continued more stiffly. “No doubt
+the family might have wished—one always makes projects. But things take
+such funny turns. For myself, I don’t want to have any unpleasantness.
+Had he brought us the lowest of the low, I should merely have said:
+‘Marry her and go to blazes!’ He was not badly off though, here with
+us. He’s fat enough; one can very well see he didn’t fast much; and he
+always found his soup hot right on time. I say, Lorilleux, don’t you
+think madame’s like Therese—you know who I mean, that woman who used to
+live opposite, and who died of consumption?”
+
+“Yes, there’s a certain resemblance,” replied the chainmaker.
+
+“And you’ve got two children, madame? Now, I must admit I said to my
+brother: ‘I can’t understand how you can want to marry a woman who’s
+got two children.’ You mustn’t be offended if I consult his interests;
+its only natural. You don’t look strong either. Don’t you think,
+Lorilleux, that madame doesn’t look very strong?”
+
+“No, no, she’s not strong.”
+
+They did not mention her leg; but Gervaise understood by their side
+glances, and the curling of their lips, that they were alluding to it.
+She stood before them, wrapped in her thin shawl with the yellow palms,
+replying in monosyllables, as though in the presence of her judges.
+Coupeau, seeing she was suffering, ended by exclaiming:
+
+“All that’s nothing to do with it. What you are talking about isn’t
+important. The wedding will take place on Saturday, July 29. I
+calculated by the almanac. Is it settled? Does it suit you?”
+
+“Oh, it’s all the same to us,” said his sister. “There was no necessity
+to consult us. I shan’t prevent Lorilleux being witness. I only want
+peace and quiet.”
+
+Gervaise, hanging her head, not knowing what to do with herself had put
+the toe of her boot through one of the openings in the wooden screen
+which covered the tiled floor of the work-room; then afraid of having
+disturbed something when she had withdrawn it, she stooped down and
+felt about with her hand. Lorilleux hastily brought the lamp, and he
+examined her fingers suspiciously.
+
+“You must be careful,” said he, “the tiny bits of gold stick to the
+shoes, and get carried away without one knowing it.”
+
+It was all to do with business. The employers didn’t allow a single
+speck for waste. He showed her the rabbit’s foot he used to brush off
+any flecks of gold left on the _cheville_ and the leather he kept on
+his lap to catch any gold that fell. Twice weekly the shop was swept
+out carefully, the sweepings collected and burned and the ashes sifted.
+This recovered up to twenty-five or thirty francs’ worth of gold a
+month.
+
+Madame Lorilleux could not take her eyes from Gervaise’s shoes.
+
+“There’s no reason to get angry,” murmured she with an amiable smile.
+“But, perhaps madame would not mind looking at the soles of her shoes.”
+
+And Gervaise, turning very red, sat down again, and holding up her feet
+showed that there was nothing clinging to them. Coupeau had opened the
+door, exclaiming: “Good-night!” in an abrupt tone of voice. He called
+to her from the corridor. Then she in her turn went off, after
+stammering a few polite words: she hoped to see them again, and that
+they would all agree well together. Both of the Lorilleux had already
+gone back to their work at the far end of their dark hole of a
+work-room. Madame Lorilleux, her skin reflecting the red glow from the
+bed of coals, was drawing on another wire, each effort swelling her
+neck and making the strained muscles stand out like taut cords. Her
+husband, hunched over beneath the greenish gleam of the globe was
+starting another length of chain, twisting each link with his pliers,
+pressing it on one side, inserting it into the next link above, opening
+it again with the pointed tool, continuously, mechanically, not wasting
+a motion, even to wipe the sweat from his face.
+
+When Gervaise emerged from the corridor on to the landing, she could
+not help saying, with tears in her eyes:
+
+“That doesn’t promise much happiness.”
+
+Coupeau shook his head furiously. He would get even with Lorilleux for
+that evening. Had anyone ever seen such a miserly fellow? To think that
+they were going to walk off with two or three grains of his gold dust!
+All the fuss they made was from pure avarice. His sister thought
+perhaps that he would never marry, so as to enable her to economize
+four sous on her dinner every day. However, it would take place all the
+same on July 29. He did not care a hang for them!
+
+Nevertheless, Gervaise still felt depressed. Tormented by a foolish
+fearfulness, she peered anxiously into every dark shadow along the
+stair-rail as she descended. It was dark and deserted at this hour, lit
+only by a single gas jet on the second floor. In the shadowy depths of
+the dark pit, it gave a spot of brightness, even with its flame turned
+so low. It was now silent behind the closed doors; the weary laborers
+had gone to sleep after eating. However, there was a soft laugh from
+Mademoiselle Clemence’s room and a ray of light shone through the
+keyhole of Mademoiselle Remanjou’s door. She was still busy cutting out
+dresses for the dolls. Downstairs at Madame Gaudron’s, a child was
+crying. The sinks on the landings smelled more offensive than ever in
+the midst of the darkness and stillness.
+
+In the courtyard, Gervaise turned back for a last look at the tenement
+as Coupeau called out to the concierge. The building seemed to have
+grown larger under the moonless sky. The drip-drip of water from the
+faucet sounded loud in the quiet. Gervaise felt that the building was
+threatening to suffocate her and a chill went through her body. It was
+a childish fear and she smiled at it a moment later.
+
+“Watch your step,” warned Coupeau.
+
+To get to the entrance, Gervaise had to jump over a wide puddle that
+had drained from the dye shop. The puddle was blue now, the deep blue
+of a summer sky. The reflections from the night light of the concierge
+sparkled in it like stars.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER III.
+
+
+Gervaise did not want to have a wedding-party! What was the use of
+spending money? Besides, she still felt somewhat ashamed; it seemed to
+her quite unnecessary to parade the marriage before the whole
+neighborhood. But Coupeau cried out at that. One could not be married
+without having a feed. He did not care a button for the people of the
+neighborhood! Nothing elaborate, just a short walk and a rabbit ragout
+in the first eating-house they fancied. No music with dessert. Just a
+glass or two and then back home.
+
+The zinc-worker, chaffing and joking, at length got the young woman to
+consent by promising her that there should be no larks. He would keep
+his eye on the glasses, to prevent sunstrokes. Then he organized a sort
+of picnic at five francs a head, at the “Silver Windmill,” kept by
+Auguste, on the Boulevard de la Chapelle. It was a small cafe with
+moderate charges and had a dancing place in the rear, beneath the three
+acacias in the courtyard. They would be very comfortable on the first
+floor. During the next ten days, he got hold of guests in the house
+where his sister lived in the Rue de la Goutte-d’Or—Monsieur Madinier,
+Mademoiselle Remanjou, Madame Gaudron and her husband. He even ended by
+getting Gervaise to consent to the presence of two of his
+comrades—Bibi-the-Smoker and My-Boots. No doubt My-Boots was a boozer;
+but then he had such a fantastic appetite that he was always asked to
+join those sort of gatherings, just for the sight of the caterer’s mug
+when he beheld that bottomless pit swallowing his twelve pounds of
+bread. The young woman on her side, promised to bring her employer
+Madame Fauconnier and the Boches, some very agreeable people. On
+counting, they found there would be fifteen to sit down to table, which
+was quite enough. When there are too many, they always wind up by
+quarrelling.
+
+Coupeau however, had no money. Without wishing to show off, he intended
+to behave handsomely. He borrowed fifty francs of his employer. Out of
+that, he first of all purchased the wedding-ring—a twelve franc gold
+wedding-ring, which Lorilleux procured for him at the wholesale price
+of nine francs. He then bought himself a frock coat, a pair of trousers
+and a waistcoat at a tailor’s in the Rue Myrrha, to whom he gave merely
+twenty-five francs on account; his patent leather shoes and his hat
+were still good enough. When he had put by the ten francs for his and
+Gervaise’s share of the feast—the two children not being charged for—he
+had exactly six francs left—the price of a low mass at the altar of the
+poor. He had no liking for those black crows, the priests. It would
+gripe him to pay his last six francs to keep their whistles wet;
+however, a marriage without a mass wasn’t a real marriage at all.
+
+Going to the church himself, he bargained for a whole hour with a
+little old priest in a dirty cassock who was as sharp at dealing as a
+push-cart peddler. Coupeau felt like boxing his ears. For a joke, he
+asked the priest if he didn’t have a second-hand mass that would do for
+a modest young couple. The priest, mumbling that God would take small
+pleasure in blessing their union, finally let him have his mass for
+five francs. Well after all, that meant twenty sous saved.
+
+Gervaise also wanted to look decent. As soon as the marriage was
+settled, she made her arrangements, worked extra time in the evenings,
+and managed to put thirty francs on one side. She had a great longing
+for a little silk mantle marked thirteen francs in the Rue du Faubourg
+Poissonniere. She treated herself to it, and then bought for ten francs
+off the husband of a washerwoman who had died in Madame Fauconnier’s
+house a blue woolen dress, which she altered to fit herself. With the
+seven francs remaining she procured a pair of cotton gloves, a rose for
+her cap, and some shoes for Claude, her eldest boy. Fortunately the
+youngsters’ blouses were passable. She spent four nights cleaning
+everything, and mending the smallest holes in her stockings and
+chemise.
+
+On Friday night, the eve of the great day, Gervaise and Coupeau had
+still a good deal of running about to do up till eleven o’clock, after
+returning home from work. Then before separating for the night they
+spent an hour together in the young woman’s room, happy at being about
+to be released from their awkward position. In spite of the fact that
+they had originally resolved not to put themselves out to impress the
+neighbors, they had ended by taking it seriously and working themselves
+till they were weary. By the time they said “Good-night,” they were
+almost asleep on their feet. They breathed a great sigh of relief now
+that everything was ready.
+
+Coupeau’s witnesses were to be Monsieur Madinier and Bibi-the-Smoker.
+They were counting on Lorilleux and Boche for Gervaise’s witnesses.
+They were to go quietly to the mayor’s office and the church, just the
+six of them, without a whole procession of people trailing behind them.
+The bridegroom’s two sisters had even declared that they would stay
+home, their presence not being necessary. Coupeau’s mother, however,
+had sobbed and wailed, threatening to go ahead of them and hide herself
+in some corner of the church, until they had promised to take her
+along. The meeting of the guests was set for one o’clock at the Silver
+Windmill. From there, they would go to Saint-Denis, going out by
+railroad and returning on foot along the highway in order to work up an
+appetite. The party promised to be quite all right.
+
+Saturday morning, while getting dressed, Coupeau felt a qualm of
+uneasiness in view of the single franc in his pocket. He began to think
+that it was a matter of ordinary courtesy to offer a glass of wine and
+a slice of ham to the witnesses while awaiting dinner. Also, there
+might be unforeseen expenses. So, after taking Claude and Etienne to
+stay with Madame Boche, who was to bring them to the dinner later that
+afternoon, he hurried over to the Rue de la Goutte-d’Or to borrow ten
+francs from Lorilleux. Having to do that griped him immensely as he
+could guess the attitude his brother-in-law would take. The latter did
+grumble a bit, but ended by lending him two five-franc pieces. However,
+Coupeau overheard his sister muttering under her breath, “This is a
+fine beginning.”
+
+The ceremony at the mayor’s was to take place at half-past ten. It was
+beautiful weather—a magnificent sun seemed to roast the streets. So as
+not to be stared at the bride and bridegroom, the old mother, and the
+four witnesses separated into two bands. Gervaise walked in front with
+Lorilleux, who gave her his arm; whilst Monsieur Madinier followed with
+mother Coupeau. Then, twenty steps behind on the opposite side of the
+way, came Coupeau, Boche, and Bibi-the-Smoker. These three were in
+black frock coats, walking erect and swinging their arms. Boche’s
+trousers were bright yellow. Bibi-the-Smoker didn’t have a waistcoat so
+he was buttoned up to the neck with only a bit of his cravat showing.
+The only one in a full dress suit was Monsieur Madinier and passers-by
+gazed at this well-dressed gentleman escorting the huge bulk of mother
+Coupeau in her green shawl and black bonnet with red ribbons.
+
+Gervaise looked very gay and sweet in her dress of vivid blue and with
+her new silk mantle fitted tightly to her shoulders. She listened
+politely to the sneering remarks of Lorilleux, who seemed buried in the
+depths of the immense overcoat he was wearing. From time to time,
+Gervaise would turn her head a little to smile brightly at Coupeau, who
+was rather uncomfortable under the hot sun in his new clothes.
+
+Though they walked very slowly, they arrived at the mayor’s quite half
+an hour too soon. And as the mayor was late, their turn was not reached
+till close upon eleven o’clock. They sat down on some chairs and waited
+in a corner of the apartment, looking by turns at the high ceiling and
+bare walls, talking low, and over-politely pushing back their chairs
+each time that one of the attendants passed. Yet among themselves they
+called the mayor a sluggard, saying he must be visiting his blonde to
+get a massage for his gout, or that maybe he’d swallowed his official
+sash.
+
+However, when the mayor did put in his appearance, they rose
+respectfully in his honor. They were asked to sit down again and they
+had to wait through three other marriages. The hall was crowded with
+the three bourgeois wedding parties: brides all in white, little girls
+with carefully curled hair, bridesmaids wearing wide sashes, an endless
+procession of ladies and gentlemen dressed in their best and looking
+very stylish.
+
+When at length they were called, they almost missed being married
+altogether, Bibi-the-Smoker having disappeared. Boche discovered him
+outside smoking his pipe. Well! They were a nice lot inside there to
+humbug people about like that, just because one hadn’t yellow kid
+gloves to shove under their noses! And the various formalities—the
+reading of the Code, the different questions to be put, the signing of
+all the documents—were all got through so rapidly that they looked at
+each other with an idea that they had been robbed of a good half of the
+ceremony. Gervaise, dizzy, her heart full, pressed her handkerchief to
+her lips. Mother Coupeau wept bitterly. All had signed the register,
+writing their names in big struggling letters with the exception of the
+bridegroom, who not being able to write, had put his cross. They each
+gave four sous for the poor. When an attendant handed Coupeau the
+marriage certificate, the latter, prompted by Gervaise who nudged his
+elbow, handed him another five sous.
+
+It was a fair walk from the mayor’s office in the town hall to the
+church. The men stopped along the way to have a beer. Mother Coupeau
+and Gervaise took cassis with water. Then they had to trudge along the
+long street where the sun glared straight down without the relief of
+shade.
+
+When they arrived at the church they were hurried along and asked if
+they came so late in order to make a mockery of religion. A priest came
+forward, his face pale and resentful from having to delay his lunch. An
+altar boy in a soiled surplice ran before him.
+
+The mass went very fast, with the priest turning, bowing his head,
+spreading out his arms, making all the ritual gestures in haste while
+casting sidelong glances at the group. Gervaise and Coupeau, before the
+altar, were embarrassed, not knowing when they should kneel or rise or
+seat themselves, expecting some indication from the attendant. The
+witnesses, not knowing what was proper, remained standing during the
+ceremony. Mother Coupeau was weeping again and shedding her tears into
+the missal she had borrowed from a neighbor.
+
+Meanwhile, the noon chimes had sounded and the church began to fill
+with noise from the shuffling feet of sacristans and the clatter of
+chairs being put back in place. The high altar was apparently being
+prepared for some special ceremony.
+
+Thus, in the depths of this obscure chapel, amid the floating dust, the
+surly priest placed his withered hands on the bared heads of Gervaise
+and Coupeau, blessing their union amid a hubbub like that of moving
+day. The wedding party signed another registry, this time in the
+sacristy, and then found themselves out in the bright sunlight before
+the church doors where they stood for a moment, breathless and confused
+from having been carried along at such a break-neck speed.
+
+“Voila!” said Coupeau with an embarrassed laugh. “Well, it sure didn’t
+take long. They shove it at you so; it’s like being at the painless
+dentist’s who doesn’t give you time to cry out. Here you get a painless
+wedding!”
+
+“Yes, it’s a quick job,” Lorilleux smirked. “In five minutes you’re
+tied together for the rest of your life. You poor Young Cassis, you’ve
+had it.”
+
+The four witnesses whacked Coupeau on the shoulders as he arched his
+back against the friendly blows. Meanwhile Gervaise was hugging and
+kissing mother Coupeau, her eyes moist, a smile lighting her face. She
+replied reassuringly to the old woman’s sobbing: “Don’t worry, I’ll do
+my best. I want so much to have a happy life. If it doesn’t work out it
+won’t be my fault. Anyhow, it’s done now. It’s up to us to get along
+together and do the best we can for each other.”
+
+After that they went straight to the Silver Windmill. Coupeau had taken
+his wife’s arm. They walked quickly, laughing as though carried away,
+quite two hundred steps ahead of the others, without noticing the
+houses or the passers-by, or the vehicles. The deafening noises of the
+faubourg sounded like bells in their ears. When they reached the
+wineshop, Coupeau at once ordered two bottles of wine, some bread and
+some slices of ham, to be served in the little glazed closet on the
+ground floor, without plates or table cloth, simply to have a snack.
+Then, noticing that Boche and Bibi-the-Smoker seemed to be very hungry,
+he had a third bottle brought, as well as a slab of brie cheese. Mother
+Coupeau was not hungry, being too choked up to be able to eat. Gervaise
+found herself very thirsty, and drank several large glasses of water
+with a small amount of wine added.
+
+“I’ll settle for this,” said Coupeau, going at once to the bar, where
+he paid four francs and five sous.
+
+It was now one o’clock and the other guests began to arrive. Madame
+Fauconnier, a fat woman, still good looking, first put in an
+appearance; she wore a chintz dress with a flowery pattern, a pink tie
+and a cap over-trimmed with flowers. Next came Mademoiselle Remanjou,
+looking very thin in the eternal black dress which she seemed to keep
+on even when she went to bed; and the two Gaudrons—the husband, like
+some heavy animal and almost bursting his brown jacket at the slightest
+movement, the wife, an enormous woman, whose figure indicated evident
+signs of an approaching maternity and whose stiff violet colored skirt
+still more increased her rotundity. Coupeau explained that they were
+not to wait for My-Boots; his comrade would join the party on the Route
+de Saint-Denis.
+
+“Well!” exclaimed Madame Lerat as she entered, “it’ll pour in torrents
+soon! That’ll be pleasant!”
+
+And she called everyone to the door of the wineshop to see the clouds
+as black as ink which were rising rapidly to the south of Paris. Madame
+Lerat, eldest of the Coupeaus, was a tall, gaunt woman who talked
+through her nose. She was unattractively dressed in a puce-colored robe
+that hung loosely on her and had such long dangling fringes that they
+made her look like a skinny poodle coming out of the water. She
+brandished her umbrella like a club. After greeting Gervaise, she said,
+“You’ve no idea. The heat in the street is like a slap on the face.
+You’d think someone was throwing fire at you.”
+
+Everyone agreed that they knew the storm was coming. It was in the air.
+Monsieur Madinier said that he had seen it as they were coming out of
+the church. Lorilleux mentioned that his corns were aching and he
+hadn’t been able to sleep since three in the morning. A storm was due.
+It had been much too hot for three days in a row.
+
+“Well, maybe it will just be a little mist,” Coupeau said several
+times, standing at the door and anxiously studying the sky. “Now we
+have to wait only for my sister. We’ll start as soon as she arrives.”
+
+Madame Lorilleux was late. Madame Lerat had stopped by so they could
+come together, but found her only beginning to get dressed. The two
+sisters had argued. The widow whispered in her brother’s ear, “I left
+her flat! She’s in a dreadful mood. You’ll see.”
+
+And the wedding party had to wait another quarter of an hour, walking
+about the wineshop, elbowed and jostled in the midst of the men who
+entered to drink a glass of wine at the bar. Now and again Boche, or
+Madame Fauconnier, or Bibi-the-Smoker left the others and went to the
+edge of the pavement, looking up at the sky. The storm was not passing
+over at all; a darkness was coming on and puffs of wind, sweeping along
+the ground, raised little clouds of white dust. At the first clap of
+thunder, Mademoiselle Remanjou made the sign of the cross. All the
+glances were anxiously directed to the clock over the looking-glass; it
+was twenty minutes to two.
+
+“Here it goes!” cried Coupeau. “It’s the angels who’re weeping.”
+
+A gush of rain swept the pavement, along which some women flew, holding
+down their skirts with both hands. And it was in the midst of this
+first shower that Madame Lorilleux at length arrived, furious and out
+of breath, and struggling on the threshold with her umbrella that would
+not close.
+
+“Did any one ever see such a thing?” she exclaimed. “It caught me just
+at the door. I felt inclined to go upstairs again and take my things
+off. I should have been wise had I done so. Ah! it’s a pretty wedding!
+I said how it would be. I wanted to put it off till next Saturday; and
+it rains because they wouldn’t listen to me! So much the better, so
+much the better! I wish the sky would burst!”
+
+Coupeau tried to pacify her without success. He wouldn’t have to pay
+for her dress if it was spoilt! She had on a black silk dress in which
+she was nearly choking, the bodice, too tight fitting, was almost
+bursting the button-holes, and was cutting her across the shoulders;
+while the skirt only allowed her to take very short steps in walking.
+However, the ladies present were all staring at her, quite overcome by
+her costume.
+
+She appeared not to notice Gervaise, who was sitting beside mother
+Coupeau. She asked her husband for his handkerchief. Then she went into
+a corner and very carefully wiped off the raindrops that had fallen on
+her silk dress.
+
+The shower had abruptly ceased. The darkness increased, it was almost
+like night—a livid night rent at times by large flashes of lightning.
+Bibi-the-Smoker said laughingly that it would certainly rain priests.
+Then the storm burst forth with extreme violence. For half an hour the
+rain came down in bucketsful, and the thunder rumbled unceasingly. The
+men standing up before the door contemplated the grey veil of the
+downpour, the swollen gutters, the splashes of water caused by the rain
+beating into the puddles. The women, feeling frightened, had sat down
+again, holding their hands before their eyes. They no longer conversed,
+they were too upset. A jest Boche made about the thunder, saying that
+St. Peter was sneezing up there, failed to raise a smile. But, when the
+thunder-claps became less frequent and gradually died away in the
+distance, the wedding guests began to get impatient, enraged against
+the storm, cursing and shaking their fists at the clouds. A fine and
+interminable rain now poured down from the sky which had become an ashy
+grey.
+
+“It’s past two o’clock,” cried Madame Lorilleux. “We can’t stop here
+for ever.”
+
+Mademoiselle Remanjou, having suggested going into the country all the
+same, even though they went no farther than the moat of the
+fortifications, the others scouted the idea: the roads would be in a
+nice state, one would not even be able to sit down on the grass;
+besides, it did not seem to be all over yet, there might perhaps be
+another downpour. Coupeau, who had been watching a workman, completely
+soaked, yet quietly walking along in the rain, murmured:
+
+“If that animal My-Boots is waiting for us on the Route de Saint-Denis,
+he won’t catch a sunstroke.”
+
+That made some of them laugh; but the general ill-humor increased. It
+was becoming ludicrous. They must decide on something unless they
+planned to sit there, staring at each other, until time for dinner. So
+for the next quarter of an hour, while the persistent rain continued,
+they tried to think of what to do. Bibi-the-Smoker suggested that they
+play cards. Boche slyly suggesting a most amusing game, the game of
+true confessions. Madame Gaudron thought of going to eat onion tarts on
+the Chaussee Clignancourt. Madame Lerat wanted to hear some stories.
+Gaudron said he wasn’t a bit put out and thought they were quite well
+off where they were, out of the downpour. He suggested sitting down to
+dinner immediately.
+
+There was a discussion after each proposal. Some said that this would
+put everybody to sleep or that that would make people think they were
+stupid. Lorilleux had to get his word in. He finally suggested a walk
+along the outer Boulevards to Pere Lachaise cemetery. They could visit
+the tomb of Heloise and Abelard. Madame Lorilleux exploded, no longer
+able to control herself. She was leaving, she was. Were they trying to
+make fun of her? She got all dressed up and came out in the rain. And
+for what? To be wasting time in a wineshop. No, she had had enough of
+this wedding party. She’d rather be in her own home. Coupeau and
+Lorilleux had to get between her and the door to keep her from leaving.
+She kept telling them, “Get out of my way! I am leaving, I tell you!”
+
+Lorilleux finally succeeded in calming her down. Coupeau went over to
+Gervaise, who had been sitting quietly in a corner with mother Coupeau
+and Madame Fauconnier.
+
+“You haven’t suggested anything,” he said to her.
+
+“Oh! Whatever they want,” she replied, laughing. “I don’t mind. We can
+go out or stay here.”
+
+She seemed aglow with contentment. She had spoken to each guest as they
+arrived. She spoke sensibly, in her soft voice, not getting into any
+disagreements. During the downpour, she had sat with her eyes wide
+open, watching the lightning as though she could see the future in the
+sudden flashes.
+
+Monsieur Madinier had up to this time not proposed anything. He was
+leaning against the bar, with the tails of his dress coat thrust apart,
+while he fully maintained the important air of an employer. He kept on
+expectorating, and rolled his big eyes about.
+
+“_Mon Dieu_!” said he, “we might go to the Museum.”
+
+And he stroked his chin, as he blinkingly consulted the other members
+of the party.
+
+“There are antiquities, pictures, paintings, a whole heap of things. It
+is very instructive. Perhaps you have never been there. Oh! it is quite
+worth seeing at least once in a while.”
+
+They looked at each other interrogatively. No, Gervaise had never been;
+Madame Fauconnier neither, nor Boche, nor the others. Coupeau thought
+he had been one Sunday, but he was not sure. They hesitated, however,
+when Madame Lorilleux, greatly impressed by Monsieur Madinier’s
+importance, thought the suggestion a very worthy and respectable one.
+As they were wasting the day, and were all dressed up, they might as
+well go somewhere for their own instruction. Everyone approved. Then,
+as it still rained a little, they borrowed some umbrellas from the
+proprietor of the wineshop, old blue, green, and brown umbrellas,
+forgotten by different customers, and started off to the Museum.
+
+The wedding party turned to the right, and descended into Paris along
+the Faubourg Saint-Denis. Coupeau and Gervaise again took the lead,
+almost running and keeping a good distance in front of the others.
+Monsieur Madinier now gave his arm to Madame Lorilleux, mother Coupeau
+having remained behind in the wineshop on account of her old legs. Then
+came Lorilleux and Madame Lerat, Boche and Madame Fauconnier,
+Bibi-the-Smoker and Mademoiselle Remanjou, and finally the two
+Gaudrons. They were twelve and made a pretty long procession on the
+pavement.
+
+“I swear to you, we had nothing to do with it,” Madame Lorilleux
+explained to Monsieur Madinier. “We don’t even know how they met, or,
+we know only too well, but that’s not for us to discuss. My husband
+even had to buy the wedding ring. We were scarcely out of bed this
+morning when he had to lend them ten francs. And, not a member of her
+family at her wedding, what kind of bride is that? She says she has a
+sister in Paris who works for a pork butcher. Why didn’t she invite
+her?” She stopped to point at Gervaise, who was limping awkwardly
+because of the slope of the pavement. “Just look at her. Clump-clump.”
+
+“Clump-clump” ran through the wedding procession. Lorilleux laughed
+under his breath, and said they ought to call her that, but Madame
+Fauconnier stood up for Gervaise. They shouldn’t make fun of her; she
+was neat as a pin and did a good job when there was washing to be done.
+
+When the wedding procession came out of the Faubourg Saint-Denis, they
+had to cross the boulevard. The street had been transformed into a
+morass of sticky mud by the storm. It had started to pour again and
+they had opened the assorted umbrellas. The women picked their way
+carefully through the mud, holding their skirts high as the men held
+the sorry-looking umbrellas over their heads. The procession stretched
+out the width of the street.
+
+“It’s a masquerade!” yelled two street urchins.
+
+People turned to stare. These couples parading across the boulevard
+added a splash of vivid color against the damp background. It was a
+parade of a strange medley of styles showing fancy used clothing such
+as constitute the luxury of the poor. The gentlemen’s hats caused the
+most merriment, old hats preserved for years in dark and dusty
+cupboards, in a variety of comical forms: tall ones, flattened ones,
+sharply peaked ones, hats with extraordinary brims, curled back or
+flat, too narrow or too wide. Then at the very end, Madame Gaudron came
+along with her bright dress over her bulging belly and caused the
+smiles of the audience to grow even wider. The procession made no
+effort to hasten its progress. They were, in fact, rather pleased to
+attract so much attention and admiration.
+
+“Look! Here comes the bride!” one of the urchins shouted, pointing to
+Madame Gaudron. “Oh! Isn’t it too bad! She must have swallowed
+something!”
+
+The entire wedding procession burst into laughter. Bibi-the-Smoker
+turned around and laughed. Madame Gaudron laughed the most of all. She
+wasn’t ashamed as she thought more than one of the women watching had
+looked at her with envy.
+
+They turned into the Rue de Clery. Then they took the Rue du Mail. On
+reaching the Place des Victoires, there was a halt. The bride’s left
+shoe lace had come undone, and as she tied it up again at the foot of
+the statue of Louis XIV., the couples pressed behind her waiting, and
+joking about the bit of calf of her leg that she displayed. At length,
+after passing down the Rue Croix-des-Petits-Champs, they reached the
+Louvre.
+
+Monsieur Madinier politely asked to be their cicerone. It was a big
+place, and they might lose themselves; besides, he knew the best parts,
+because he had often come there with an artist, a very intelligent
+fellow from whom a large dealer bought designs to put on his cardboard
+boxes. Down below, when the wedding party entered the Assyrian Museum,
+a slight shiver passed through it. The deuce! It was not at all warm
+there; the hall would have made a capital cellar. And the couples
+slowly advanced, their chins raised, their eyes blinking, between the
+gigantic stone figures, the black marble gods, dumb in their hieratic
+rigidity, and the monstrous beasts, half cats and half women, with
+death-like faces, attenuated noses, and swollen lips. They thought all
+these things very ugly. The stone carvings of the present day were a
+great deal better. An inscription in Phoenician characters amazed them.
+No one could possibly have ever read that scrawl. But Monsieur
+Madinier, already up on the first landing with Madame Lorilleux, called
+to them, shouting beneath the vaulted ceiling:
+
+“Come along! They’re nothing, all those things! The things to see are
+on the first floor!”
+
+The severe barrenness of the staircase made them very grave. An
+attendant, superbly attired in a red waistcoat and a coat trimmed with
+gold lace, who seemed to be awaiting them on the landing, increased
+their emotion. It was with great respect, and treading as softly as
+possible, that they entered the French Gallery.
+
+Then, without stopping, their eyes occupied with the gilding of the
+frames, they followed the string of little rooms, glancing at the
+passing pictures too numerous to be seen properly. It would have
+required an hour before each, if they had wanted to understand it. What
+a number of pictures! There was no end to them. They must be worth a
+mint of money. Right at the end, Monsieur Madinier suddenly ordered a
+halt opposite the “Raft of the Medusa” and he explained the subject to
+them. All deeply impressed and motionless, they uttered not a word.
+When they started off again, Boche expressed the general feeling,
+saying it was marvellous.
+
+In the Apollo Gallery, the inlaid flooring especially astonished the
+party—a shining floor, as clear as a mirror, and which reflected the
+legs of the seats. Mademoiselle Remanjou kept her eyes closed, because
+she could not help thinking that she was walking on water. They called
+to Madame Gaudron to be careful how she trod on account of her
+condition. Monsieur Madinier wanted to show them the gilding and
+paintings of the ceiling; but it nearly broke their necks to look up
+above, and they could distinguish nothing. Then, before entering the
+Square Salon, he pointed to a window, saying:
+
+“That’s the balcony from which Charles IX. fired on the people.”
+
+He looked back to make sure the party was following. In the middle of
+the Salon Carre, he held up his hand. “There are only masterpieces
+here,” he said, in a subdued voice, as though in church. They went all
+around the room. Gervaise wanted to know about “The Wedding at Cana.”
+Coupeau paused to stare at the “Mona Lisa,” saying that she reminded
+him of one of his aunts. Boche and Bibi-the-Smoker snickered at the
+nudes, pointing them out to each other and winking. The Gaudrons looked
+at the “Virgin” of Murillo, he with his mouth open, she with her hands
+folded on her belly.
+
+When they had been all around the Salon, Monsieur Madinier wished them
+to go round it again, it was so worth while. He was very attentive to
+Madame Lorilleux, because of her silk dress; and each time that she
+questioned him he answered her gravely, with great assurance. She was
+curious about “Titian’s Mistress” because the yellow hair resembled her
+own. He told her it was “La Belle Ferronniere,” a mistress of Henry IV.
+about whom there had been a play at the Ambigu.
+
+Then the wedding party invaded the long gallery occupied by the Italian
+and Flemish schools. More paintings, always paintings, saints, men and
+women, with faces which some of them could understand, landscapes that
+were all black, animals turned yellow, a medley of people and things,
+the great mixture of the colors of which was beginning to give them all
+violent headaches. Monsieur Madinier no longer talked as he slowly
+headed the procession, which followed him in good order, with stretched
+necks and upcast eyes. Centuries of art passed before their bewildered
+ignorance, the fine sharpness of the early masters, the splendors of
+the Venetians, the vigorous life, beautiful with light, of the Dutch
+painters. But what interested them most were the artists who were
+copying, with their easels planted amongst the people, painting away
+unrestrainedly; an old lady, mounted on a pair of high steps, working a
+big brush over the delicate sky of an immense painting, struck them as
+something most peculiar.
+
+Slowly the word must have gone around that a wedding party was visiting
+the Louvre. Several painters came over with big smiles. Some visitors
+were so curious that they went to sit on benches ahead of the group in
+order to be comfortable while they watched them pass in review. Museum
+guards bit back comments. The wedding party was now quite weary and
+beginning to drag their feet.
+
+Monsieur Madinier was reserving himself to give more effect to a
+surprise that he had in store. He went straight to the “Kermesse” of
+Rubens; but still he said nothing. He contented himself with directing
+the others’ attention to the picture by a sprightly glance. The ladies
+uttered faint cries the moment they brought their noses close to the
+painting. Then, blushing deeply they turned away their heads. The men
+though kept them there, cracking jokes, and seeking for the coarser
+details.
+
+“Just look!” exclaimed Boche, “it’s worth the money. There’s one
+spewing, and another, he’s watering the dandelions; and that one—oh!
+that one. Ah, well! They’re a nice clean lot, they are!”
+
+“Let us be off,” said Monsieur Madinier, delighted with his success.
+“There is nothing more to see here.”
+
+They retraced their steps, passing again through the Salon Carre and
+the Apollo Gallery. Madame Lerat and Mademoiselle Remanjou complained,
+declaring that their legs could scarcely bear them. But the cardboard
+box manufacturer wanted to show Lorilleux the old jewelry. It was close
+by in a little room which he could find with his eyes shut. However, he
+made a mistake and led the wedding party astray through seven or eight
+cold, deserted rooms, only ornamented with severe looking-glass cases,
+containing numberless broken pots and hideous little figures.
+
+While looking for an exit they stumbled into the collection of
+drawings. It was immense. Through room after room they saw nothing
+interesting, just scribblings on paper that filled all the cases and
+covered the walls. They thought there was no end to these drawings.
+
+Monsieur Madinier, losing his head, not willing to admit that he did
+not know his way, ascended a flight of stairs, making the wedding party
+mount to the next floor. This time they traversed the Naval Museum,
+among models of instruments and cannons, plans in relief, and vessels
+as tiny as playthings. After going a long way, and walking for a
+quarter of an hour, the party came upon another staircase; and, having
+descended this, found itself once more surrounded by the drawings. Then
+despair took possession of them as they wandered at random through long
+halls, following Monsieur Madinier, who was furious and mopping the
+sweat from his forehead. He accused the government of having moved the
+doors around. Museum guards and visitors looked on with astonishment as
+the procession, still in a column of couples, passed by. They passed
+again through the Salon Carre, the French Gallery and then along the
+cases where minor Eastern divinities slumbered peacefully. It seemed
+they would never find their way out. They were getting tired and made a
+lot of noise.
+
+“Closing time! Closing time!” called out the attendants, in a loud tone
+of voice.
+
+And the wedding party was nearly locked in. An attendant was obliged to
+place himself at the head of it, and conduct it to a door. Then in the
+courtyard of the Louvre, when it had recovered its umbrellas from the
+cloakroom, it breathed again. Monsieur Madinier regained his assurance.
+He had made a mistake in not turning to the left, now he recollected
+that the jewelry was to the left. The whole party pretended to be very
+pleased at having seen all they had.
+
+Four o’clock was striking. There were still two hours to be employed
+before the dinner time, so it was decided they should take a stroll,
+just to occupy the interval. The ladies, who were very tired, would
+have preferred to sit down; but, as no one offered any refreshments,
+they started off, following the line of quays. There they encountered
+another shower and so sharp a one that in spite of the umbrellas, the
+ladies’ dresses began to get wet. Madame Lorilleux, her heart sinking
+within her each time a drop fell upon her black silk, proposed that
+they should shelter themselves under the Pont-Royal; besides if the
+others did not accompany her, she threatened to go all by herself. And
+the procession marched under one of the arches of the bridge. They were
+very comfortable there. It was, most decidedly a capital idea! The
+ladies, spreading their handkerchiefs over the paving-stones, sat down
+with their knees wide apart, and pulled out the blades of grass that
+grew between the stones with both hands, whilst they watched the dark
+flowing water as though they were in the country. The men amused
+themselves with calling out very loud, so as to awaken the echoes of
+the arch. Boche and Bibi-the-Smoker shouted insults into the air at the
+top of their voices, one after the other. They laughed uproariously
+when the echo threw the insults back at them. When their throats were
+hoarse from shouting, they made a game of skipping flat stones on the
+surface of the Seine.
+
+The shower had ceased but the whole party felt so comfortable that no
+one thought of moving away. The Seine was flowing by, an oily sheet
+carrying bottle corks, vegetable peelings, and other refuse that
+sometimes collected in temporary whirlpools moving along with the
+turbulent water. Endless traffic rumbled on the bridge overhead, the
+noisy bustle of Paris, of which they could glimpse only the rooftops to
+the left and right, as though they were in the bottom of a deep pit.
+
+Mademoiselle Remanjou sighed; if the leaves had been out this would
+have reminded her of a bend of the Marne where she used to go with a
+young man. It still made her cry to think of him.
+
+At last, Monsieur Madinier gave the signal for departure. They passed
+through the Tuileries gardens, in the midst of a little community of
+children, whose hoops and balls upset the good order of the couples.
+Then as the wedding party on arriving at the Place Vendome looked up at
+the column, Monsieur Madinier gallantly offered to treat the ladies to
+a view from the top. His suggestion was considered extremely amusing.
+Yes, yes, they would go up; it would give them something to laugh about
+for a long time. Besides, it would be full of interest for those
+persons who had never been higher than a cow pasture.
+
+“Do you think Clump-clump will venture inside there with her leg all
+out of place?” murmured Madame Lorilleux.
+
+“I’ll go up with pleasure,” said Madame Lerat, “but I won’t have any
+men walking behind me.”
+
+And the whole party ascended. In the narrow space afforded by the
+spiral staircase, the twelve persons crawled up one after the other,
+stumbling against the worn steps, and clinging to the walls. Then, when
+the obscurity became complete, they almost split their sides with
+laughing. The ladies screamed when the gentlemen pinched their legs.
+But they were weren’t stupid enough to say anything! The proper plan is
+to think that it is the mice nibbling at them. It wasn’t very serious;
+the men knew when to stop.
+
+Boche thought of a joke and everyone took it up. They called down to
+Madame Gaudron to ask her if she could squeeze her belly through. Just
+think! If she should get stuck there, she would completely block the
+passage, and how would they ever get out? They laughed so at the jokes
+about her belly that the column itself vibrated. Boche was now quite
+carried away and declared that they were growing old climbing up this
+chimney pipe. Was it ever coming to an end, or did it go right up to
+heaven? He tried to frighten the ladies by telling them the structure
+was shaking.
+
+Coupeau, meanwhile, said nothing. He was behind Gervaise, with his arm
+around her waist, and felt that she was everything perfect to him. When
+they suddenly emerged again into the daylight, he was just in the act
+of kissing her on the cheek.
+
+“Well! You’re a nice couple; you don’t stand on ceremony,” said Madame
+Lorilleux with a scandalized air.
+
+Bibi-the-Smoker pretended to be furious. He muttered between his teeth.
+“You made such a noise together! I wasn’t even able to count the
+steps.”
+
+But Monsieur Madinier was already up on the platform, pointing out the
+different monuments. Neither Madame Fauconnier nor Mademoiselle
+Remanjou would on any consideration leave the staircase. The thought of
+the pavement below made their blood curdle, and they contented
+themselves with glancing out of the little door. Madame Lerat, who was
+bolder, went round the narrow terrace, keeping close to the bronze
+dome; but, _mon Dieu_, it gave one a rude emotion to think that one
+only had to slip off. The men were a little paler than usual as they
+stared down at the square below. You would think you were up in
+mid-air, detached from everything. No, it wasn’t fun, it froze your
+very insides.
+
+Monsieur Madinier told them to raise their eyes and look straight into
+the distance to avoid feeling dizzy. He went on pointing out the
+Invalides, the Pantheon, Notre Dame and the Montmartre hill. Madame
+Lorilleux asked if they could see the place where they were to have
+dinner, the Silver Windmill on the Boulevard de la Chapelle. For ten
+minutes they tried to see it, even arguing about it. Everyone had their
+own idea where it was.
+
+“It wasn’t worth while coming up here to bite each other’s noses off,”
+said Boche, angrily as he turned to descend the staircase.
+
+The wedding party went down, unspeaking and sulky, awakening no other
+sound beyond that of shoes clanking on the stone steps. When it reached
+the bottom, Monsieur Madinier wished to pay; but Coupeau would not
+permit him, and hastened to place twenty-four sous into the keeper’s
+hand, two sous for each person. So they returned by the Boulevards and
+the Faubourg du Poissonniers. Coupeau, however, considered that their
+outing could not end like that. He bundled them all into a wineshop
+where they took some vermouth.
+
+The repast was ordered for six o’clock. At the Silver Windmill, they
+had been waiting for the wedding party for a good twenty minutes.
+Madame Boche, who had got a lady living in the same house to attend to
+her duties for the evening, was conversing with mother Coupeau in the
+first floor room, in front of the table, which was all laid out; and
+the two youngsters, Claude and Etienne, whom she had brought with her,
+were playing about beneath the table and amongst the chairs. When
+Gervaise, on entering caught sight of the little ones, whom she had not
+seen all the day, she took them on her knees, and caressed and kissed
+them.
+
+“Have they been good?” asked she of Madame Boche. “I hope they haven’t
+worried you too much.”
+
+And as the latter related the things the little rascals had done during
+the afternoon, and which would make one die with laughing, the mother
+again took them up and pressed them to her breast, seized with an
+overpowering outburst of maternal affection.
+
+“It’s not very pleasant for Coupeau, all the same,” Madame Lorilleux
+was saying to the other ladies, at the end of the room.
+
+Gervaise had kept her smiling peacefulness from the morning, but after
+the long walk she appeared almost sad at times as she watched her
+husband and the Lorilleuxs in a thoughtful way. She had the feeling
+that Coupeau was a little afraid of his sister. The evening before, he
+had been talking big, swearing he would put them in their places if
+they didn’t behave. However, she could see that in their presence he
+was hanging on their words, worrying when he thought they might be
+displeased. This gave the young bride some cause for worry about the
+future.
+
+They were now only waiting for My-Boots, who had not yet put in an
+appearance.
+
+“Oh! blow him!” cried Coupeau, “let’s begin. You’ll see, he’ll soon
+turn up, he’s got a hollow nose, he can scent the grub from afar. I say
+he must be amusing himself, if he’s still standing like a post on the
+Route de Saint-Denis!”
+
+Then the wedding party, feeling very lively, sat down making a great
+noise with the chairs. Gervaise was between Lorilleux and Monsieur
+Madinier, and Coupeau between Madame Fauconnier and Madame Lorilleux.
+The other guests seated themselves where they liked, because it always
+ended with jealousies and quarrels, when one settled their places for
+them. Boche glided to a seat beside Madame Lerat. Bibi-the-Smoker had
+for neighbors Mademoiselle Remanjou and Madame Gaudron. As for Madame
+Boche and mother Coupeau, they were right at the end of the table,
+looking after the children, cutting up their meat and giving them
+something to drink, but not much wine.
+
+“Does nobody say grace?” asked Boche, whilst the ladies arranged their
+skirts under the table-cloth, so as not to get them stained.
+
+But Madame Lorilleux paid no attention to such pleasantries. The
+vermicelli soup, which was nearly cold, was gulped down very quickly,
+their lips making a hissing noise against the spoons. Two waiters
+served at table, dressed in little greasy jackets and not over-clean
+white aprons. By the four open windows overlooking the acacias of the
+courtyard there entered the clear light of the close of a stormy day,
+with the atmosphere purified thereby though without sufficiently
+cooling it. The light reflected from the humid corner of trees tinged
+the haze-filled room with green and made leaf shadows dance along the
+table-cloth, from which came a vague aroma of dampness and mildew.
+
+Two large mirrors, one at each end of the room, seemed to stretch out
+the table. The heavy crockery with which it was set was beginning to
+turn yellow and the cutlery was scratched and grimed with grease. Each
+time a waiter came through the swinging doors from the kitchen a whiff
+of odorous burnt lard came with him.
+
+“Don’t all talk at once,” said Boche, as everyone remained silent with
+his nose in his plate.
+
+They were drinking the first glass of wine as their eyes followed two
+meat pies which the waiters were handing round when My-Boots entered
+the room.
+
+“Well, you’re a scurvy lot, you people!” said he. “I’ve been wearing my
+pins out for three hours waiting on that road, and a gendarme even came
+and asked me for my papers. It isn’t right to play such dirty tricks on
+a friend! You might at least have sent me word by a commissionaire. Ah!
+no, you know, joking apart, it’s too bad. And with all that, it rained
+so hard that I got my pickets full of water. Honor bright, you might
+still catch enough fish in ’em for a meal.”
+
+The others wriggled with laughter. That animal My-Boots was just a bit
+on; he had certainly already stowed away his two quarts of wine, merely
+to prevent his being bothered by all that frog’s liquor with which the
+storm had deluged his limbs.
+
+“Hallo! Count Leg-of-Mutton!” said Coupeau, “just go and sit yourself
+there, beside Madame Gaudron. You see you were expected.”
+
+Oh, he did not mind, he would soon catch the others up; and he asked
+for three helpings of soup, platefuls of vermicelli, in which he soaked
+enormous slices of bread. Then, when they had attacked the meat pies,
+he became the profound admiration of everyone at the table. How he
+stowed it away! The bewildered waiters helped each other to pass him
+bread, thin slices which he swallowed at a mouthful. He ended by losing
+his temper; he insisted on having a loaf placed on the table beside
+him. The landlord, very anxious, came for a moment and looked in at the
+door. The party, which was expecting him, again wriggled with laughter.
+It seemed to upset the caterer. What a rum card he was that My-Boots!
+One day he had eaten a dozen hard-boiled eggs and drank a dozen glasses
+of wine while the clock was striking twelve! There are not many who can
+do that. And Mademoiselle Remanjou, deeply moved, watched My-Boots chew
+whilst Monsieur Madinier, seeking for a word to express his almost
+respectful astonishment, declared that such a capacity was
+extraordinary.
+
+There was a brief silence. A waiter had just placed on the table a
+ragout of rabbits in a vast dish as deep as a salad-bowl. Coupeau, who
+liked fun, started another joke.
+
+“I say, waiter, that rabbit’s from the housetops. It still mews.”
+
+And in fact, a faint mew perfectly imitated seemed to issue from the
+dish. It was Coupeau who did that with his throat, without opening his
+lips; a talent which at all parties, met with decided success, so much
+so that he never ordered a dinner abroad without having a rabbit
+ragout. After that he purred. The ladies pressed their napkins to their
+mouths to try and stop their laughter. Madame Fauconnier asked for a
+head, she only liked that part. Mademoiselle Remanjou had a weakness
+for the slices of bacon. And as Boche said he preferred the little
+onions when they were nicely broiled, Madame Lerat screwed up her lips,
+and murmured:
+
+“I can understand that.”
+
+She was a dried up stick, living the cloistered life of a hard-working
+woman imprisoned within her daily routine, who had never had a man
+stick his nose into her room since the death of her husband; yet she
+had an obsession with double meanings and indecent allusions that were
+sometimes so far off the mark that only she understood them.
+
+As Boche leaned toward her and, in a whisper, asked for an explanation,
+she resumed:
+
+“Little onions, why of course. That’s quite enough, I think.”
+
+The general conversation was becoming grave. Each one was talking of
+his trade. Monsieur Madinier raved about the cardboard business. There
+were some real artists. For an example, he mentioned Christmas gift
+boxes, of which he’d seen samples that were marvels of splendor.
+
+Lorilleux sneered at this; he was extremely vain because of working
+with gold, feeling that it gave a sort of sheen to his fingers and his
+whole personality. “In olden times jewelers wore swords like
+gentlemen.” He often cited the case of Bernard Palissy, even though he
+really knew nothing about him.
+
+Coupeau told of a masterpiece of a weather vane made by one of his
+fellow workers which included a Greek column, a sheaf of wheat, a
+basket of fruit, and a flag, all beautifully worked out of nothing but
+strips of zinc shaped and soldered together.
+
+Madame Lerat showed Bibi-the-Smoker how to make a rose by rolling the
+handle of her knife between her bony fingers.
+
+All the while, their voices had been rising louder and louder,
+competing for attention. Shrill comments by Madame Fauconnier were
+heard. She complained about the girls who worked for her, especially a
+little apprentice who was nothing but a tart and had badly scorched
+some sheets the evening before.
+
+“You may talk,” Lorilleux cried, banging his fist down on the table,
+“but gold is gold.”
+
+And, in the midst of the silence caused by the statement of this fact,
+the only sound heard was Mademoiselle Remanjou’s shrill voice
+continuing:
+
+“Then I turn up the skirt and stitch it inside. I stick a pin in the
+head to keep the cap on, and that’s all; and they are sold for thirteen
+sous a piece.”
+
+She was explaining how she dressed her dolls to My-Boots, whose jaws
+were working slowly like grindstones. He did not listen, though he kept
+nodding his head, but looked after the waiters to prevent them removing
+any of the dishes he had not cleaned out. They had now finished a veal
+stew with green beans. The roast was brought in, two scrawny chickens
+resting on a bed of water cress which was limp from the warming oven.
+
+Outside, only the higher branches of the acacias were touched by the
+setting sun. Inside, the greenish reflected light was thickened by
+wisps of steam rising from the table, now messy with spilled wine and
+gravy and the debris of the dinner. Along the wall were dirty dishes
+and empty bottles which the waiters had piled there like a heap of
+refuse. It was so hot that the men took off their jackets and continued
+eating in their shirt sleeves.
+
+“Madame Boche, please don’t spread their butter so thick,” said
+Gervaise, who spoke but little, and who was watching Claude and Etienne
+from a distance.
+
+She got up from her seat, and went and talked for a minute while
+standing behind the little ones’ chairs. Children did not reason; they
+would eat all day long without refusing a single thing; and then she
+herself helped them to some chicken, a little of the breast. But mother
+Coupeau said they might, just for once in a while, risk an attack of
+indigestion. Madame Boche, in a low voice accused Boche of caressing
+Madame Lerat’s knees. Oh, he was a sly one, but he was getting a little
+too gay. She had certainly seen his hand disappear. If he did it again,
+drat him! she wouldn’t hesitate throwing a pitcher of water over his
+head.
+
+In the partial silence, Monsieur Madinier was talking politics. “Their
+law of May 31, is an abominable one. Now you must reside in a place for
+two years. Three millions of citizens are struck off the voting lists.
+I’ve been told that Bonaparte is, in reality, very much annoyed for he
+loves the people; he has given them proofs.”
+
+He was a republican; but he admired the prince on account of his uncle,
+a man the like of whom would never be seen again. Bibi-the-Smoker flew
+into a passion. He had worked at the Elysee; he had seen Bonaparte just
+as he saw My-Boots in front of him over there. Well that muff of a
+president was just like a jackass, that was all! It was said that he
+was going to travel about in the direction of Lyons; it would be a
+precious good riddance of bad rubbish if he fell into some hole and
+broke his neck. But, as the discussion was becoming too heated, Coupeau
+had to interfere.
+
+“Ah, well! How simple you all are to quarrel about politics. Politics
+are all humbug! Do such things exist for us? Let there be any one as
+king, it won’t prevent me earning my five francs a day, and eating and
+sleeping; isn’t that so? No, it’s too stupid to argue about!”
+
+Lorilleux shook his head. He was born on the same day as the Count of
+Chambord, the 29th of September, 1820. He was greatly struck with this
+coincidence, indulging himself in a vague dream, in which he
+established a connection between the king’s return to France and his
+own private fortunes. He never said exactly what he was expecting, but
+he led people to suppose that when that time arrived something
+extraordinarily agreeable would happen to him. So whenever he had a
+wish too great to be gratified, he would put it off to another time,
+when the king came back.
+
+“Besides,” observed he, “I saw the Count de Chambord one evening.”
+
+Every face was turned towards him.
+
+“It’s quite true. A stout man, in an overcoat, and with a good-natured
+air. I was at Pequignot’s, one of my friends who deals in furniture in
+the Grand Rue de la Chapelle. The Count of Chambord had forgotten his
+umbrella there the day before; so he came in, and just simply said,
+like this: ‘Will you please return me my umbrella?’ Well, yes, it was
+him; Pequignot gave me his word of honor it was.”
+
+Not one of the guests suggested the smallest doubt. They had now
+arrived at dessert and the waiters were clearing the table with much
+clattering of dishes. Madame Lorilleux, who up to then had been very
+genteel, very much the lady, suddenly let fly with a curse. One of the
+waiters had spilled something wet down her neck while removing a dish.
+This time her silk dress would be stained for sure. Monsieur Madinier
+had to examine her back, but he swore there was nothing to be seen.
+
+Two platters of cheese, two dishes of fruit, and a floating island
+pudding of frosted eggs in a deep salad-bowl had now been placed along
+the middle of the table. The pudding caused a moment of respectful
+attention even though the overdone egg whites had flattened on the
+yellow custard. It was unexpected and seemed very fancy.
+
+My-Boots was still eating. He had asked for another loaf. He finished
+what there was of the cheese; and, as there was some cream left, he had
+the salad-bowl passed to him, into which he sliced some large pieces of
+bread as though for a soup.
+
+“The gentleman is really remarkable,” said Monsieur Madinier, again
+giving way to his admiration.
+
+Then the men rose to get their pipes. They stood for a moment behind
+My-Boots, patting him on the back, and asking him if he was feeling
+better. Bibi-the-Smoker lifted him up in his chair; but _tonnerre de
+Dieu!_ the animal had doubled in weight. Coupeau joked that My-Boots
+was only getting started, that now he was going to settle down and
+really eat for the rest of the night. The waiters were startled and
+quickly vanished from sight.
+
+Boche, who had gone downstairs for a moment, came up to report the
+proprietor’s reaction. He was standing behind his bar, pale as death.
+His wife, dreadfully upset, was wondering if any bakeries were still
+open. Even the cat seemed deep in despair. This was as funny as could
+be, really worth the price of the dinner. It was impossible to have a
+proper dinner party without My-Boots, the bottomless pit. The other men
+eyed him with a brooding jealousy as they puffed on their pipes.
+Indeed, to be able to eat so much, you had to be very solidly built!
+
+“I wouldn’t care to be obliged to support you,” said Madame Gaudron.
+“Ah, no; you may take my word for that!”
+
+“I say, little mother, no jokes,” replied My-Boots, casting a side
+glance at his neighbor’s rotund figure. “You’ve swallowed more than I
+have.”
+
+The others applauded, shouting “Bravo!”—it was well answered. It was
+now pitch dark outside, three gas-jets were flaring in the room,
+diffusing dim rays in the midst of the tobacco-smoke. The waiters,
+after serving the coffee and the brandy, had removed the last piles of
+dirty plates. Down below, beneath the three acacias, dancing had
+commenced, a cornet-a-piston and two fiddles playing very loud, and
+mingling in the warm night air with the rather hoarse laughter of
+women.
+
+“We must have a punch!” cried My-Boots; “two quarts of brandy, lots of
+lemon, and a little sugar.”
+
+But Coupeau, seeing the anxious look on Gervaise’s face in front of
+him, got up from the table, declaring that there should be no more
+drink. They had emptied twenty-five quarts, a quart and a half to each
+person, counting the children as grown-up people; that was already too
+much. They had had a feed together in good fellowship, and without
+ceremony, because they esteemed each other, and wished to celebrate the
+event of the day amongst themselves. Everything had been very nice;
+they had had lots of fun. It wouldn’t do to get cockeyed drunk now, out
+of respect to the ladies. That was all he had to say, they had come
+together to toast a marriage and they had done so.
+
+Coupeau delivered the little speech with convincing sincerity and
+punctuated each phrase by placing his hand on his heart. He won
+whole-hearted approval from Lorilleux and Monsieur Madinier; but the
+other four men, especially My-Boots, were already well lit and sneered.
+They declared in hoarse drunken voices that they were thirsty and
+wanted drinks.
+
+“Those who’re thirsty are thirsty, and those who aren’t thirsty aren’t
+thirsty,” remarked My-Boots. “Therefore, we’ll order the punch. No one
+need take offence. The aristocrats can drink sugar-and-water.”
+
+And as the zinc-worker commenced another sermon, the other, who had
+risen on his legs, gave himself a slap, exclaiming:
+
+“Come, let’s have no more of that, my boy! Waiter, two quarts of your
+aged stuff!”
+
+So Coupeau said very well, only they would settle for the dinner at
+once. It would prevent any disputes. The well-behaved people did not
+want to pay for the drunkards; and it just happened that My-Boots,
+after searching in his pockets for a long time, could only produce
+three francs and seven sous. Well, why had they made him wait all that
+time on the Route de Saint-Denis? He could not let himself be drowned
+and so he had broken into his five-franc piece. It was the fault of the
+others, that was all! He ended by giving the three francs, keeping the
+seven sous for the morrow’s tobacco. Coupeau, who was furious, would
+have knocked him over had not Gervaise, greatly frightened, pulled him
+by his coat, and begged him to keep cool. He decided to borrow the two
+francs of Lorilleux, who after refusing them, lent them on the sly, for
+his wife would never have consented to his doing so.
+
+Monsieur Madinier went round with a plate. The spinster and the ladies
+who were alone—Madame Lerat, Madame Fauconnier, Mademoiselle
+Remanjou—discreetly placed their five-franc pieces in it first. Then
+the gentlemen went to the other end of the room, and made up the
+accounts. They were fifteen; it amounted therefore to seventy-five
+francs. When the seventy-five francs were in the plate, each man added
+five sous for the waiters. It took a quarter of an hour of laborious
+calculations before everything was settled to the general satisfaction.
+
+But when Monsieur Madinier, who wished to deal direct with the
+landlord, had got him to step up, the whole party became lost in
+astonishment on hearing him say with a smile that there was still
+something due to him. There were some extras; and, as the word “extras”
+was greeted with angry exclamations, he entered into
+details:—Twenty-five quarts of wine, instead of twenty, the number
+agreed upon beforehand; the frosted eggs, which he had added, as the
+dessert was rather scanty; finally, a quarter of a bottle of rum,
+served with the coffee, in case any one preferred rum. Then a
+formidable quarrel ensued. Coupeau, who was appealed to, protested
+against everything; he had never mentioned twenty quarts; as for the
+frosted eggs, they were included in the dessert, so much the worse for
+the landlord if he choose to add them without being asked to do so.
+There remained the rum, a mere nothing, just a mode of increasing the
+bill by putting on the table spirits that no one thought anything
+about.
+
+“It was on the tray with the coffee,” he cried; “therefore it goes with
+the coffee. Go to the deuce! Take your money, and never again will we
+set foot in your den!”
+
+“It’s six francs more,” repeated the landlord. “Pay me my six francs;
+and with all that I haven’t counted the four loaves that gentleman
+ate!”
+
+The whole party, pressing forward, surrounded him with furious gestures
+and a yelping of voices choking with rage. The women especially threw
+aside all reserve, and refused to add another centime. This was some
+wedding dinner! Mademoiselle Remanjou vowed she would never again
+attend such a party. Madame Fauconnier declared she had had a very
+disappointing meal; at home she could have had a finger-licking dish
+for only two francs. Madame Gaudron bitterly complained that she had
+been shoved down to the worst end of the table next to My-Boots who had
+ignored her. These parties never turned out well, one should be more
+careful whom one invites. Gervaise had taken refuge with mother Coupeau
+near one of the windows, feeling shamed as she realized that all these
+recriminations would fall back upon her.
+
+Monsieur Madinier ended by going down with the landlord. One could hear
+them arguing below. Then, when half an hour had gone by the cardboard
+box manufacturer returned; he had settled the matter by giving three
+francs. But the party continued annoyed and exasperated, constantly
+returning to the question of the extras. And the uproar increased from
+an act of vigor on Madame Boche’s part. She had kept an eye on Boche,
+and at length detected him squeezing Madame Lerat round the waist in a
+corner. Then, with all her strength, she flung a water pitcher, which
+smashed against the wall.
+
+“One can easily see that your husband’s a tailor, madame,” said the
+tall widow, with a curl of the lip, full of a double meaning. “He’s a
+petticoat specialist, even though I gave him some pretty hard kicks
+under the table.”
+
+The harmony of the evening was altogether upset. Everyone became more
+and more ill-tempered. Monsieur Madinier suggested some singing, but
+Bibi-the-Smoker, who had a fine voice, had disappeared some time
+before; and Mademoiselle Remanjou, who was leaning out of the window,
+caught sight of him under the acacias, swinging round a big girl who
+was bare-headed. The cornet-a-piston and two fiddles were playing “_Le
+Marchand de Moutarde_.” The party now began to break up. My-Boots and
+the Gaudrons went down to the dance with Boche sneaking along after
+them. The twirling couples could be seen from the windows. The night
+was still as though exhausted from the heat of the day. A serious
+conversation started between Lorilleux and Monsieur Madinier. The
+ladies examined their dresses carefully to see if they had been
+stained.
+
+Madame Lerat’s fringe looked as though it had been dipped in the
+coffee. Madame Fauconnier’s chintz dress was spotted with gravy. Mother
+Coupeau’s green shawl, fallen from off a chair, was discovered in a
+corner, rolled up and trodden upon. But it was Madame Lorilleux
+especially who became more ill-tempered still. She had a stain on the
+back of her dress; it was useless for the others to declare that she
+had not—she felt it. And, by twisting herself about in front of a
+looking-glass, she ended by catching a glimpse of it.
+
+“What did I say?” cried she. “It’s gravy from the fowl. The waiter
+shall pay for the dress. I will bring an action against him. Ah! this
+is a fit ending to such a day. I should have done better to have stayed
+in bed. To begin with, I’m off. I’ve had enough of their wretched
+wedding!”
+
+And she left the room in a rage, causing the staircase to shake beneath
+her heavy footsteps. Lorilleux ran after her. But all she would consent
+to was that she would wait five minutes on the pavement outside, if he
+wanted them to go off together. She ought to have left directly after
+the storm, as she wished to do. She would make Coupeau sorry for that
+day. Coupeau was dismayed when he heard how angry she was. Gervaise
+agreed to leave at once to avoid embarrassing him any more.
+
+There was a flurry of quick good-night kisses. Monsieur Madinier was to
+escort mother Coupeau home. Madame Boche would take Claude and Etienne
+with her for the bridal night. The children were sound asleep on
+chairs, stuffed full from the dinner. Just as the bridal couple and
+Lorilleux were about to go out the door, a quarrel broke out near the
+dance floor between their group and another group. Boche and My-Boots
+were kissing a lady and wouldn’t give her up to her escorts, two
+soldiers.
+
+It was scarcely eleven o’clock. On the Boulevard de la Chapelle, and in
+the entire neighborhood of the Goutte-d’Or, the fortnight’s pay, which
+fell due on that Saturday, produced an enormous drunken uproar. Madame
+Lorilleux was waiting beneath a gas-lamp about twenty paces from the
+Silver Windmill. She took her husband’s arm, and walked on in front
+without looking round, at such a rate, that Gervaise and Coupeau got
+quite out of breath in trying to keep up with them. Now and again they
+stepped off the pavement to leave room for some drunkard who had fallen
+there. Lorilleux looked back, endeavoring to make things pleasant.
+
+“We will see you as far as your door,” said he.
+
+But Madame Lorilleux, raising her voice, thought it a funny thing to
+spend one’s wedding night in such a filthy hole as the Hotel Boncoeur.
+Ought they not to have put their marriage off, and have saved a few
+sous to buy some furniture, so as to have had a home of their own on
+the first night? Ah! they would be comfortable, right up under the
+roof, packed into a little closet, at ten francs a month, where there
+was not even the slightest air.
+
+“I’ve given notice, we’re not going to use the room up at the top of
+the house,” timidly interposed Coupeau. “We are keeping Gervaise’s
+room, which is larger.”
+
+Madame Lorilleux forgot herself. She turned abruptly round.
+
+“That’s worse than all!” cried she. “You’re going to sleep in
+Clump-clump’s room.”
+
+Gervaise became quite pale. This nickname, which she received full in
+the face for the first time, fell on her like a blow. And she fully
+understood it, too, her sister-in-law’s exclamation: the Clump-clump’s
+room was the room in which she had lived for a month with Lantier,
+where the shreds of her past life still hung about. Coupeau did not
+understand this, but merely felt hurt at the harsh nickname.
+
+“You do wrong to christen others,” he replied angrily. “You don’t know
+perhaps, that in the neighborhood they call you Cow’s-Tail, because of
+your hair. There, that doesn’t please you, does it? Why should we not
+keep the room on the first floor? To-night the children won’t sleep
+there, and we shall be very comfortable.”
+
+Madame Lorilleux added nothing further, but retired into her dignity,
+horribly annoyed at being called Cow’s-Tail. To cheer up Gervaise,
+Coupeau squeezed her arm softly. He even succeeded in making her smile
+by whispering into her ear that they were setting up housekeeping with
+the grand sum of seven sous, three big two-sou pieces and one little
+sou, which he jingled in his pocket.
+
+When they reached the Hotel Boncoeur, the two couples wished each other
+good-night, with an angry air; and as Coupeau pushed the two women into
+each other’s arms, calling them a couple of ninnies, a drunken fellow,
+who seemed to want to go to the right, suddenly slipped to the left and
+came tumbling between them.
+
+“Why, it’s old Bazouge!” said Lorilleux. “He’s had his fill to-day.”
+
+Gervaise, frightened, squeezed up against the door of the hotel. Old
+Bazouge, an undertaker’s helper of some fifty years of age, had his
+black trousers all stained with mud, his black cape hooked on to his
+shoulder, and his black feather hat knocked in by some tumble he had
+taken.
+
+“Don’t be afraid, he’s harmless,” continued Lorilleux. “He’s a neighbor
+of ours—the third room in the passage before us. He would find himself
+in a nice mess if his people were to see him like this!”
+
+Old Bazouge, however, felt offended at the young woman’s evident
+terror.
+
+“Well, what!” hiccoughed he, “we ain’t going to eat any one. I’m as
+good as another any day, my little woman. No doubt I’ve had a drop!
+When work’s plentiful one must grease the wheels. It’s not you, nor
+your friends, who would have carried down the stiff ’un of forty-seven
+stone whom I and a pal brought from the fourth floor to the pavement,
+and without smashing him too. I like jolly people.”
+
+But Gervaise retreated further into the doorway, seized with a longing
+to cry, which spoilt her day of sober-minded joy. She no longer thought
+of kissing her sister-in-law, she implored Coupeau to get rid of the
+drunkard. Then Bazouge, as he stumbled about, made a gesture of
+philosophical disdain.
+
+“That won’t prevent you passing though our hands, my little woman.
+You’ll perhaps be glad to do so, one of these days. Yes, I know some
+women who’d be much obliged if we did carry them off.”
+
+And, as Lorilleux led him away, he turned around, and stuttered out a
+last sentence, between two hiccoughs.
+
+“When you’re dead—listen to this—when you’re dead, it’s for a long,
+long time.”
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER IV.
+
+
+Then followed four years of hard work. In the neighborhood, Gervaise
+and Coupeau had the reputation of being a happy couple, living in
+retirement without quarrels, and taking a short walk regularly every
+Sunday in the direction of St. Ouen. The wife worked twelve hours a day
+at Madame Fauconnier’s, and still found means to keep their lodging as
+clean and bright as a new coined sou and to prepare the meals for all
+her little family, morning and evening. The husband never got drunk,
+brought his wages home every fortnight, and smoked a pipe at his window
+in the evening, to get a breath of fresh air before going to bed. They
+were frequently alluded to on account of their nice, pleasant ways; and
+as between them they earned close upon nine francs a day, it was
+reckoned that they were able to put by a good deal of money.
+
+However, during their first months together they had to struggle hard
+to get by. Their wedding had left them owing two hundred francs. Also,
+they detested the Hotel Boncoeur as they didn’t like the other
+occupants. Their dream was to have a home of their own with their own
+furniture. They were always figuring how much they would need and
+decided three hundred and fifty francs at least, in order to be able to
+buy little items that came up later.
+
+They were in despair at ever being able to collect such a large sum
+when a lucky chance came their way. An old gentleman at Plassans
+offered to take the older boy, Claude, and send him to an academy down
+there. The old man, who loved art, had previously been much impressed
+by Claude’s sketches. Claude had already begun to cost them quite a
+bit. Now, with only Etienne to support, they were able to accumulate
+the money in a little over seven months. One day they were finally able
+to buy their own furniture from a second-hand dealer on Rue Belhomme.
+Their hearts filled with happiness, they celebrated by walking home
+along the exterior Boulevards.
+
+They had purchased a bed, a night table, a chest of drawers with a
+marble top, a wardrobe, a round table covered with oilcloth, and six
+chairs. All were of dark mahogany. They also bought blankets, linen,
+and kitchen utensils that were scarcely used. It meant settling down
+and giving themselves a status in life as property owners, as persons
+to be respected.
+
+For two months past they had been busy seeking some new apartments. At
+first they wanted above everything to hire these in the big house of
+the Rue de la Goutte-d’Or. But there was not a single room to let
+there; so that they had to relinquish their old dream. To tell the
+truth, Gervaise was rather glad in her heart; the neighborhood of the
+Lorilleux almost door to door, frightened her immensely. Then, they
+looked about elsewhere. Coupeau, very properly did not wish to be far
+from Madame Fauconnier’s so that Gervaise could easily run home at any
+hour of the day. And at length they met with exactly what suited them,
+a large room with a small closet and a kitchen, in the Rue Neuve de la
+Goutte-d’Or, almost opposite the laundress’s. This was in a small
+two-story building with a very steep staircase. There were two
+apartments on the second floor, one to the left, the other to the
+right, The ground floor was occupied by a man who rented out carriages,
+which filled the sheds in the large stable yard by the street.
+
+Gervaise was delighted with this as it made her feel she was back in a
+country town. With no close neighbors there would be no gossip to worry
+about in this little corner. It reminded her of a small lane outside
+the ramparts of Plassans. She could even see her own window while
+ironing at the laundry by just tilting her head to the side.
+
+They took possession of their new abode at the April quarter. Gervaise
+was then eight months advanced. But she showed great courage, saying
+with a laugh that the baby helped her as she worked; she felt its
+influence growing within her and giving her strength. Ah, well! She
+just laughed at Coupeau whenever he wanted her to lie down and rest
+herself! She would take to her bed when the labor pains came. That
+would be quite soon enough as with another mouth to feed, they would
+have to work harder than ever.
+
+She made their new place bright and shiny before helping her husband
+install the furniture. She loved the furniture, polishing it and
+becoming almost heart-broken at the slightest scratch. Any time she
+knocked into the furniture while cleaning she would stop with a sudden
+shock as though she had hurt herself.
+
+The chest of drawers was especially dear to her. She thought it
+handsome, sturdy and most respectable-looking. The dream that she
+hadn’t dared to mention was to get a clock and put it right in the
+middle of the marble top. It would make a splendid effect. She probably
+would have bought one right away except for the expected baby.
+
+The couple were thoroughly enchanted with their new home. Etienne’s bed
+occupied the small closet, where there was still room to put another
+child’s crib. The kitchen was a very tiny affair and as dark as night,
+but by leaving the door wide open, one could just manage to see;
+besides, Gervaise had not to cook meals for thirty people, all she
+wanted was room to make her soup. As for the large room, it was their
+pride. The first thing in the morning, they drew the curtains of the
+alcove, white calico curtains; and the room was thus transformed into a
+dining-room, with the table in the centre, and the wardrobe and chest
+of drawers facing each other.
+
+They stopped up the chimney since it burned as much as fifteen sous of
+coal a day. A small cast-iron stove on the marble hearth gave them
+enough warmth on cold days for only seven sous. Coupeau had also done
+his best to decorate the walls. There was a large engraving showing a
+marshal of France on horseback with a baton in his hand. Family
+photographs were arranged in two rows on top of the chest of drawers on
+each side of an old holy-water basin in which they kept matches. Busts
+of Pascal and Beranger were on top of the wardrobe. It was really a
+handsome room.
+
+“Guess how much we pay here?” Gervaise would ask of every visitor she
+had.
+
+And whenever they guessed too high a sum, she triumphed and delighted
+at being so well suited for such a little money, cried:
+
+“One hundred and fifty francs, not a sou more! Isn’t it almost like
+having it for nothing!”
+
+The street, Rue Neuve de la Goutte d’Or, played an important part in
+their contentment. Gervaise’s whole life was there, as she traveled
+back and forth endlessly between her home and Madame Fauconnier’s
+laundry. Coupeau now went down every evening and stood on the doorstep
+to smoke his pipe. The poorly-paved street rose steeply and had no
+sidewalks. Toward Rue de la Goutte d’Or there were some gloomy shops
+with dirty windows. There were shoemakers, coopers, a run-down grocery,
+and a bankrupt cafe whose closed shutters were covered with posters. In
+the opposite direction, toward Paris, four-story buildings blocked the
+sky. Their ground floor shops were all occupied by laundries with one
+exception—a green-painted store front typical of a small-town
+hair-dresser. Its shop windows were full of variously colored flasks.
+It lighted up this drab corner with the gay brightness of its copper
+bowls which were always shining.
+
+The most pleasant part of the street was in between, where the
+buildings were fewer and lower, letting in more sunlight. The carriage
+sheds, the plant which manufactured soda water, and the wash-house
+opposite made a wide expanse of quietness. The muffled voices of the
+washerwomen and the rhythmic puffing of the steam engine seemed to
+deepen the almost religious silence. Open fields and narrow lanes
+vanishing between dark walls gave it the air of a country village.
+Coupeau, always amused by the infrequent pedestrians having to jump
+over the continuous streams of soapy water, said it reminded him of a
+country town where his uncle had taken him when he was five years old.
+Gervaise’s greatest joy was a tree growing in the courtyard to the left
+of their window, an acacia that stretched out a single branch and yet,
+with its meager foliage, lent charm to the entire street.
+
+It was on the last day of April that Gervaise was confined. The pains
+came on in the afternoon, towards four o’clock, as she was ironing a
+pair of curtains at Madame Fauconnier’s. She would not go home at once,
+but remained there wriggling about on a chair, and continuing her
+ironing every time the pain allowed her to do so; the curtains were
+wanted quickly and she obstinately made a point of finishing them.
+Besides, perhaps after all it was only a colic; it would never do to be
+frightened by a bit of a stomach-ache. But as she was talking of
+starting on some shirts, she became quite pale. She was obliged to
+leave the work-shop, and cross the street doubled in two, holding on to
+the walls. One of the workwomen offered to accompany her; she declined,
+but begged her to go instead for the midwife, close by, in the Rue de
+la Charbonniere. This was only a false alarm; there was no need to make
+a fuss. She would be like that no doubt all through the night. It was
+not going to prevent her getting Coupeau’s dinner ready as soon as she
+was indoors; then she might perhaps lie down on the bed a little, but
+without undressing. On the staircase she was seized with such a violent
+pain, that she was obliged to sit down on one of the stairs; and she
+pressed her two fists against her mouth to prevent herself from crying
+out, for she would have been ashamed to have been found there by any
+man, had one come up. The pain passed away; she was able to open her
+door, feeling relieved, and thinking that she had decidedly been
+mistaken. That evening she was going to make a stew with some neck
+chops. All went well while she peeled the potatoes. The chops were
+cooking in a saucepan when the pains returned. She mixed the gravy as
+she stamped about in front of the stove, almost blinded with her tears.
+If she was going to give birth, that was no reason why Coupeau should
+be kept without his dinner. At length the stew began to simmer on a
+fire covered with cinders. She went into the other room, and thought
+she would have time to lay the cloth at one end of the table. But she
+was obliged to put down the bottle of wine very quickly; she no longer
+had strength to reach the bed; she fell prostrate, and she had more
+pains on a mat on the floor. When the midwife arrived, a quarter of an
+hour later, she found mother and baby lying there on the floor.
+
+The zinc-worker was still employed at the hospital. Gervaise would not
+have him disturbed. When he came home at seven o’clock, he found her in
+bed, well covered up, looking very pale on the pillow, and the child
+crying, swathed in a shawl at its mother’s feet.
+
+“Ah, my poor wife!” said Coupeau, kissing Gervaise. “And I was joking
+only an hour ago, whilst you were crying with pain! I say, you don’t
+make much fuss about it—the time to sneeze and it’s all over.”
+
+She smiled faintly; then she murmured: “It’s a girl.”
+
+“Right!” the zinc-worker replied, joking so as to enliven her, “I
+ordered a girl! Well, now I’ve got what I wanted! You do everything I
+wish!” And, taking the child up in his arms, he continued: “Let’s have
+a look at you, miss! You’ve got a very black little mug. It’ll get
+whiter, never fear. You must be good, never run about the streets, and
+grow up sensible like your papa and mamma.”
+
+Gervaise looked at her daughter very seriously, with wide open eyes,
+slowly overshadowed with sadness, for she would rather have had a boy.
+Boys can talk care of themselves and don’t have to run such risks on
+the streets of Paris as girls do. The midwife took the infant from
+Coupeau. She forbade Gervaise to do any talking; it was bad enough
+there was so much noise around her.
+
+Then the zinc-worker said that he must tell the news to mother Coupeau
+and the Lorilleuxs, but he was dying with hunger, he must first of all
+have his dinner. It was a great worry to the invalid to see him have to
+wait on himself, run to the kitchen for the stew, eat it out of a soup
+plate, and not be able to find the bread. In spite of being told not to
+do so, she bewailed her condition, and fidgeted about in her bed. It
+was stupid of her not to have managed to set the cloth, the pains had
+laid her on her back like a blow from a bludgeon. Her poor old man
+would not think it kind of her to be nursing herself up there whilst he
+was dining so badly. At least were the potatoes cooked enough? She no
+longer remembered whether she had put salt in them.
+
+“Keep quiet!” cried the midwife.
+
+“Ah! if only you could stop her from wearing herself out!” said Coupeau
+with his mouth full. “If you were not here, I’d bet she’d get up to cut
+my bread. Keep on your back, you big goose! You mustn’t move about,
+otherwise it’ll be a fortnight before you’ll be able to stand on your
+legs. Your stew’s very good. Madame will eat some with me, won’t you,
+Madame?”
+
+The midwife declined; but she was willing to accept a glass of wine,
+because it had upset her, said she to find the poor woman with the baby
+on the mat. Coupeau at length went off to tell the news to his
+relations. Half an hour later he returned with all of them, mother
+Coupeau, the Lorilleuxs, and Madame Lerat, whom he had met at the
+latter’s.
+
+“I’ve brought you the whole gang!” cried Coupeau. “It can’t be helped!
+They wanted to see you. Don’t open your mouth, it’s forbidden. They’ll
+stop here and look at you without ceremony, you know. As for me, I’m
+going to make them some coffee, and of the right sort!”
+
+He disappeared into the kitchen. Mother Coupeau after kissing Gervaise,
+became amazed at the child’s size. The two other women also kissed the
+invalid on her cheeks. And all three, standing before the bed,
+commented with divers exclamations on the details of the confinement—a
+most remarkable confinement, just like having a tooth pulled, nothing
+more.
+
+Madame Lerat examined the baby all over, declared she was well formed,
+even added that she could grow up into an attractive woman. Noticing
+that the head had been squeezed into a point on top, she kneaded it
+gently despite the infant’s cries, trying to round it a bit. Madame
+Lorilleux grabbed the baby from her; that could be enough to give the
+poor little thing all sorts of vicious tendencies, meddling with it
+like that while her skull was still soft. She then tried to figure out
+who the baby resembled. This almost led to a quarrel. Lorilleux,
+peering over the women’s shoulders, insisted that the little girl
+didn’t look the least bit like Coupeau. Well, maybe a little around the
+nose, nothing more. She was her mother all over again, with big eyes
+like hers. Certainly there were no eyes like that in the Coupeau
+family.
+
+Coupeau, however, had failed to reappear. One could hear him in the
+kitchen struggling with the grate and the coffee-pot. Gervaise was
+worrying herself frightfully; it was not the proper thing for a man to
+make coffee; and she called and told him what to do, without listening
+to the midwife’s energetic “hush!”
+
+“Here we are!” said Coupeau, entering with the coffee-pot in his hand.
+“Didn’t I just have a bother with it! It all went wrong on purpose! Now
+we’ll drink out of glasses, won’t we? Because you know, the cups are
+still at the shop.”
+
+They seated themselves around the table, and the zinc-worker insisted
+on pouring out the coffee himself. It smelt very strong, it was none of
+that weak stuff. When the midwife had sipped hers up, she went off;
+everything was going on nicely, she was not required. If the young
+woman did not pass a good night they were to send for her on the
+morrow. She was scarcely down the staircase, when Madame Lorilleux
+called her a glutton and a good-for-nothing. She put four lumps of
+sugar in her coffee, and charged fifteen francs for leaving you with
+your baby all by yourself. But Coupeau took her part; he would
+willingly fork out the fifteen francs. After all those sort of women
+spent their youth in studying, they were right to charge a good price.
+
+It was then Lorilleux who got into a quarrel with Madame Lerat by
+maintaining that, in order to have a son, the head of the bed should be
+turned to the north. She shrugged her shoulders at such nonsense,
+offering another formula which consisted in hiding under the mattress,
+without letting your wife know, a handful of fresh nettles picked in
+bright sunlight.
+
+The table had been pushed over close to the bed. Until ten o’clock
+Gervaise lay there, smiling although she was only half awake. She was
+becoming more and more weary, her head turned sideways on the pillow.
+She no longer had the energy to venture a remark or a gesture. It
+seemed to her that she was dead, a very sweet death, from the depths of
+which she was happy to observe the others still in the land of the
+living. The thin cries of her baby daughter rose above the hum of heavy
+voices that were discussing a recent murder on Rue du Bon Puits, at the
+other end of La Chapelle.
+
+Then, as the visitors were thinking of leaving, they spoke of the
+christening. The Lorilleux had promised to be godfather and godmother;
+they looked very glum over the matter. However, if they had not been
+asked to stand they would have felt rather peculiar. Coupeau did not
+see any need for christening the little one; it certainly would not
+procure her an income of ten thousand francs, and besides she might
+catch a cold from it. The less one had to do with priests the better.
+But mother Coupeau called him a heathen. The Lorilleux, without going
+and eating consecrated bread in church, plumed themselves on their
+religious sentiments.
+
+“It shall be next Sunday, if you like,” said the chainmaker.
+
+And Gervaise having consented by a nod, everyone kissed her and told
+her to take good care of herself. They also wished the baby good-bye.
+Each one went and leant over the little trembling body with smiles and
+loving words as though she were able to understand. They called her
+Nana, the pet name for Anna, which was her godmother’s name.
+
+“Good night, Nana. Come be a good girl, Nana.”
+
+When they had at length gone off, Coupeau drew his chair close up to
+the bed and finished his pipe, holding Gervaise’s hand in his. He
+smoked slowly, deeply affected and uttering sentences between the
+puffs.
+
+“Well, old woman, they’ve made your head ache, haven’t they? You see I
+couldn’t prevent them coming. After all, it shows their friendship. But
+we’re better alone, aren’t we? I wanted to be alone like this with you.
+It has seemed such a long evening to me! Poor little thing, she’s had a
+lot to go through! Those shrimps, when they come out into the world,
+have no idea of the pain they cause. It must really almost be like
+being split in two. Where does it hurt the most, that I may kiss it and
+make it well?”
+
+He had carefully slid one of his big hands under her back, and now he
+drew her toward him, bending over to kiss her stomach through the
+covers, touched by a rough man’s compassion for the suffering of a
+woman in childbirth. He inquired if he was hurting her. Gervaise felt
+very happy, and answered him that it didn’t hurt any more at all. She
+was only worried about getting up as soon as possible, because there
+was no time to lie about now. He assured her that he’d be responsible
+for earning the money for the new little one. He would be a real bum if
+he abandoned her and the little rascal. The way he figured it, what
+really counted was bringing her up properly. Wasn’t that so?
+
+Coupeau did not sleep much that night. He covered up the fire in the
+stove. Every hour he had to get up to give the baby spoonfuls of
+lukewarm sugar and water. That did not prevent his going off to his
+work in the morning as usual. He even took advantage of his lunch-hour
+to make a declaration of the birth at the mayor’s. During this time
+Madame Boche, who had been informed of the event, had hastened to go
+and pass the day with Gervaise. But the latter, after ten hours of
+sleep, bewailed her position, saying that she already felt pains all
+over her through having been so long in bed. She would become quite ill
+if they did not let her get up. In the evening, when Coupeau returned
+home, she told him all her worries; no doubt she had confidence in
+Madame Boche, only it put her beside herself to see a stranger
+installed in her room, opening the drawers, and touching her things.
+
+On the morrow the concierge, on returning from some errand, found her
+up, dressed, sweeping and getting her husband’s dinner ready; and it
+was impossible to persuade her to go to bed again. They were trying to
+make a fool of her perhaps! It was all very well for ladies to pretend
+to be unable to move. When one was not rich one had no time for that
+sort of thing. Three days after her confinement she was ironing
+petticoats at Madame Fauconnier’s, banging her irons and all in a
+perspiration from the great heat of the stove.
+
+On the Saturday evening, Madame Lorilleux brought her presents for her
+godchild—a cup that cost thirty-five sous, and a christening dress,
+plaited and trimmed with some cheap lace, which she had got for six
+francs, because it was slightly soiled. On the morrow, Lorilleux, as
+godfather, gave the mother six pounds of sugar. They certainly did
+things properly! At the baptism supper which took place at the Coupeaus
+that evening, they did not come empty-handed. Lorilleux carried a
+bottle of fine wine under each arm and his wife brought a large custard
+pie from a famous pastry shop on Chaussee Clignancourt. But the
+Lorilleuxs made sure that the entire neighborhood knew they had spent
+twenty francs. As soon as Gervaise learned of their gossiping, furious,
+she stopped giving them credit for generosity.
+
+It was at the christening feast that the Coupeaus ended by becoming
+intimately acquainted with their neighbors on the opposite side of the
+landing. The other lodging in the little house was occupied by two
+persons, mother and son, the Goujets as they were called. Until then
+the two families had merely nodded to each other on the stairs and in
+the street, nothing more; the Coupeaus thought their neighbors seemed
+rather bearish. Then the mother, having carried up a pail of water for
+Gervaise on the morrow of her confinement, the latter had thought it
+the proper thing to invite them to the feast, more especially as she
+considered them very respectable people. And naturally, they there
+became well acquainted with each other.
+
+The Goujets came from the Departement du Nord. The mother mended lace;
+the son, a blacksmith, worked at an iron bolt factory. They had lived
+in their lodging for five years. Behind the quiet peacefulness of their
+life, a long standing sorrow was hidden. Goujet the father, one day
+when furiously drunk at Lille, had beaten a comrade to death with an
+iron bar and had afterwards strangled himself in prison with his
+handkerchief. The widow and child, who had come to Paris after their
+misfortune, always felt the tragedy hanging over their heads, and
+atoned for it by a strict honesty and an unvarying gentleness and
+courage. They had a certain amount of pride in their attitude and
+regarded themselves as better than other people.
+
+Madame Goujet, dressed in black as usual, her forehead framed in a
+nun’s hood, had a pale, calm, matronly face, as if the whiteness of the
+lace and the delicate work of her fingers had cast a glow of serenity
+over her. Goujet was twenty-three years old, huge, magnificently built,
+with deep blue eyes and rosy cheeks, and the strength of Hercules. His
+comrades at the shop called him “Golden Mouth” because of his handsome
+blonde beard.
+
+Gervaise at once felt a great friendship for these people. When she
+entered their home for the first time, she was amazed at the
+cleanliness of the lodging. There was no denying it, one might blow
+about the place without raising a grain of dust; and the tiled floor
+shone like a mirror. Madame Goujet made her enter her son’s room, just
+to see it. It was pretty and white like the room of a young girl; an
+iron bedstead with muslin curtains, a table, a washstand, and a narrow
+bookcase hanging against the wall. Then there were pictures all over
+the place, figures cut out, colored engravings nailed up with four
+tacks, and portraits of all kinds of persons taken from the illustrated
+papers.
+
+Madame Goujet said with a smile that her son was a big baby. He found
+that reading in the evening put him to sleep, so he amused himself
+looking at pictures. Gervaise spent an hour with her neighbor without
+noticing the passing of time. Madame Goujet had gone to sit by the
+window and work on her lace. Gervaise was fascinated by the hundreds of
+pins that held the lace, and she felt happy to be there, breathing in
+the good clean atmosphere of this home where such a delicate task
+enforced a sort of meditative silence.
+
+The Goujets were worth visiting. They worked long hours, and placed
+more than a quarter of their fortnight’s earnings in the savings-bank.
+In the neighborhood everyone nodded to them, everyone talked of their
+savings. Goujet never had a hole in his clothes, always went out in a
+clean short blue blouse, without a stain. He was very polite, and even
+a trifle timid, in spite of his broad shoulders. The washerwomen at the
+end of the street laughed to see him hold down his head when he passed
+them. He did not like their oaths, and thought it disgusting that women
+should be constantly uttering foul words. One day, however, he came
+home tipsy. Then Madame Goujet, for sole reproach, held his father’s
+portrait before him, a daub of a painting hidden away at the bottom of
+a drawer; and, ever since that lesson, Goujet never drank more than was
+good for him, without however, any hatred of wine, for wine is
+necessary to the workman. On Sundays he walked out with his mother, who
+took hold of his arm. He would generally conduct her to Vincennes; at
+other times they would go to the theatre. His mother remained his
+passion. He still spoke to her as though he were a little child.
+Square-headed, his skin toughened by the wielding of the heavy hammer,
+he somewhat resembled the larger animals: dull of intellect, though
+good-natured all the same.
+
+In the early days of their acquaintance, Gervaise embarrassed him
+immensely. Then in a few weeks he became accustomed to her. He watched
+for her that he might carry up her parcels, treated her as a sister,
+with an abrupt familiarity, and cut out pictures for her. One morning,
+however, having opened her door without knocking, he beheld her half
+undressed, washing her neck; and, for a week, he did not dare to look
+her in the face, so much so that he ended by making her blush herself.
+
+Young Cassis, with the casual wit of a born Parisian, called Golden
+Mouth a dolt. It was all right not to get drunk all the time or chase
+women, but still, a man must be a man, or else he might as well wear
+skirts. Coupeau teased him in front of Gervaise, accusing him of making
+up to all the women in the neighborhood. Goujet vigorously defended
+himself against the charge.
+
+But this didn’t prevent the two workingmen from becoming best of
+friends. They went off to work together in the mornings and sometimes
+had a glass of beer together on the way home.
+
+It eventually came about that Golden Mouth could render a service to
+Young Cassis, one of those favors that is remembered forever.
+
+It was the second of December. The zinc-worker decided, just for the
+fun of it, to go into the city and watch the rioting. He didn’t really
+care about the Republic, or Napoleon or anything like that, but he
+liked the smell of gunpowder and the sound of the rifles firing. He
+would have been arrested as a rioter if the blacksmith hadn’t turned up
+at the barricade at just that moment and helped him escape. Goujet was
+very serious as they walked back up the Rue du Faubourg Poissonniere.
+He was interested in politics and believed in the Republic. But he had
+never fired a gun because the common people were getting tired of
+fighting battles for the middle classes who always seemed to get the
+benefit of them.
+
+As they reached the top of the slope of the Rue du Faubourg
+Poissonniere, Goujet turned to look back at Paris and the mobs. After
+all, some day people would be sorry that they just stood by and did
+nothing. Coupeau laughed at this, saying you would be pretty stupid to
+risk your neck just to preserve the twenty-five francs a day for the
+lazybones in the Legislative Assembly. That evening the Coupeaus
+invited the Goujets to dinner. After desert Young Cassis and Golden
+Mouth kissed each other on the cheek. Their lives were joined till
+death.
+
+For three years the existence of the two families went on, on either
+side of the landing, without an event. Gervaise was able to take care
+of her daughter and still work most of the week. She was now a skilled
+worker on fine laundry and earned up to three francs a day. She decided
+to put Etienne, now nearly eight, into a small boarding-school on Rue
+de Chartres for five francs a week. Despite the expenses for the two
+children, they were able to save twenty or thirty francs each month.
+Once they had six hundred francs saved, Gervaise often lay awake
+thinking of her ambitious dream: she wanted to rent a small shop, hire
+workers, and go into the laundry business herself. If this effort
+worked, they would have a steady income from savings in twenty years.
+They could retire and live in the country.
+
+Yet she hesitated, saying she was looking for the right shop. She was
+giving herself time to think it over. Their savings were safe in the
+bank, and growing larger. So, in three years’ time she had only
+fulfilled one of her dreams—she had bought a clock. But even this
+clock, made of rosewood with twined columns and a pendulum of gilded
+brass, was being paid for in installments of twenty-two sous each
+Monday for a year. She got upset if Coupeau tried to wind it; she liked
+to be the only one to lift off the glass dome. It was under the glass
+dome, behind the clock, that she hid her bank book. Sometimes, when she
+was dreaming of her shop, she would stare fixedly at the clock, lost in
+thought.
+
+The Coupeaus went out nearly every Sunday with the Goujets. They were
+pleasant little excursions, sometimes to have some fried fish at
+Saint-Ouen, at others a rabbit at Vincennes, in the garden of some
+eating-house keeper without any grand display. The men drank sufficient
+to quench their thirst, and returned home as right as nine-pins, giving
+their arms to the ladies. In the evening before going to bed, the two
+families made up accounts and each paid half the expenses; and there
+was never the least quarrel about a sou more or less.
+
+The Lorilleuxs became jealous of the Goujets. It seemed strange to them
+to see Young Cassis and Clump-clump going places all the time with
+strangers instead of their own relations. But, that’s the way it was;
+some folks didn’t care a bit about their family. Now that they had
+saved a few sous, they thought they were really somebody. Madame
+Lorilleux was much annoyed to see her brother getting away from her
+influence and begin to continually run down Gervaise to everyone. On
+the other hand, Madame Lerat took the young wife’s side. Mother Coupeau
+tried to get along with everybody. She only wanted to be welcomed by
+all three of her children. Now that her eyesight was getting dimmer and
+dimmer she only had one regular house cleaning job but she was able to
+pick up some small jobs now and again.
+
+On the day on which Nana was three years old, Coupeau, on returning
+home in the evening, found Gervaise quite upset. She refused to talk
+about it; there was nothing at all the matter with her, she said. But,
+as she had the table all wrong, standing still with the plates in her
+hands, absorbed in deep reflection, her husband insisted upon knowing
+what was the matter.
+
+“Well, it is this,” she ended by saying, “the little draper’s shop in
+the Rue de la Goutte-d’Or, is to let. I saw it only an hour ago, when
+going to buy some cotton. It gave me quite a turn.”
+
+It was a very decent shop, and in that big house where they dreamed of
+living in former days. There was the shop, a back room, and two other
+rooms to the right and left; in short, just what they required. The
+rooms were rather small, but well placed. Only, she considered they
+wanted too much; the landlord talked of five hundred francs.
+
+“So you’ve been over the place, and asked the price?” said Coupeau.
+
+“Oh! you know, only out of curiosity!” replied she, affecting an air of
+indifference. “One looks about, and goes in wherever there’s a bill
+up—that doesn’t bind one to anything. But that shop is altogether too
+dear. Besides, it would perhaps be foolish of me to set up in
+business.”
+
+However, after dinner, she again referred to the draper’s shop. She
+drew a plan of the place on the margin of a newspaper. And, little by
+little, she talked it over, measuring the corners, and arranging the
+rooms, as though she were going to move all her furniture in there on
+the morrow. Then Coupeau advised her to take it, seeing how she wanted
+to do so; she would certainly never find anything decent under five
+hundred francs; besides they might perhaps get a reduction. He knew
+only one objection to it and that was living in the same house as the
+Lorilleux, whom she could not bear.
+
+Gervaise declared that she wasn’t mad at anybody. So much did she want
+her own shop that she even spoke up for the Lorilleuxs, saying that
+they weren’t mean at heart and that she would be able to get along just
+fine with them. When they went to bed, Coupeau fell asleep immediately,
+but she stayed awake, planning how she could arrange the new place even
+though she hadn’t yet made up her mind completely.
+
+On the morrow, when she was alone, she could not resist removing the
+glass cover from the clock, and taking a peep at the savings-bank book.
+To think that her shop was there, in those dirty pages, covered with
+ugly writing! Before going off to her work, she consulted Madame
+Goujet, who highly approved her project of setting up in business for
+herself; with a husband like hers, a good fellow who did not drink, she
+was certain of getting on, and of not having her earnings squandered.
+At the luncheon hour Gervaise even called on the Lorilleuxs to ask
+their advice; she did not wish to appear to be doing anything unknown
+to the family. Madame Lorilleux was struck all of a heap. What!
+Clump-clump was going in for a shop now! And her heart bursting with
+envy, she stammered, and tried to pretend to be pleased: no doubt the
+shop was a convenient one—Gervaise was right in taking it. However,
+when she had somewhat recovered, she and her husband talked of the
+dampness of the courtyard, of the poor light of the rooms on the ground
+floor. Oh! it was a good place for rheumatism. Yet, if she had made up
+her mind to take it, their observations, of course, would not make her
+alter her decision.
+
+That evening Gervaise frankly owned with a laugh that she would have
+fallen ill if she had been prevented from having the shop.
+Nevertheless, before saying “it’s done!” she wished to take Coupeau to
+see the place, and try and obtain a reduction in the rent.
+
+“Very well, then, to-morrow, if you like,” said her husband. “You can
+come and fetch me towards six o’clock at the house where I’m working,
+in the Rue de la Nation, and we’ll call in at the Rue de la Goutte-d’Or
+on our way home.”
+
+Coupeau was then finishing the roofing of a new three-storied house. It
+so happened that on that day he was to fix the last sheets of zinc. As
+the roof was almost flat, he had set up his bench on it, a wide shutter
+supported on two trestles. A beautiful May sun was setting, giving a
+golden hue to the chimney-pots. And, right up at the top, against the
+clear sky, the workman was quietly cutting up his zinc with a big pair
+of shears, leaning over the bench, and looking like a tailor in his
+shop cutting out a pair of trousers. Close to the wall of the next
+house, his boy, a youngster of seventeen, thin and fair, was keeping
+the fire of the chafing dish blazing by the aid of an enormous pair of
+bellows, each puff of which raised a cloud of sparks.
+
+“Hi! Zidore, put in the irons!” cried Coupeau.
+
+The boy stuck the soldering irons into the midst of the charcoal, which
+looked a pale rose color in the daylight. Then he resumed blowing.
+Coupeau held the last sheet of zinc. It had to be placed at the edge of
+the roof, close to the gutter-pipe; there was an abrupt slant there,
+and the gaping void of the street opened beneath. The zinc-worker, just
+as though in his own home, wearing his list-shoes, advanced, dragging
+his feet, and whistling the air, “Oh! the little lambs.” Arrived in
+front of the opening, he let himself down, and then, supporting himself
+with one knee against the masonry of a chimney-stack, remained half-way
+out over the pavement below. One of his legs dangled. When he leant
+back to call that young viper, Zidore, he held on to a corner of the
+masonry, on account of the street beneath him.
+
+“You confounded dawdler! Give me the irons! It’s no use looking up in
+the air, you skinny beggar! The larks won’t tumble into your mouth
+already cooked!”
+
+But Zidore did not hurry himself. He was interested in the neighboring
+roofs, and in a cloud of smoke which rose from the other side of Paris,
+close to Grenelle; it was very likely a fire. However, he came and laid
+down on his stomach, his head over the opening, and he passed the irons
+to Coupeau. Then the latter commenced to solder the sheet. He squatted,
+he stretched, always managing to balance himself, sometimes seated on
+one side, at other times standing on the tip of one foot, often only
+holding on by a finger. He had a confounded assurance, the devil’s own
+cheek, familiar with danger, and braving it. It knew him. It was the
+street that was afraid, not he. As he kept his pipe in his mouth, he
+turned round every now and then to spit onto the pavement.
+
+“Look, there’s Madame Boche,” he suddenly exclaimed and called down to
+her. “Hi! Madame Boche.”
+
+He had just caught sight of the concierge crossing the road. She raised
+her head and recognised him, and a conversation ensued between them.
+She hid her hands under her apron, her nose elevated in the air. He,
+standing up now, his left arm passed round a chimney-pot, leant over.
+
+“Have you seen my wife?” asked he.
+
+“No, I haven’t,” replied the concierge. “Is she around here?”
+
+“She’s coming to fetch me. And are they all well at home?”
+
+“Why, yes, thanks; I’m the most ill, as you see. I’m going to the
+Chaussee Clignancourt to buy a small leg of mutton. The butcher near
+the Moulin-Rouge only charges sixteen sous.”
+
+They raised their voices, because a vehicle was passing. In the wide,
+deserted Rue de la Nation, their words, shouted out with all their
+might, had only caused a little old woman to come to her window; and
+this little old woman remained there leaning out, giving herself the
+treat of a grand emotion by watching that man on the roof over the way,
+as though she expected to see him fall, from one minute to another.
+
+“Well! Good evening,” cried Madame Boche. “I won’t disturb you.”
+
+Coupeau turned round, and took back the iron that Zidore was holding
+for him. But just as the concierge was moving off, she caught sight of
+Gervaise on the other side of the way, holding Nana by the hand. She
+was already raising her head to tell the zinc-worker, when the young
+woman closed her mouth by an energetic gesture, and, in a low voice, so
+as not to be heard up there, she told her of her fear: she was afraid,
+by showing herself suddenly, of giving her husband a shock which might
+make him lose his balance. During the four years, she had only been
+once to fetch him at his work. That day was the second time. She could
+not witness it, her blood turned cold when she beheld her old man
+between heaven and earth, in places where even the sparrows would not
+venture.
+
+“No doubt, it’s not pleasant,” murmured Madame Boche. “My husband’s a
+tailor, so I have none of these terrors.”
+
+“If you only knew, in the early days,” said Gervaise again, “I had
+frights from morning till night. I was always seeing him on a
+stretcher, with his head smashed. Now, I don’t think of it so much. One
+gets used to everything. Bread must be earned. All the same, it’s a
+precious dear loaf, for one risks one’s bones more than is fair.”
+
+And she left off speaking, hiding Nana in her skirt, fearing a cry from
+the little one. Very pale, she looked up in spite of herself. At that
+moment Coupeau was soldering the extreme edge of the sheet close to the
+gutter; he slid down as far as possible, but without being able to
+reach the edge. Then, he risked himself with those slow movements
+peculiar to workmen. For an instant he was immediately over the
+pavement, no long holding on, all absorbed in his work; and, from
+below, one could see the little white flame of the solder frizzling up
+beneath the carefully wielded iron. Gervaise, speechless, her throat
+contracted with anguish, had clasped her hands together, and held them
+up in mechanical gesture of prayer. But she breathed freely as Coupeau
+got up and returned back along the roof, without hurrying himself, and
+taking the time to spit once more into the street.
+
+“Ah! ah! so you’ve been playing the spy on me!” cried he, gaily, on
+beholding her. “She’s been making a stupid of herself, eh, Madame
+Boche? She wouldn’t call to me. Wait a bit, I shall have finished in
+ten minutes.”
+
+All that remained to do was to fix the top of the chimney—a mere
+nothing. The laundress and the concierge waited on the pavement,
+discussing the neighborhood, and giving an eye to Nana, to prevent her
+from dabbling in the gutter, where she wanted to look for little
+fishes; and the two women kept glancing up at the roof, smiling and
+nodding their heads, as though to imply that they were not losing
+patience. The old woman opposite had not left her window, had continued
+watching the man, and waiting.
+
+“Whatever can she have to look at, that old she-goat?” said Madame
+Boche. “What a mug she has!”
+
+One could hear the loud voice of the zinc-worker up above singing, “Ah!
+it’s nice to gather strawberries!” Bending over his bench, he was now
+artistically cutting out his zinc. With his compasses he traced a line,
+and he detached a large fan-shaped piece with the aid of a pair of
+curved shears; then he lightly bent this fan with his hammer into the
+form of a pointed mushroom. Zidore was again blowing the charcoal in
+the chafing-dish. The sun was setting behind the house in a brilliant
+rosy light, which was gradually becoming paler, and turning to a
+delicate lilac. And, at this quiet hour of the day, right up against
+the sky, the silhouettes of the two workmen, looking inordinately
+large, with the dark line of the bench, and the strange profile of the
+bellows, stood out from the limpid back-ground of the atmosphere.
+
+When the chimney-top was got into shape, Coupeau called out: “Zidore!
+The irons!”
+
+But Zidore had disappeared. The zinc-worker swore, and looked about for
+him, even calling him through the open skylight of the loft. At length
+he discovered him on a neighboring roof, two houses off. The young
+rogue was taking a walk, exploring the environs, his fair scanty locks
+blowing in the breeze, his eyes blinking as they beheld the immensity
+of Paris.
+
+“I say, lazy bones! Do you think you’re having a day in the country?”
+asked Coupeau, in a rage. “You’re like Monsieur Beranger, composing
+verses, perhaps! Will you give me those irons! Did any one ever see
+such a thing! Strolling about on the house-tops! Why not bring your
+sweetheart at once, and tell her of your love? Will you give me those
+irons? You confounded little shirker!”
+
+He finished his soldering, and called to Gervaise: “There, it’s done.
+I’m coming down.”
+
+The chimney-pot to which he had to fix the flue was in the middle of
+the roof. Gervaise, who was no longer uneasy, continued to smile as she
+followed his movements. Nana, amused all on a sudden by the view of her
+father, clapped her little hands. She had seated herself on the
+pavement to see the better up there.
+
+“Papa! Papa!” called she with all her might. “Papa! Just look!”
+
+The zinc-worker wished to lean forward, but his foot slipped. Then
+suddenly, stupidly, like a cat with its legs entangled, he rolled and
+descended the slight slope of the roof without being able to grab hold
+of anything.
+
+“_Mon Dieu_,” he cried in a choked voice.
+
+And he fell. His body described a gentle curve, turned twice over on
+itself, and came smashing into the middle of the street with the dull
+thud of a bundle of clothes thrown from on high.
+
+Gervaise, stupefied, her throat rent by one great cry, stood holding up
+her arms. Some passers-by hastened to the spot; a crowd soon formed.
+Madame Boche, utterly upset, her knees bending under her, took Nana in
+her arms, to hide her head and prevent her seeing. Meanwhile, the
+little old woman opposite quietly closed her window, as though
+satisfied.
+
+Four men ended by carrying Coupeau into a chemist’s, at the corner of
+the Rue des Poissonniers; and he remained there on a blanket, in the
+middle of the shop, whilst they sent to the Lariboisiere Hospital for a
+stretcher. He was still breathing.
+
+Gervaise, sobbing, was kneeling on the floor beside him, her face
+smudged with tears, stunned and unseeing. Her hands would reach to feel
+her husband’s limbs with the utmost gentleness. Then she would draw
+back as she had been warned not to touch him. But a few seconds later
+she would touch him to assure herself that he was still warm, feeling
+somehow that she was helping him.
+
+When the stretcher at length arrived, and they talked of starting for
+the hospital, she got up, saying violently:
+
+“No, no, not to the hospital! We live in the Rue Neuve de la
+Goutte-d’Or.”
+
+It was useless for them to explain to her that the illness would cost
+her a great deal of money, if she took her husband home. She
+obstinately repeated:
+
+“Rue Neuve de la Goutte-d’Or; I will show you the house. What can it
+matter to you? I’ve got money. He’s my husband, isn’t he? He’s mine,
+and I want him at home.”
+
+And they had to take Coupeau to his own home. When the stretcher was
+carried through the crowd which was crushing up against the chemist’s
+shop, the women of the neighborhood were excitedly talking of Gervaise.
+She limped, the dolt, but all the same she had some pluck. She would be
+sure to save her old man; whilst at the hospital the doctors let the
+patients die who were very bad, so as not to have the bother of trying
+to cure them. Madame Boche, after taking Nana home with her, returned,
+and gave her account of the accident, with interminable details, and
+still feeling agitated with the emotion she had passed through.
+
+“I was going to buy a leg of mutton; I was there, I saw him fall,”
+repeated she. “It was all through the little one; he turned to look at
+her, and bang! Ah! good heavens! I never want to see such a sight
+again. However, I must be off to get my leg of mutton.”
+
+For a week Coupeau was very bad. The family, the neighbors, everyone,
+expected to see him turn for the worse at any moment. The doctor—a very
+expensive doctor, who charged five francs for each visit—apprehended
+internal injuries, and these words filled everyone with fear. It was
+said in the neighborhood that the zinc-worker’s heart had been injured
+by the shock. Gervaise alone, looking pale through her nights of
+watching, serious and resolute, shrugged her shoulders. Her old man’s
+right leg was broken, everyone knew that; it would be set for him, and
+that was all. As for the rest, the injured heart, that was nothing. She
+knew how to restore a heart with ceaseless care. She was certain of
+getting him well and displayed magnificent faith. She stayed close by
+him and caressed him gently during the long bouts of fever without a
+moment of doubt. She was on her feet continuously for a whole week,
+completely absorbed by her determination to save him. She forgot the
+street outside, the entire city, and even her own children. On the
+ninth day, the doctor finally said that Coupeau would live. Gervaise
+collapsed into a chair, her body limp from fatigue. That night she
+consented to sleep for two hours with her head against the foot of the
+bed.
+
+Coupeau’s accident had created quite a commotion in the family. Mother
+Coupeau passed the nights with Gervaise; but as early as nine o’clock
+she fell asleep on a chair. Every evening, on returning from work,
+Madame Lerat went a long round out of her way to inquire how her
+brother was getting on. At first the Lorilleuxs had called two or three
+times a day, offering to sit up and watch, and even bringing an
+easy-chair for Gervaise. Then it was not long before there were
+disputes as to the proper way to nurse invalids. Madame Lorilleux said
+that she had saved enough people’s lives to know how to go about it.
+She accused the young wife of pushing her aside, of driving her away
+from her own brother’s bed. Certainly that Clump-clump ought to be
+concerned about Coupeau’s getting well, for if she hadn’t gone to Rue
+de la Nation to disturb him at his job, he would never had fallen.
+Only, the way she was taking care of him, she would certainly finish
+him.
+
+When Gervaise saw that Coupeau was out of danger, she ceased guarding
+his bedside with so much jealous fierceness. Now, they could no longer
+kill him, and she let people approach without mistrust. The family
+invaded the room. The convalescence would be a very long one; the
+doctor had talked of four months. Then, during the long hours the
+zinc-worker slept, the Lorilleux talked of Gervaise as of a fool. She
+hadn’t done any good by having her husband at home. At the hospital
+they would have cured him twice as quickly. Lorilleux would have liked
+to have been ill, to have caught no matter what, just to show her that
+he did not hesitate for a moment to go to Lariboisiere. Madame
+Lorilleux knew a lady who had just come from there. Well! She had had
+chicken to eat morning and night.
+
+Again and again the two of them went over their estimate of how much
+four months of convalescence would cost; workdays lost, the doctor and
+the medicines, and afterward good wine and fresh meat. If the Coupeaus
+only used up their small savings, they would be very lucky indeed. They
+would probably have to go into debt. Well, that was to be expected and
+it was their business. They had no right to expect any help from the
+family, which couldn’t afford the luxury of keeping an invalid at home.
+It was just Clump-clump’s bad luck, wasn’t it? Why couldn’t she have
+done as others did and let her man be taken to hospital? This just
+showed how stuck up she was.
+
+One evening Madame Lorilleux had the spitefulness to ask Gervaise
+suddenly:
+
+“Well! And your shop, when are you going to take it?”
+
+“Yes,” chuckled Lorilleux, “the landlord’s still waiting for you.”
+
+Gervaise was astonished. She had completely forgotten the shop; but she
+saw the wicked joy of those people, at the thought that she would no
+longer be able to take it, and she was bursting with anger. From that
+evening, in fact, they watched for every opportunity to twit her about
+her hopeless dream. When any one spoke of some impossible wish, they
+would say that it might be realized on the day that Gervaise started in
+business, in a beautiful shop opening onto the street. And behind her
+back they would laugh fit to split their sides. She did not like to
+think such an unkind thing, but, really, the Lorilleuxs now seemed to
+be very pleased at Coupeau’s accident, as it prevented her setting up
+as a laundress in the Rue de la Goutte-d’Or.
+
+Then she also wished to laugh, and show them how willingly she parted
+with the money for the sake of curing her husband. Each time she took
+the savings-bank book from beneath the glass clock-tower in their
+presence, she would say gaily:
+
+“I’m going out; I’m going to rent my shop.”
+
+She had not been willing to withdraw the money all at once. She took it
+out a hundred francs at a time, so as not to keep such a pile of gold
+and silver in her drawer; then, too, she vaguely hoped for some
+miracle, some sudden recovery, which would enable them not to part with
+the entire sum. At each journey to the savings-bank, on her return
+home, she added up on a piece of paper the money they had still left
+there. It was merely for the sake of order. Their bank account might be
+getting smaller all the time, yet she went on with her quiet smile and
+common-sense attitude, keeping the account straight. It was a
+consolation to be able to use this money for such a good purpose, to
+have had it when faced with their misfortune.
+
+While Coupeau was bed-ridden the Goujets were very kind to Gervaise.
+Madame Goujet was always ready to assist. She never went to shop
+without stopping to ask Gervaise if there was anything she needed,
+sugar or butter or salt. She always brought over hot bouillon on the
+evenings she cooked _pot au feu_. Sometimes, when Gervaise seemed to
+have too much to do, Madame Goujet helped her do the dishes, or cleaned
+the kitchen herself. Goujet took her water pails every morning and
+filled them at the tap on Rue des Poissonniers, saving her two sous a
+day. After dinner, if no family came to visit, the Goujets would come
+over to visit with the Coupeaus.
+
+Until ten o’clock, the blacksmith would smoke his pipe and watch
+Gervaise busy with her invalid. He would not speak ten words the entire
+evening. He was moved to pity by the sight of her pouring Coupeau’s tea
+and medicine into a cup, or stirring the sugar in it very carefully so
+as to make no sound with the spoon. It stirred him deeply when she
+would lean over Coupeau and speak in her soft voice. Never before had
+he known such a fine woman. Her limp increased the credit due her for
+wearing herself out doing things for her husband all day long. She
+never sat down for ten minutes, not even to eat. She was always running
+to the chemist’s. And then she would still keep the house clean, not
+even a speck of dust. She never complained, no matter how exhausted she
+became. Goujet developed a very deep affection for Gervaise in this
+atmosphere of unselfish devotion.
+
+One day he said to the invalid, “Well, old man, now you’re patched up
+again! I wasn’t worried about you. Your wife works miracles.”
+
+Goujet was supposed to be getting married. His mother had found a
+suitable girl, a lace-mender like herself, whom she was urging him to
+marry. He had agreed so as not to hurt her feelings and the wedding had
+been set for early September. Money had long since been saved to set
+them up in housekeeping. However, when Gervaise referred to his coming
+marriage, he shook his head, saying, “Not every woman is like you,
+Madame Coupeau. If all women were like you, I’d marry ten of them.”
+
+At the end of two months, Coupeau was able to get up. He did not go
+far, only from the bed to the window, and even then Gervaise had to
+support him. There he would sit down in the easy-chair the Lorilleuxs
+had brought, with his right leg stretched out on a stool. This joker,
+who used to laugh at the people who slipped down on frosty days, felt
+greatly put out by his accident. He had no philosophy. He had spent
+those two months in bed, in cursing, and in worrying the people about
+him. It was not an existence, really, to pass one’s life on one’s back,
+with a pin all tied up and as stiff as a sausage. Ah, he certainly knew
+the ceiling by heart; there was a crack, at the corner of the alcove,
+that he could have drawn with his eyes shut. Then, when he was made
+comfortable in the easy-chair, it was another grievance. Would he be
+fixed there for long, just like a mummy?
+
+Nobody ever passed along the street, so it was no fun to watch.
+Besides, it stank of bleach water all day. No, he was just growing old;
+he’d have given ten years of his life just to go see how the
+fortifications were getting along. He kept going on about his fate. It
+wasn’t right, what had happened to him. A good worker like him, not a
+loafer or a drunkard, he could have understood in that case.
+
+“Papa Coupeau,” said he, “broke his neck one day that he’d been
+boozing. I can’t say that it was deserved, but anyhow it was
+explainable. I had had nothing since my lunch, was perfectly quiet, and
+without a drop of liquor in my body; and yet I came to grief just
+because I wanted to turn round to smile at Nana! Don’t you think that’s
+too much? If there is a providence, it certainly arranges things in a
+very peculiar manner. I, for one, shall never believe in it.”
+
+And when at last he was able to use his legs, he retained a secret
+grudge against work. It was a handicraft full of misfortunes to pass
+one’s days, like the cats, on the roofs of the houses. The employers
+were no fools! They sent you to your death—being far too cowardly to
+venture themselves on a ladder—and stopped at home in safety at their
+fire-sides without caring a hang for the poorer classes; and he got to
+the point of saying that everyone ought to fix the zinc himself on his
+own house. _Mon Dieu_! It was the only fair way to do it! If you don’t
+want the rain to come in, do the work yourself. He regretted he hadn’t
+learned another trade, something more pleasant, something less
+dangerous, maybe cabinetmaking. It was really his father’s fault. Lots
+of fathers have the foolish habit of shoving their sons into their own
+line of work.
+
+For another two months Coupeau hobbled about on crutches. He had first
+of all managed to get as far as the street, and smoke his pipe in front
+of the door. Then he had managed to reach the exterior Boulevard,
+dragging himself along in the sunshine, and remaining for hours on one
+of the seats. Gaiety returned to him; his infernal tongue got sharper
+in these long hours of idleness. And with the pleasure of living, he
+gained there a delight in doing nothing, an indolent feeling took
+possession of his limbs, and his muscles gradually glided into a very
+sweet slumber. It was the slow victory of laziness, which took
+advantage of his convalescence to obtain possession of his body and
+unnerve him with its tickling. He regained his health, as thorough a
+banterer as before, thinking life beautiful, and not seeing why it
+should not last for ever.
+
+As soon as he could get about without the crutches, he made longer
+walks, often visiting construction jobs to see old comrades. He would
+stand with his arms folded, sneering and shaking his head, ridiculing
+the workers slaving at the job, stretching out his leg to show them
+what you got for wearing yourself out. Being able to stand about and
+mock others while they were working satisfied his spite against hard
+work. No doubt he’d have to go back to it, but he’d put it off as long
+as possible. He had a reason now to be lazy. Besides, it seemed good to
+him to loaf around like a bum!
+
+On the afternoons when Coupeau felt dull, he would call on the
+Lorilleuxs. The latter would pity him immensely, and attract him with
+all sorts of amiable attentions. During the first years following his
+marriage, he had avoided them, thanks to Gervaise’s influence. Now they
+regained their sway over him by twitting him about being afraid of his
+wife. He was no man, that was evident! The Lorilleuxs, however, showed
+great discretion, and were loud in their praise of the laundress’s good
+qualities. Coupeau, without as yet coming to wrangling, swore to the
+latter that his sister adored her, and requested that she would behave
+more amiably to her. The first quarrel which the couple had occurred
+one evening on account of Etienne. The zinc-worker had passed the
+afternoon with the Lorilleuxs. On arriving home, as the dinner was not
+quite ready, and the children were whining for their soup, he suddenly
+turned upon Etienne, and boxed his ears soundly. And during an hour he
+did not cease to grumble; the brat was not his; he did not know why he
+allowed him to be in the place; he would end by turning him out into
+the street. Up till then he had tolerated the youngster without all
+that fuss. On the morrow he talked of his dignity. Three days after, he
+kept kicking the little fellow, morning and evening, so much so that
+the child, whenever he heard him coming, bolted into the Goujets’ where
+the old lace-mender kept a corner of the table clear for him to do his
+lessons.
+
+Gervaise had for some time past, returned to work. She no longer had
+the trouble of looking under the glass cover of the clock; all the
+savings were gone; and she had to work hard, work for four, for there
+were four to feed now. She alone maintained them. Whenever she heard
+people pitying her, she at once found excuses for Coupeau. Recollect!
+He had suffered so much; it was not surprising if his disposition had
+soured! But it would pass off when his health returned. And if any one
+hinted that Coupeau seemed all right again, that he could very well
+return to work, she protested: No, no; not yet! She did not want to see
+him take to his bed again. They would allow her to know best what the
+doctor said, perhaps! It was she who prevented him returning to work,
+telling him every morning to take his time and not to force himself.
+She even slipped twenty sou pieces into his waistcoat pocket. Coupeau
+accepted this as something perfectly natural. He was always complaining
+of aches and pains so that she would coddle him. At the end of six
+months he was still convalescing.
+
+Now, whenever he went to watch others working, he was always ready to
+join his comrades in downing a shot. It wasn’t so bad, after all. They
+had their fun, and they never stayed more than five minutes. That
+couldn’t hurt anybody. Only a hypocrite would say he went in because he
+wanted a drink. No wonder they had laughed at him in the past. A glass
+of wine never hurt anybody. He only drank wine though, never brandy.
+Wine never made you sick, didn’t get you drunk, and helped you to live
+longer. Soon though, several times, after a day of idleness in going
+from one building job to another, he came home half drunk. On those
+occasions Gervaise pretended to have a terrible headache and kept their
+door closed so that the Goujets wouldn’t hear Coupeau’s drunken
+babblings.
+
+Little by little, the young woman lost her cheerfulness. Morning and
+evening she went to the Rue de la Goutte-d’Or to look at the shop,
+which was still to be let; and she would hide herself as though she
+were committing some childish prank unworthy of a grown-up person. This
+shop was beginning to turn her brain. At night-time, when the light was
+out she experienced the charm of some forbidden pleasure by thinking of
+it with her eyes open. She again made her calculations; two hundred and
+fifty francs for the rent, one hundred and fifty francs for utensils
+and moving, one hundred francs in hand to keep them going for a
+fortnight—in all five hundred francs at the very lowest figure. If she
+was not continually thinking of it aloud, it was for fear she should be
+suspected of regretting the savings swallowed up by Coupeau’s illness.
+She often became quite pale, having almost allowed her desire to escape
+her and catching back her words, quite confused as though she had been
+thinking of something wicked. Now they would have to work for four or
+five years before they would succeed in saving such a sum. Her regret
+was at not being able to start in business at once; she would have
+earned all the home required, without counting on Coupeau, letting him
+take months to get into the way of work again; she would no longer have
+been uneasy, but certain of the future and free from the secret fears
+which sometimes seized her when he returned home very gay and singing,
+and relating some joke of that animal My-Boots, whom he had treated to
+a drink.
+
+One evening, Gervaise being at home alone, Goujet entered, and did not
+hurry off again, according to his habit. He seated himself, and smoked
+as he watched her. He probably had something very serious to say; he
+thought it over, let it ripen without being able to put it into
+suitable words. At length, after a long silence, he appeared to make up
+his mind, and took his pipe out of his mouth to say all in a breath:
+
+“Madame Gervaise, will you allow me to lend you some money?”
+
+She was leaning over an open drawer, looking for some dish-cloths. She
+got up, her face very red. He must have seen her then, in the morning,
+standing in ecstacy before the shop for close upon ten minutes. He was
+smiling in an embarrassed way, as though he had made some insulting
+proposal. But she hastily refused. Never would she accept money from
+any one without knowing when she would be able to return it. Then also
+it was a question of too large an amount. And as he insisted, in a
+frightened manner, she ended by exclaiming:
+
+“But your marriage? I certainly can’t take the money you’ve been saving
+for your marriage!”
+
+“Oh, don’t let that bother you,” he replied, turning red in his turn.
+“I’m not going to be married now. That was just an idea, you know.
+Really, I would much sooner lend you the money.”
+
+Then they both held down their heads. There was something very pleasant
+between them to which they did not give expression. And Gervaise
+accepted. Goujet had told his mother. They crossed the landing, and
+went to see her at once. The lace-mender was very grave, and looked
+rather sad as she bent her face over her tambour-frame. She would not
+thwart her son, but she no longer approved Gervaise’s project; and she
+plainly told her why. Coupeau was going to the bad; Coupeau would
+swallow up her shop. She especially could not forgive the zinc-worker
+for having refused to learn to read during his convalescence. The
+blacksmith had offered to teach him, but the other had sent him to the
+right about, saying that learning made people get thin. This had almost
+caused a quarrel between the two workmen; each went his own way. Madame
+Goujet, however, seeing her big boy’s beseeching glances, behaved very
+kindly to Gervaise. It was settled that they would lend their neighbors
+five hundred francs; the latter were to repay the amount by
+installments of twenty francs a month; it would last as long as it
+lasted.
+
+“I say, the blacksmith’s sweet on you,” exclaimed Coupeau, laughing,
+when he heard what had taken place. “Oh, I’m quite easy; he’s too big a
+muff. We’ll pay him back his money. But, really, if he had to deal with
+some people, he’d find himself pretty well duped.”
+
+On the morrow the Coupeaus took the shop. All day long, Gervaise was
+running from Rue Neuve de la Goutte-d’Or. When the neighbors beheld her
+pass thus, nimble and delighted to the extent that she no longer
+limped, they said she must have undergone some operation.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER V.
+
+
+It so happened that the Boches had left the Rue des Poissonniers at the
+April quarter, and were now taking charge of the great house in the Rue
+de la Goutte-d’Or. It was a curious coincidence, all the same! One
+thing that worried Gervaise who had lived so quietly in her lodgings in
+the Rue Neuve, was the thought of again being under the subjection of
+some unpleasant person, with whom she would be continually quarrelling,
+either on account of water spilt in the passage or of a door shut too
+noisily at night-time. Concierges are such a disagreeable class! But it
+would be a pleasure to be with the Boches. They knew one another—they
+would always get on well together. It would be just like members of the
+same family.
+
+On the day the Coupeaus went to sign their lease, Gervaise felt her
+heart swollen with pride as she passed through the high doorway. She
+was then at length going to live in that house as vast as a little
+town, with its interminable staircases, and passages as long and
+winding as streets. She was excited by everything: the gray walls with
+varicolored rugs hanging from windows to dry in the sun, the dingy
+courtyard with as many holes in its pavement as a public square, the
+hum of activity coming through the walls. She felt joy that she was at
+last about to realize her ambition. She also felt fear that she would
+fail and be crushed in the endless struggle against the poverty and
+starvation she could feel breathing down her neck. It seemed to her
+that she was doing something very bold, throwing herself into the midst
+of some machinery in motion, as she listened to the blacksmith’s
+hammers and the cabinetmakers’ planes, hammering and hissing in the
+depths of the work-shops on the ground floor. On that day the water
+flowing from the dyer’s under the entrance porch was a very pale apple
+green. She smilingly stepped over it; to her the color was a pleasant
+omen.
+
+The meeting with the landlord was to take place in the Boches’ room.
+Monsieur Marescot, a wealthy cutler of the Rue de la Paix, had at one
+time turned a grindstone through the streets. He was now stated to be
+worth several millions. He was a man of fifty-five, large and
+big-boned. Even though he now wore a decoration in his button-hole, his
+huge hands were still those of a former workingman. It was his joy to
+carry off the scissors and knives of his tenants, to sharpen them
+himself, for the fun of it. He often stayed for hours with his
+concierges, closed up in the darkness of their lodges, going over the
+accounts. That’s where he did all his business. He was now seated by
+Madame Boche’s kitchen table, listening to her story of how the
+dressmaker on the third floor, staircase A, had used a filthy word in
+refusing to pay her rent. He had had to work precious hard once upon a
+time. But work was the high road to everything. And, after counting the
+two hundred and fifty francs for the first two quarters in advance, and
+dropping them into his capacious pocket, he related the story of his
+life, and showed his decoration.
+
+Gervaise, however, felt rather ill at ease on account of the Boches’
+behavior. They pretended not to know her. They were most assiduous in
+their attentions to the landlord, bowing down before him, watching for
+his least words, and nodding their approval of them. Madame Boche
+suddenly ran out and dispersed a group of children who were paddling
+about in front of the cistern, the tap of which they had turned full
+on, causing the water to flow over the pavement; and when she returned,
+upright and severe in her skirts, crossing the courtyard and glancing
+slowly up at all the windows, as though to assure herself of the good
+behavior of the household, she pursed her lips in a way to show with
+what authority she was invested, now that she reigned over three
+hundred tenants. Boche again spoke of the dressmaker on the second
+floor; he advised that she should be turned out; he reckoned up the
+number of quarters she owed with the importance of a steward whose
+management might be compromised. Monsieur Marescot approved the
+suggestion of turning her out, but he wished to wait till the half
+quarter. It was hard to turn people out into the street, more
+especially as it did not put a sou into the landlord’s pocket. And
+Gervaise asked herself with a shudder if she too would be turned out
+into the street the day that some misfortune rendered her unable to
+pay.
+
+The concierge’s lodge was as dismal as a cellar, black from smoke and
+crowded with dark furniture. All the sunlight fell upon the tailor’s
+workbench by the window. An old frock coat that was being reworked lay
+on it. The Boches’ only child, a four-year-old redhead named Pauline,
+was sitting on the floor, staring quietly at the veal simmering on the
+stove, delighted with the sharp odor of cooking that came from the
+frying pan.
+
+Monsieur Marescot again held out his hand to the zinc-worker, when the
+latter spoke of the repairs, recalling to his mind a promise he had
+made to talk the matter over later on. But the landlord grew angry, he
+had never promised anything; besides, it was not usual to do any
+repairs to a shop. However, he consented to go over the place, followed
+by the Coupeaus and Boche. The little linen-draper had carried off all
+his shelves and counters; the empty shop displayed its blackened
+ceiling and its cracked wall, on which hung strips of an old yellow
+paper. In the sonorous emptiness of the place, there ensued a heated
+discussion. Monsieur Marescot exclaimed that it was the business of
+shopkeepers to embellish their shops, for a shopkeeper might wish to
+have gold put about everywhere, and he, the landlord, could not put out
+gold. Then he related that he had spent more than twenty thousand
+francs in fitting up his premises in the Rue de la Paix. Gervaise, with
+her woman’s obstinacy, kept repeating an argument which she considered
+unanswerable. He would repaper a lodging, would he not? Then, why did
+he not treat the shop the same as a lodging? She did not ask him for
+anything else—only to whitewash the ceiling, and put some fresh paper
+on the walls.
+
+Boche, all this while, remained dignified and impenetrable; he turned
+about and looked up in the air, without expressing an opinion. Coupeau
+winked at him in vain; he affected not to wish to take advantage of his
+great influence over the landlord. He ended, however, by making a
+slight grimace—a little smile accompanied by a nod of the head. Just
+then Monsieur Marescot, exasperated, and seemingly very unhappy, and
+clutching his fingers like a miser being despoiled of his gold, was
+giving way to Gervaise, promising to do the ceiling and repaper the
+shop on condition that she paid for half of the paper. And he hurried
+away declining to discuss anything further.
+
+Now that Boche was alone with the Coupeaus, the concierge became quite
+talkative and slapped them on the shoulders. Well, well, see what they
+had gotten. Without his help, they would never have gotten the
+concessions. Didn’t they notice how the landlord had looked to him out
+of the corner of his eye for advice and how he’d made up his mind
+suddenly when he saw Boche smile? He confessed to them confidentially
+that he was the real boss of the building. It was he who decided who
+got eviction notices and who could become tenants. He collected all the
+rents and kept them for a couple of weeks in his bureau drawer.
+
+That evening the Coupeaus, to express their gratitude to the Boches,
+sent them two bottles of wine as a present.
+
+The following Monday the workmen started doing up the shop. The
+purchasing of the paper turned out especially to be a very big affair.
+Gervaise wanted a grey paper with blue flowers, so as to enliven and
+brighten the walls. Boche offered to take her to the dealers, so that
+she might make her own selection. But the landlord had given him formal
+instructions not to go beyond the price of fifteen sous the piece. They
+were there an hour. The laundress kept looking in despair at a very
+pretty chintz pattern costing eighteen sous the piece, and thought all
+the other papers hideous. At length the concierge gave in; he would
+arrange the matter, and, if necessary, would make out there was a piece
+more used than was really the case. So, on her way home, Gervaise
+purchased some tarts for Pauline. She did not like being behindhand—one
+always gained by behaving nicely to her.
+
+The shop was to be ready in four days. The workmen were there three
+weeks. At first it was arranged that they should merely wash the paint.
+But this paint, originally maroon, was so dirty and so sad-looking,
+that Gervaise allowed herself to be tempted to have the whole of the
+frontage painted a light blue with yellow moldings. Then the repairs
+seemed as though they would last for ever. Coupeau, as he was still not
+working, arrived early each morning to see how things were going. Boche
+left the overcoat or trousers on which he was working to come and
+supervise. Both of them would stand and watch with their hands behind
+their backs, puffing on their pipes.
+
+The painters were very merry fellows who would often desert their work
+to stand in the middle of the shop and join the discussion, shaking
+their heads for hours, admiring the work already done. The ceiling had
+been whitewashed quickly, but the paint on the walls never seemed to
+dry in a hurry.
+
+Around nine o’clock the painters would arrive with their paint pots
+which they stuck in a corner. They would look around and then
+disappear. Perhaps they went to eat breakfast. Sometimes Coupeau would
+take everyone for a drink—Boche, the two painters and any of Coupeau’s
+friends who were nearby. This meant another afternoon wasted.
+
+Gervaise’s patience was thoroughly exhausted, when, suddenly,
+everything was finished in two days, the paint varnished, the paper
+hung, and the dirt all cleared away. The workmen had finished it off as
+though they were playing, whistling away on their ladders, and singing
+loud enough to deafen the whole neighborhood.
+
+The moving in took place at once. During the first few days Gervaise
+felt as delighted as a child. Whenever she crossed the road on
+returning from some errand, she lingered to smile at her home. From a
+distance her shop appeared light and gay with its pale blue signboard,
+on which the word “Laundress” was painted in big yellow letters, amidst
+the dark row of the other frontages. In the window, closed in behind by
+little muslin curtains, and hung on either side with blue paper to show
+off the whiteness of the linen, some shirts were displayed, with some
+women’s caps hanging above them on wires. She thought her shop looked
+pretty, being the same color as the heavens.
+
+Inside there was more blue; the paper, in imitation of a Pompadour
+chintz, represented a trellis overgrown with morning-glories. A huge
+table, taking up two-thirds of the room, was her ironing-table. It was
+covered with thick blanketing and draped with a strip of cretonne
+patterned with blue flower sprays that hid the trestles beneath.
+
+Gervaise was enchanted with her pretty establishment and would often
+seat herself on a stool and sigh with contentment, delighted with all
+the new equipment. Her first glance always went to the cast-iron stove
+where the irons were heated ten at a time, arranged over the heat on
+slanting rests. She would kneel down to look into the stove to make
+sure the apprentice had not put in too much coke.
+
+The lodging at the back of the shop was quite decent. The Coupeaus
+slept in the first room, where they also did the cooking and took their
+meals; a door at the back opened on to the courtyard of the house.
+Nana’s bed was in the right hand room, which was lighted by a little
+round window close to the ceiling. As for Etienne, he shared the left
+hand room with the dirty clothes, enormous bundles of which lay about
+on the floor. However, there was one disadvantage—the Coupeaus would
+not admit it at first—but the damp ran down the walls, and it was
+impossible to see clearly in the place after three o’clock in the
+afternoon.
+
+In the neighborhood the new shop produced a great sensation. The
+Coupeaus were accused of going too fast, and making too much fuss. They
+had, in fact, spent the five hundred francs lent by the Goujets in
+fitting up the shop and in moving, without keeping sufficient to live
+upon for a fortnight, as they had intended doing. The morning that
+Gervaise took down her shutters for the first time, she had just six
+francs in her purse. But that did not worry her, customers began to
+arrive, and things seemed promising. A week later on the Saturday,
+before going to bed, she remained two hours making calculations on a
+piece of paper, and she awoke Coupeau to tell him, with a bright look
+on her face, that there were hundreds and thousands of francs to be
+made, if they were only careful.
+
+“Ah, well!” said Madame Lorilleux all over the Rue de la Goutte-d’Or,
+“my fool of a brother is seeing some funny things! All that was wanting
+was that Clump-clump should go about so haughty. It becomes her well,
+doesn’t it?”
+
+The Lorilleuxs had declared a feud to the death against Gervaise. To
+begin with, they had almost died of rage during the time while the
+repairs were being done to the shop. If they caught sight of the
+painters from a distance, they would walk on the other side of the way,
+and go up to their rooms with their teeth set. A blue shop for that
+“nobody,” it was enough to discourage all honest, hard-working people!
+Besides, the second day after the shop opened the apprentice happened
+to throw out a bowl of starch just at the moment when Madame Lorilleux
+was passing. The zinc-worker’s sister caused a great commotion in the
+street, accusing her sister-in-law of insulting her through her
+employees. This broke off all relations. Now they only exchanged
+terrible glares when they encountered each other.
+
+“Yes, she leads a pretty life!” Madame Lorilleux kept saying. “We all
+know where the money came from that she paid for her wretched shop! She
+borrowed it from the blacksmith; and he springs from a nice family too!
+Didn’t the father cut his own throat to save the guillotine the trouble
+of doing so? Anyhow, there was something disreputable of that sort!”
+
+She bluntly accused Gervaise of flirting with Goujet. She lied—she
+pretended she had surprised them together one night on a seat on the
+exterior Boulevards. The thought of this liaison, of pleasures that her
+sister-in-law was no doubt enjoying, exasperated her still more,
+because of her own ugly woman’s strict sense of propriety. Every day
+the same cry came from her heart to her lips.
+
+“What does she have, that wretched cripple, for people to fall in love
+with her? Why doesn’t any one want me?”
+
+She busied herself in endless gossiping among the neighbors. She told
+them the whole story. The day the Coupeaus got married she turned up
+her nose at her. Oh, she had a keen nose, she could smell in advance
+how it would turn out. Then, Clump-clump pretended to be so sweet, what
+a hypocrite! She and her husband had only agreed to be Nana’s
+godparents for the sake of her brother. What a bundle it had cost, that
+fancy christening. If Clump-clump were on her deathbed she wouldn’t
+give her a glass of water, no matter how much she begged.
+
+She didn’t want anything to do with such a shameless baggage. Little
+Nana would always be welcome when she came up to see her godparents.
+The child couldn’t be blamed for her mother’s sins. But there was no
+use trying to tell Coupeau anything. Any real man in his situation
+would have beaten his wife and put a stop to it all. All they wanted
+was for him to insist on respect for his family. _Mon Dieu_! If she,
+Madame Lorilleux, had acted like that, Coupeau wouldn’t be so
+complacent. He would have stabbed her for sure with his shears.
+
+The Boches, however, who sternly disapproved of quarrels in their
+building, said that the Lorilleuxs were in the wrong. The Lorilleuxs
+were no doubt respectable persons, quiet, working the whole day long,
+and paying their rent regularly. But, really, jealousy had driven them
+mad. And they were mean enough to skin an egg, real misers. They were
+so stingy that they’d hide their bottle when any one came in, so as not
+to have to offer a glass of wine—not regular people at all.
+
+Gervaise had brought over cassis and soda water one day to drink with
+the Boches. When Madame Lorilleux went by, she acted out spitting
+before the concierge’s door. Well, after that when Madame Boche swept
+the corridors on Saturdays, she always left a pile of trash before the
+Lorilleuxs’ door.
+
+“It isn’t to be wondered at!” Madame Lorilleux would exclaim,
+“Clump-clump’s always stuffing them, the gluttons! Ah! they’re all
+alike; but they had better not annoy me! I’ll complain to the landlord.
+Only yesterday I saw that sly old Boche chasing after Madame Gaudron’s
+skirts. Just fancy! A woman of that age, and who has half a dozen
+children, too; it’s positively disgusting! If I catch them at anything
+of the sort again, I’ll tell Madame Boche, and she’ll give them both a
+hiding. It’ll be something to laugh at.”
+
+Mother Coupeau continued to visit the two houses, agreeing with
+everybody and even managing to get asked oftener to dinner, by
+complaisantly listening one night to her daughter and the next night to
+her daughter-in-law.
+
+However, Madame Lerat did not go to visit the Coupeaus because she had
+argued with Gervaise about a Zouave who had cut the nose of his
+mistress with a razor. She was on the side of the Zouave, saying it was
+evidence of a great passion, but without explaining further her
+thought. Then, she had made Madame Lorilleux even more angry by telling
+her that Clump-clump had called her “Cow Tail” in front of fifteen or
+twenty people. Yes, that’s what the Boches and all the neighbors called
+her now, “Cow Tail.”
+
+Gervaise remained calm and cheerful among all these goings-on. She
+often stood by the door of her shop greeting friends who passed by with
+a nod and a smile. It was her pleasure to take a moment between batches
+of ironing to enjoy the street and take pride in her own stretch of
+sidewalk.
+
+She felt that the Rue de la Goutte d’Or was hers, and the neighboring
+streets, and the whole neighborhood. As she stood there, with her
+blonde hair slightly damp from the heat of the shop, she would look
+left and right, taking in the people, the buildings, and the sky. To
+the left Rue de la Goutte d’Or was peaceful and almost empty, like a
+country town with women idling in their doorways. While, to the right,
+only a short distance away, Rue des Poissonniers had a noisy throng of
+people and vehicles.
+
+The stretch of gutter before her own shop became very important in her
+mind. It was like a wide river which she longed to see neat and clean.
+It was a lively river, colored by the dye shop with the most fanciful
+of hues which contrasted with the black mud beside it.
+
+Then there were the shops: a large grocery with a display of dried
+fruits protected by mesh nets; a shop selling work clothes which had
+white tunics and blue smocks hanging before it with arms that waved at
+the slightest breeze. Cats were purring on the counters of the fruit
+store and the tripe shop. Madame Vigouroux, the coal dealer next door,
+returned her greetings. She was a plump, short woman with bright eyes
+in a dark face who was always joking with the men while standing at her
+doorway. Her shop was decorated in imitation of a rustic chalet. The
+neighbors on the other side were a mother and daughter, the Cudorges.
+The umbrella sellers kept their door closed and never came out to
+visit.
+
+Gervaise always looked across the road, too, through the wide carriage
+entrance of the windowless wall opposite her, at the blacksmith’s
+forge. The courtyard was cluttered with vans and carts. Inscribed on
+the wall was the word “Blacksmith.”
+
+At the lower end of the wall between the small shops selling scrap iron
+and fried potatoes was a watchmaker. He wore a frock coat and was
+always very neat. His cuckoo clocks could be heard in chorus against
+the background noise of the street and the blacksmith’s rhythmic
+clanging.
+
+The neighborhood in general thought Gervaise very nice. There was, it
+is true, a good deal of scandal related regarding her; but everyone
+admired her large eyes, small mouth and beautiful white teeth. In short
+she was a pretty blonde, and had it not been for her crippled leg she
+might have ranked amongst the comeliest. She was now in her
+twenty-eighth year, and had grown considerably plumper. Her fine
+features were becoming puffy, and her gestures were assuming a pleasant
+indolence.
+
+At times she occasionally seemed to forget herself on the edge of a
+chair, whilst she waited for her iron to heat, smiling vaguely and with
+an expression of greedy joy upon her face. She was becoming fond of
+good living, everybody said so; but that was not a very grave fault,
+but rather the contrary. When one earns sufficient to be able to buy
+good food, one would be foolish to eat potato parings. All the more so
+as she continued to work very hard, slaving to please her customers,
+sitting up late at night after the place was closed, whenever there was
+anything urgent.
+
+She was lucky as all her neighbors said; everything prospered with her.
+She did the washing for all the house—M. Madinier, Mademoiselle
+Remanjou, the Boches. She even secured some of the customers of her old
+employer, Madame Fauconnier, Parisian ladies living in the Rue du
+Faubourg-Poissonniere. As early as the third week she was obliged to
+engage two workwomen, Madame Putois and tall Clemence, the girl who
+used to live on the sixth floor; counting her apprentice, that little
+squint-eyed Augustine, who was as ugly as a beggar’s behind, that made
+three persons in her employ. Others would certainly have lost their
+heads at such a piece of good fortune. It was excusable for her to
+slack a little on Monday after drudging all through the week. Besides,
+it was necessary to her. She would have had no courage left, and would
+have expected to see the shirts iron themselves, if she had not been
+able to dress up in some pretty thing.
+
+Gervaise was always so amiable, meek as a lamb, sweet as sugar. There
+wasn’t any one she disliked except Madame Lorilleux. While she was
+enjoying a good meal and coffee, she could be indulgent and forgive
+everybody saying: “We have to forgive each other—don’t we?—unless we
+want to live like savages.” Hadn’t all her dreams come true? She
+remembered her old dream: to have a job, enough bread to eat and a
+corner in which to sleep, to bring up her children, not to be beaten,
+and to die in her own bed. She had everything she wanted now and more
+than she had ever expected. She laughed, thinking of delaying dying in
+her own bed as long as possible.
+
+It was to Coupeau especially that Gervaise behaved nicely. Never an
+angry word, never a complaint behind her husband’s back. The
+zinc-worker had at length resumed work; and as the job he was engaged
+on was at the other side of Paris, she gave him every morning forty
+sous for his luncheon, his glass of wine and his tobacco. Only, two
+days out of every six, Coupeau would stop on the way, spend the forty
+sous in drink with a friend, and return home to lunch, with some
+cock-and-bull story. Once even he did not take the trouble to go far;
+he treated himself, My-Boots and three others to a regular
+feast—snails, roast meat, and some sealed bottles of wine—at the
+“Capuchin,” on the Barriere de la Chapelle. Then, as his forty sous
+were not sufficient, he had sent the waiter to his wife with the bill
+and the information that he was in pawn. She laughed and shrugged her
+shoulders. Where was the harm if her old man amused himself a bit? You
+must give men a long rein if you want to live peaceably at home. From
+one word to another, one soon arrived at blows. _Mon Dieu_! It was easy
+to understand. Coupeau still suffered from his leg; besides, he was led
+astray. He was obliged to do as the others did, or else he would be
+thought a cheap skate. And it was really a matter of no consequence. If
+he came home a bit elevated, he went to bed, and two hours afterwards
+he was all right again.
+
+It was now the warm time of the year. One June afternoon, a Saturday
+when there was a lot of work to get through, Gervaise herself had piled
+the coke into the stove, around which ten irons were heating, whilst a
+rumbling sound issued from the chimney. At that hour the sun was
+shining full on the shop front, and the pavement reflected the heat
+waves, causing all sorts of quaint shadows to dance over the ceiling,
+and that blaze of light which assumed a bluish tinge from the color of
+the paper on the shelves and against the window, was almost blinding in
+the intensity with which it shone over the ironing-table, like a golden
+dust shaken among the fine linen. The atmosphere was stifling. The shop
+door was thrown wide open, but not a breath of air entered; the clothes
+which were hung up on brass wires to dry, steamed and became as stiff
+as shavings in less than three quarters of an hour. For some little
+while past an oppressive silence had reigned in that furnace-like heat,
+interrupted only by the smothered sound of the banging down of the
+irons on the thick blanket covered with calico.
+
+“Ah, well!” said Gervaise, “it’s enough to melt one! We might have to
+take off our chemises.”
+
+She was sitting on the floor, in front of a basin, starching some
+things. Her sleeves were rolled up and her camisole was slipping down
+her shoulders. Little curls of golden hair were stuck to her skin by
+perspiration. She carefully dipped caps, shirt-fronts, entire
+petticoats, and the trimmings of women’s drawers into the milky water.
+Then she rolled the things up and placed them at the bottom of a square
+basket, after dipping her hand in a pail and shaking it over the
+portions of the shirts and drawers which she had not starched.
+
+“This basketful’s for you, Madame Putois,” she said. “Look sharp, now!
+It dries at once, and will want doing all over again in an hour.”
+
+Madame Putois, a thin little woman of forty-five, was ironing. Though
+she was buttoned up in an old chestnut-colored dress, there was not a
+drop of perspiration to be seen. She had not even taken her cap off, a
+black cap trimmed with green ribbons turned partly yellow. And she
+stood perfectly upright in front of the ironing-table, which was too
+high for her, sticking out her elbows, and moving her iron with the
+jerky evolutions of a puppet. On a sudden she exclaimed:
+
+“Ah, no! Mademoiselle Clemence, you mustn’t take your camisole off. You
+know I don’t like such indecencies. Whilst you’re about it, you’d
+better show everything. There’s already three men over the way stopping
+to look.”
+
+Tall Clemence called her an old beast between her teeth. She was
+suffocating; she might certainly make herself comfortable; everyone was
+not gifted with a skin as dry as touchwood. Besides no one could see
+anything; and she held up her arms, whilst her opulent bosom almost
+ripped her chemise, and her shoulders were bursting through the straps.
+At the rate she was going, Clemence was not likely to have any marrow
+left in her bones long before she was thirty years old. Mornings after
+big parties she was unable to feel the ground she trod upon, and fell
+asleep over her work, whilst her head and her stomach seemed as though
+stuffed full of rags. But she was kept on all the same, for no other
+workwoman could iron a shirt with her style. Shirts were her specialty.
+
+“This is mine, isn’t it?” she declared, tapping her bosom. “And it
+doesn’t bite; it hurts nobody!”
+
+“Clemence, put your wrapper on again,” said Gervaise. “Madame Putois is
+right, it isn’t decent. People will begin to take my house for what it
+isn’t.”
+
+So tall Clemence dressed herself again, grumbling the while. “_Mon
+Dieu!_ There’s prudery for you.”
+
+And she vented her rage on the apprentice, that squint-eyed Augustine
+who was ironing some stockings and handkerchiefs beside her. She
+jostled her and pushed her with her elbow; but Augustine who was of a
+surly disposition, and slyly spiteful in the way of an animal and a
+drudge, spat on the back of the other’s dress just out of revenge,
+without being seen. Gervaise, during this incident, had commenced a cap
+belonging to Madame Boche, which she intended to take great pains with.
+She had prepared some boiled starch to make it look new again. She was
+gently passing a little iron rounded at both ends over the inside of
+the crown of the cap, when a bony-looking woman entered the shop, her
+face covered with red blotches and her skirts sopping wet. It was a
+washerwoman who employed three assistants at the wash-house in the Rue
+de la Goutte-d’Or.
+
+“You’ve come too soon, Madame Bijard!” cried Gervaise. “I told you to
+call this evening. I’m too busy to attend to you now!”
+
+But as the washerwoman began lamenting and fearing that she would not
+be able to put all the things to soak that day, she consented to give
+her the dirty clothes at once. They went to fetch the bundles in the
+left hand room where Etienne slept, and returned with enormous armfuls
+which they piled up on the floor at the back of the shop. The sorting
+lasted a good half hour. Gervaise made heaps all round her, throwing
+the shirts in one, the chemises in another, the handkerchiefs, the
+socks, the dish-cloths in others. Whenever she came across anything
+belonging to a new customer, she marked it with a cross in red cotton
+thread so as to know it again. And from all this dirty linen which they
+were throwing about there issued an offensive odor in the warm
+atmosphere.
+
+“Oh! La, la. What a stench!” said Clemence, holding her nose.
+
+“Of course there is! If it were clean they wouldn’t send it to us,”
+quietly explained Gervaise. “It smells as one would expect it to,
+that’s all! We said fourteen chemises, didn’t we, Madame Bijard?
+Fifteen, sixteen, seventeen—”
+
+And she continued counting aloud. Used to this kind of thing she
+evinced no disgust. She thrust her bare pink arms deep into the piles
+of laundry: shirts yellow with grime, towels stiff from dirty dish
+water, socks threadbare and eaten away by sweat. The strong odor which
+slapped her in the face as she sorted the piles of clothes made her
+feel drowsy. She seemed to be intoxicating herself with this stench of
+humanity as she sat on the edge of a stool, bending far over, smiling
+vaguely, her eyes slightly misty. It was as if her laziness was started
+by a kind of smothering caused by the dirty clothes which poisoned the
+air in the shop. Just as she was shaking out a child’s dirty diaper,
+Coupeau came in.
+
+“By Jove!” he stuttered, “what a sun! It shines full on your head!”
+
+The zinc-worker caught hold of the ironing-table to save himself from
+falling. It was the first time he had been so drunk. Until then he had
+sometimes come home slightly tipsy, but nothing more. This time,
+however, he had a black eye, just a friendly slap he had run up against
+in a playful moment. His curly hair, already streaked with grey, must
+have dusted a corner in some low wineshop, for a cobweb was hanging to
+one of his locks over the back of his neck. He was still as attractive
+as ever, though his features were rather drawn and aged, and his under
+jaw projected more; but he was always lively, as he would sometimes
+say, with a complexion to be envied by a duchess.
+
+“I’ll just explain it to you,” he resumed, addressing Gervaise.
+
+“It was Celery-Root, you know him, the bloke with a wooden leg. Well,
+as he was going back to his native place, he wanted to treat us. Oh! We
+were all right, if it hadn’t been for that devil of a sun. In the
+street everybody looks shaky. Really, all the world’s drunk!”
+
+And as tall Clemence laughed at his thinking that the people in the
+street were drunk, he was himself seized with an intense fit of gaiety
+which almost strangled him.
+
+“Look at them! The blessed tipplers! Aren’t they funny?” he cried. “But
+it’s not their fault. It’s the sun that’s causing it.”
+
+All the shop laughed, even Madame Putois, who did not like drunkards.
+That squint-eyed Augustine was cackling like a hen, suffocating with
+her mouth wide open. Gervaise, however, suspected Coupeau of not having
+come straight home, but of having passed an hour with the Lorilleuxs
+who were always filling his head with unpleasant ideas. When he swore
+he had not been near them she laughed also, full of indulgence and not
+even reproaching him with having wasted another day.
+
+“_Mon Dieu!_ What nonsense he does talk,” she murmured. “How does he
+manage to say such stupid things?” Then in a maternal tone of voice she
+added, “Now go to bed, won’t you? You see we’re busy; you’re in our
+way. That makes thirty-two handkerchiefs, Madame Bijard; and two more,
+thirty-four.”
+
+But Coupeau was not sleepy. He stood there wagging his body from side
+to side like the pendulum of a clock and chuckling in an obstinate and
+teasing manner. Gervaise, wanting to finish with Madame Bijard, called
+to Clemence to count the laundry while she made the list. Tall Clemence
+made a dirty remark about every item that she touched. She commented on
+the customers’ misfortunes and their bedroom adventures. She had a
+wash-house joke for every rip or stain that passed through her hands.
+Augustine pretended that she didn’t understand, but her ears were wide
+open. Madame Putois compressed her lips, thinking it a disgrace to say
+such things in front of Coupeau. It’s not a man’s business to have
+anything to do with dirty linen. It’s just not done among decent
+people.
+
+Gervaise, serious and her mind fully occupied with what she was about,
+did not seem to notice. As she wrote she gave a glance to each article
+as it passed before her, so as to recognize it; and she never made a
+mistake; she guessed the owner’s name just by the look or the color.
+Those napkins belonged to the Goujets, that was evident; they had not
+been used to wipe out frying-pans. That pillow-case certainly came from
+the Boches on account of the pomatum with which Madame Boche always
+smeared her things. There was no need to put your nose close to the
+flannel vests of Monsieur Madinier; his skin was so oily that it
+clogged up his woolens.
+
+She knew many peculiarities, the cleanliness of some, the ragged
+underclothes of neighborhood ladies who appeared on the streets in silk
+dresses; how many items each family soiled weekly; the way some
+people’s garments were always torn at the same spot. Oh, she had many
+tales to tell. For instance, the chemises of Mademoiselle Remanjou
+provided material for endless comments: they wore out at the top first
+because the old maid had bony, sharp shoulders; and they were never
+really dirty, proving that you dry up by her age, like a stick of wood
+out of which it’s hard to squeeze a drop of anything. It was thus that
+at every sorting of the dirty linen in the shop they undressed the
+whole neighborhood of the Goutte-d’Or.
+
+“Oh, here’s something luscious!” cried Clemence, opening another
+bundle.
+
+Gervaise, suddenly seized with a great repugnance, drew back.
+
+“Madame Gaudron’s bundle?” said she. “I’ll no longer wash for her, I’ll
+find some excuse. No, I’m not more particular than another. I’ve
+handled some most disgusting linen in my time; but really, that lot I
+can’t stomach. What can the woman do to get her things into such a
+state?”
+
+And she requested Clemence to look sharp. But the girl continued her
+remarks, thrusting the clothes sullenly about her, with complaints on
+the soiled caps she waved like triumphal banners of filth. Meanwhile
+the heaps around Gervaise had grown higher. Still seated on the edge of
+the stool, she was now disappearing between the petticoats and
+chemises. In front of her were the sheets, the table cloths, a
+veritable mass of dirtiness.
+
+She seemed even rosier and more languid than usual within this
+spreading sea of soiled laundry. She had regained her composure,
+forgetting Madame Gaudron’s laundry, stirring the various piles of
+clothing to make sure there had been no mistake in sorting. Squint-eyed
+Augustine had just stuffed the stove so full of coke that its cast-iron
+sides were bright red. The sun was shining obliquely on the window; the
+shop was in a blaze. Then, Coupeau, whom the great heat intoxicated all
+the more, was seized with a sudden fit of tenderness. He advanced
+towards Gervaise with open arms and deeply moved.
+
+“You’re a good wife,” he stammered. “I must kiss you.”
+
+But he caught his foot in the garments which barred the way and nearly
+fell.
+
+“What a nuisance you are!” said Gervaise without getting angry. “Keep
+still, we’re nearly done now.”
+
+No, he wanted to kiss her. He must do so because he loved her so much.
+Whilst he stuttered he tried to get round the heap of petticoats and
+stumbled against the pile of chemises; then as he obstinately persisted
+his feet caught together and he fell flat, his nose in the midst of the
+dish-cloths. Gervaise, beginning to lose her temper pushed him, saying
+that he was mixing all the things up. But Clemence and even Madame
+Putois maintained that she was wrong. It was very nice of him after
+all. He wanted to kiss her. She might very well let herself be kissed.
+
+“You’re lucky, you are, Madame Coupeau,” said Madame Bijard, whose
+drunkard of a husband, a locksmith, was nearly beating her to death
+each evening when he came in. “If my old man was like that when he’s
+had a drop, it would be a real pleasure!”
+
+Gervaise had calmed down and was already regretting her hastiness. She
+helped Coupeau up on his legs again. Then she offered her cheek with a
+smile. But the zinc-worker, without caring a button for the other
+people being present, seized her bosom.
+
+“It’s not for the sake of saying so,” he murmured; “but your dirty
+linen stinks tremendously! Still, I love you all the same, you know.”
+
+“Leave off, you’re tickling me,” cried she, laughing the louder. “What
+a great silly you are! How can you be so absurd?”
+
+He had caught hold of her and would not let her go. She gradually
+abandoned herself to him, dizzy from the slight faintness caused by the
+heap of clothes and not minding Coupeau’s foul-smelling breath. The
+long kiss they exchanged on each other’s mouths in the midst of the
+filth of the laundress’s trade was perhaps the first tumble in the slow
+downfall of their life together.
+
+Madame Bijard had meanwhile been tying the laundry up into bundles and
+talking about her daughter, Eulalie, who at two was as smart as a grown
+woman. She could be left by herself; she never cried or played with
+matches. Finally Madame Bijard took the laundry away a bundle at a
+time, her face splotched with purple and her tall form bent under the
+weight.
+
+“This heat is becoming unbearable, we’re roasting,” said Gervaise,
+wiping her face before returning to Madame Boche’s cap.
+
+They talked of boxing Augustine’s ears when they saw that the stove was
+red-hot. The irons, also, were getting in the same condition. She must
+have the very devil in her body! One could not turn one’s back a moment
+without her being up to some of her tricks. Now they would have to wait
+a quarter of an hour before they would be able to use their irons.
+Gervaise covered the fire with two shovelfuls of cinders. Then she
+thought to hang some sheets on the brass wires near the ceiling to
+serve as curtains to keep out the sunlight.
+
+Things were now better in the shop. The temperature was still high, but
+you could imagine it was cooler. Footsteps could still be heard outside
+but you were free to make yourself comfortable. Clemence removed her
+camisole again. Coupeau still refused to go to bed, so they allowed him
+to stay, but he had to promise to be quiet in a corner, for they were
+very busy.
+
+“Whatever has that vermin done with my little iron?” murmured Gervaise,
+speaking of Augustine.
+
+They were for ever seeking the little iron, which they found in the
+most out-of-the-way places, where the apprentice, so they said, hid it
+out of spite. Gervaise could now finish Madame Boche’s cap. First she
+roughly smoothed the lace, spreading it out with her hand, and then she
+straightened it up by light strokes of the iron. It had a very fancy
+border consisting of narrow puffs alternating with insertions of
+embroidery. She was working on it silently and conscientiously, ironing
+the puffs and insertions.
+
+Silence prevailed for a time. Nothing was to be heard except the soft
+thud of irons on the ironing pad. On both sides of the huge rectangular
+table Gervaise, her two employees, and the apprentice were bending
+over, slaving at their tasks with rounded shoulders, their arms moving
+incessantly. Each had a flat brick blackened by hot irons near her. A
+soup plate filled with clean water was on the middle of the table with
+a moistening rag and a small brush soaking in it.
+
+A bouquet of large white lilies bloomed in what had once been a
+brandied cherry jar. Its cluster of snowy flowers suggested a corner of
+a royal garden. Madame Putois had begun the basket that Gervaise had
+brought to her filled with towels, wrappers, cuffs and underdrawers.
+Augustine was dawdling with the stockings and washcloths, gazing into
+the air, seemingly fascinated by a large fly that was buzzing around.
+Clemence had done thirty-four men’s shirts so far that day.
+
+“Always wine, never spirits!” suddenly said the zinc-worker, who felt
+the necessity of making this declaration. “Spirits make me drunk, I’ll
+have none of them.”
+
+Clemence took an iron from the stove with her leather holder in which a
+piece of sheet iron was inserted, and held it up to her cheek to see
+how hot it was. She rubbed it on her brick, wiped it on a piece of rag
+hanging from her waist-band and started on her thirty-fifth shirt,
+first of all ironing the shoulders and the sleeves.
+
+“Bah! Monsieur Coupeau,” said she after a minute or two, “a little
+glass of brandy isn’t bad. It sets me going. Besides, the sooner you’re
+merry, the jollier it is. Oh! I don’t make any mistake; I know that I
+shan’t make old bones.”
+
+“What a nuisance you are with your funeral ideas!” interrupted Madame
+Putois who did not like hearing people talk of anything sad.
+
+Coupeau had arisen and was becoming angry thinking that he had been
+accused of drinking brandy. He swore on his own head and on the heads
+of his wife and child that there was not a drop of brandy in his veins.
+And he went up to Clemence and blew in her face so that she might smell
+his breath. Then he began to giggle because her bare shoulders were
+right under his nose. He thought maybe he could see more. Clemence,
+having folded over the back of the shirt and ironed it on both sides,
+was now working on the cuffs and collar. However, as he was shoving
+against her, he caused her to make a wrinkle, obliging her to reach for
+the brush soaking in the soup plate to smooth it out.
+
+“Madame,” said she, “do make him leave off bothering me.”
+
+“Leave her alone; it’s stupid of you to go on like that,” quietly
+observed Gervaise. “We’re in a hurry, do you hear?”
+
+They were in a hurry, well! What? It was not his fault. He was doing no
+harm. He was not touching, he was only looking. Was it no longer
+allowed to look at the beautiful things that God had made? All the
+same, she had precious fine arms, that artful Clemence! She might
+exhibit herself for two sous and nobody would have to regret his money.
+The girl allowed him to go on, laughing at these coarse compliments of
+a drunken man. And she soon commenced joking with him. He chuffed her
+about the shirts. So she was always doing shirts? Why yes, she
+practically lived in them. _Mon Dieu!_ She knew them pretty well.
+Hundreds and hundreds of them had passed through her hands. Just about
+every man in the neighborhood was wearing her handiwork on his body.
+Her shoulders were shaking with laughter through all this, but she
+managed to continue ironing.
+
+“That’s the banter!” said she, laughing harder than ever.
+
+That squint-eyed Augustine almost burst, the joke seemed to her so
+funny. The others bullied her. There was a brat for you who laughed at
+words she ought not to understand! Clemence handed her her iron; the
+apprentice finished up the irons on the stockings and the dish-cloths
+when they were not hot enough for the starched things. But she took
+hold of this one so clumsily that she made herself a cuff in the form
+of a long burn on the wrist. And she sobbed and accused Clemence of
+having burnt her on purpose. The latter who had gone to fetch a very
+hot iron for the shirt-front consoled her at once by threatening to
+iron her two ears if she did not leave off. Then she placed a piece of
+flannel under the front and slowly passed the iron over it giving the
+starch time to show up and dry. The shirt-front became as stiff and as
+shiny as cardboard.
+
+“By golly!” swore Coupeau, who was treading behind her with the
+obstinacy of a drunkard.
+
+He raised himself up with a shrill laugh that resembled a pulley in
+want of grease. Clemence, leaning heavily over the ironing-table, her
+wrists bent in, her elbows sticking out and wide apart was bending her
+neck in a last effort; and all her muscles swelled, her shoulders rose
+with the slow play of the muscles beating beneath the soft skin, her
+breasts heaved, wet with perspiration in the rosy shadow of the half
+open chemise. Then Coupeau thrust out his hands, trying to touch her
+bare flesh.
+
+“Madame! Madame!” cried Clemence, “do make him leave off! I shall go
+away if it continues. I won’t be intimated.”
+
+Gervaise glanced over just as her husband’s hands began to explore
+inside the chemise.
+
+“Really, Coupeau, you’re too foolish,” said she, with a vexed air, as
+though she were scolding a child who persisted in eating his jam
+without bread. “You must go to bed.”
+
+“Yes, go to bed, Monsieur Coupeau; it will be far better,” exclaimed
+Madame Putois.
+
+“Ah! Well,” stuttered he, without ceasing to chuckle, “you’re all
+precious particular! So one mustn’t amuse oneself now? Women, I know
+how to handle them; I’ll only kiss them, no more. One admires a lady,
+you know, and wants to show it. And, besides, when one displays one’s
+goods, it’s that one may make one’s choice, isn’t it? Why does the tall
+blonde show everything she’s got? It’s not decent.”
+
+And turning towards Clemence, he added: “You know, my lovely, you’re
+wrong to be to very insolent. If it’s because there are others here—”
+
+But he was unable to continue. Gervaise very calmly seized hold of him
+with one hand, and placed the other on his mouth. He struggled, just by
+way of a joke, whilst she pushed him to the back of the shop, towards
+the bedroom. He got his mouth free and said that he was willing to go
+to bed, but that the tall blonde must come and warm his feet.
+
+Then Gervaise could be heard taking off his shoes. She removed his
+clothes too, bullying him in a motherly way. He burst out laughing
+after she had removed his trousers and kicked about, pretending that
+she was tickling him. At last she tucked him in carefully like a child.
+Was he comfortable now? But he did not answer; he called to Clemence:
+
+“I say, my lovely, I’m here, and waiting for you!”
+
+When Gervaise went back into the shop, the squint-eyed Augustine was
+being properly chastised by Clemence because of a dirty iron that
+Madame Putois had used and which had caused her to soil a camisole.
+Clemence, in defending herself for not having cleaned her iron, blamed
+Augustine, swearing that it wasn’t hers, in spite of the spot of burned
+starch still clinging to the bottom. The apprentice, outraged at the
+injustice, openly spat on the front of Clemence’s dress, earning a slap
+for her boldness. Now, as Augustine went about cleaning the iron, she
+saved up her spit and each time she passed Clemence spat on her back
+and laughed to herself.
+
+Gervaise continued with the lace of Madame Boche’s cap. In the sudden
+calm which ensued, one could hear Coupeau’s husky voice issuing from
+the depths of the bedroom. He was still jolly, and was laughing to
+himself as he uttered bits of phrases.
+
+“How stupid she is, my wife! How stupid of her to put me to bed!
+Really, it’s too absurd, in the middle of the day, when one isn’t
+sleepy.”
+
+But, all on a sudden, he snored. Then Gervaise gave a sigh of relief,
+happy in knowing that he was at length quiet, and sleeping off his
+intoxication on two good mattresses. And she spoke out in the silence,
+in a slow and continuous voice, without taking her eyes off her work.
+
+“You see, he hasn’t his reason, one can’t be angry. Were I to be harsh
+with him, it would be of no use. I prefer to agree with him and get him
+to bed; then, at least, it’s over at once and I’m quiet. Besides, he
+isn’t ill-natured, he loves me very much. You could see that just a
+moment ago when he was desperate to give me a kiss. That’s quite nice
+of him. There are plenty of men, you know, who after drinking a bit
+don’t come straight home but stay out chasing women. Oh, he may fool
+around with the women in the shop, but it doesn’t lead to anything.
+Clemence, you mustn’t feel insulted. You know how it is when a man’s
+had too much to drink. He could do anything and not even remember it.”
+
+She spoke composedly, not at all angry, being quite used to Coupeau’s
+sprees and not holding them against him. A silence settled down for a
+while when she stopped talking. There was a lot of work to get done.
+They figured they would have to keep at it until eleven, working as
+fast as they could. Now that they were undisturbed, all of them were
+pounding away. Bare arms were moving back and forth, showing glimpses
+of pink among the whiteness of the laundry.
+
+More coke had been put into the stove and the sunlight slanted in
+between the sheets onto the stove. You could see the heat rising up
+through the rays of the sun. It became so stifling that Augustine ran
+out of spit and was forced to lick her lips. The room smelled of the
+heat and of the working women. The white lilies in the jar were
+beginning to fade, yet they still exuded a pure and strong perfume.
+Coupeau’s heavy snores were heard like the regular ticking of a huge
+clock, setting the tempo for the heavy labor in the shop.
+
+On the morrow of his carouses, the zinc-worker always had a headache, a
+splitting headache which kept him all day with his hair uncombed, his
+breath offensive, and his mouth all swollen and askew. He got up late
+on those days, not shaking the fleas off till about eight o’clock; and
+he would hang about the shop, unable to make up his mind to start off
+to his work. It was another day lost. In the morning he would complain
+that his legs bent like pieces of thread, and would call himself a
+great fool to guzzle to such an extent, as it broke one’s constitution.
+Then, too, there were a lot of lazy bums who wouldn’t let you go and
+you’d get to drinking more in spite of yourself. No, no, no more for
+him.
+
+After lunch he would always begin to perk up and deny that he had been
+really drunk the night before. Maybe just a bit lit up. He was rock
+solid and able to drink anything he wanted without even blinking an
+eye.
+
+When he had thoroughly badgered the workwomen, Gervaise would give him
+twenty sous to clear out. And off he would go to buy his tobacco at the
+“Little Civet,” in the Rue des Poissonniers, where he generally took a
+plum in brandy whenever he met a friend. Then, he spent the rest of the
+twenty sous at old Francois’s, at the corner of the Rue de la
+Goutte-d’Or, where there was a famous wine, quite young, which tickled
+your gullet. This was an old-fashioned place with a low ceiling. There
+was a smoky room to one side where soup was served. He would stay there
+until evening drinking because there was an understanding that he
+didn’t have to pay right away and they would never send the bill to his
+wife. Besides he was a jolly fellow, who would never do the least
+harm—a chap who loved a spree sure enough, and who colored his nose in
+his turn but in a nice manner, full of contempt for those pigs of men
+who have succumbed to alcohol, and whom one never sees sober! He always
+went home as gay and as gallant as a lark.
+
+“Has your lover been?” he would sometimes ask Gervaise by way of
+teasing her. “One never sees him now; I must go and rout him out.”
+
+The lover was Goujet. He avoided, in fact, calling too often for fear
+of being in the way, and also of causing people to talk. Yet he
+frequently found a pretext, such as bringing the washing; and he would
+pass no end of time on the pavement in front of the shop. There was a
+corner right at the back in which he liked to sit, without moving for
+hours, and smoke his short pipe. Once every ten days, in the evening
+after his dinner, he would venture there and take up his favorite
+position. And he was no talker, his mouth almost seemed sewn up, as he
+sat with his eyes fixed on Gervaise, and only removed his pipe to laugh
+at everything she said. When they were working late on a Saturday he
+would stay on, and appeared to amuse himself more than if he had gone
+to a theatre.
+
+Sometimes the women stayed in the shop ironing until three in the
+morning. A lamp hung from the ceiling and spread a brilliant light
+making the linen look like fresh snow. The apprentice would put up the
+shop shutters, but since these July nights were scorching hot, the door
+would be left open. The later the hour the more casual the women became
+with their clothes while trying to be comfortable. The lamplight
+flecked their rosy skin with gold specks, especially Gervaise who was
+so pleasantly rounded.
+
+On these nights Goujet would be overcome by the heat from the stove and
+the odor of linen steaming under the hot irons. He would drift into a
+sort of giddiness, his thinking slowed and his eyes obsessed by these
+hurrying women as their naked arms moved back and forth, working far
+into the night to have the neighborhood’s best clothes ready for
+Sunday.
+
+Everything around the laundry was slumbering, settled into sleep for
+the night. Midnight rang, then one o’clock, then two o’clock. There
+were no vehicles or pedestrians. In the dark and deserted street, only
+their shop door let out any light. Once in a while, footsteps would be
+heard and a man would pass the shop. As he crossed the path of light he
+would stretch his neck to look in, startled by the sound of the
+thudding irons, and carry with him the quick glimpse of bare-shouldered
+laundresses immersed in a rosy mist.
+
+Goujet, seeing that Gervaise did not know what to do with Etienne, and
+wishing to deliver him from Coupeau’s kicks, had engaged him to go and
+blow the bellows at the factory where he worked. The profession of
+bolt-maker, if not one to be proud of on account of the dirt of the
+forge and of the monotony of constantly hammering on pieces of iron of
+a similar kind, was nevertheless a well paid one, at which ten and even
+twelve francs a day could be earned. The youngster, who was then twelve
+years old, would soon be able to go in for it, if the calling was to
+his liking. And Etienne had thus become another link between the
+laundress and the blacksmith. The latter would bring the child home and
+speak of his good conduct. Everyone laughingly said that Goujet was
+smitten with Gervaise. She knew it, and blushed like a young girl, the
+flush of modesty coloring her cheeks with the bright tints of an apple.
+The poor fellow, he was never any trouble! He never made a bold gesture
+or an indelicate remark. You didn’t find many men like him. Gervaise
+didn’t want to admit it, but she derived a great deal of pleasure from
+being adored like this. Whenever a problem arose she thought
+immediately of the blacksmith and was consoled. There was never any
+awkward tension when they were alone together. They just looked at each
+other and smiled happily with no need to talk. It was a very sensible
+kind of affection.
+
+Towards the end of the summer, Nana quite upset the household. She was
+six years old and promised to be a thorough good-for-nothing. So as not
+to have her always under her feet her mother took her every morning to
+a little school in the Rue Polonceau kept by Mademoiselle Josse. She
+fastened her playfellows’ dresses together behind, she filled the
+school-mistress’s snuff-box with ashes, and invented other tricks much
+less decent which could not be mentioned. Twice Mademoiselle Josse
+expelled her and then took her back again so as not to lose the six
+francs a month. Directly lessons were over Nana avenged herself for
+having been kept in by making an infernal noise under the porch and in
+the courtyard where the ironers, whose ears could not stand the racket,
+sent her to play. There she would meet Pauline, the Boches’ daughter,
+and Victor, the son of Gervaise’s old employer—a big booby of ten who
+delighted in playing with very little girls. Madame Fauconnier who had
+not quarreled with the Coupeaus would herself send her son. In the
+house, too, there was an extraordinary swarm of brats, flights of
+children who rolled down the four staircases at all hours of the day
+and alighted on the pavement of the courtyard like troops of noisy
+pillaging sparrows. Madame Gaudron was responsible for nine of them,
+all with uncombed hair, runny noses, hand-me-down clothes, saggy
+stockings and ripped jackets. Another woman on the sixth floor had
+seven of them. This hoard that only got their faces washed when it
+rained were in all shapes and sizes, fat, thin, big and barely out of
+the cradle.
+
+Nana reigned supreme over this host of urchins; she ordered about girls
+twice her own size, and only deigned to relinquish a little of her
+power in favor of Pauline and Victor, intimate confidants who enforced
+her commands. This precious chit was for ever wanting to play at being
+mamma, undressing the smallest ones to dress them again, insisting on
+examining the others all over, messing them about and exercising the
+capricious despotism of a grown-up person with a vicious disposition.
+Under her leadership they got up tricks for which they should have been
+well spanked. The troop paddled in the colored water from the dyer’s
+and emerged from it with legs stained blue or red as high as the knees;
+then off it flew to the locksmith’s where it purloined nails and
+filings and started off again to alight in the midst of the carpenter’s
+shavings, enormous heaps of shavings, which delighted it immensely and
+in which it rolled head over heels exposing their behinds.
+
+The courtyard was her kingdom. It echoed with the clatter of little
+shoes as they stampeded back and forth with piercing cries. On some
+days the courtyard was too small for them and the troop would dash down
+into the cellar, race up a staircase, run along a corridor, then dash
+up another staircase and follow another corridor for hours. They never
+got tired of their yelling and clambering.
+
+“Aren’t they abominable, those little toads?” cried Madame Boche.
+“Really, people can have but very little to do to have time to get so
+many brats. And yet they complain of having no bread.”
+
+Boche said that children pushed up out of poverty like mushrooms out of
+manure. All day long his wife was screaming at them and chasing them
+with her broom. Finally she had to lock the door of the cellar when she
+learned from Pauline that Nana was playing doctor down there in the
+dark, viciously finding pleasure in applying remedies to the others by
+beating them with sticks.
+
+Well, one afternoon there was a frightful scene. It was bound to have
+come sooner or later. Nana had thought of a very funny little game. She
+had stolen one of Madame Boche’s wooden shoes from outside the
+concierge’s room. She tied a string to it and began dragging it about
+like a cart. Victor on his side had had the idea to fill it with potato
+parings. Then a procession was formed. Nana came first dragging the
+wooden shoe. Pauline and Victor walked on her right and left. Then the
+entire crowd of urchins followed in order, the big ones first, the
+little ones next, jostling one another; a baby in long skirts about as
+tall as a boot with an old tattered bonnet cocked on one side of its
+head, brought up the rear. And the procession chanted something sad
+with plenty of ohs! and ahs! Nana had said that they were going to play
+at a funeral; the potato parings represented the body. When they had
+gone the round of the courtyard, they recommenced. They thought it
+immensely amusing.
+
+“What can they be up to?” murmured Madame Boche, who emerged from her
+room to see, ever mistrustful and on the alert.
+
+And when she understood: “But it’s my shoe!” cried she furiously. “Ah,
+the rogues!”
+
+She distributed some smacks, clouted Nana on both cheeks and
+administered a kick to Pauline, that great goose who allowed the others
+to steal her mother’s shoe. It so happened that Gervaise was filling a
+bucket at the tap. When she beheld Nana, her nose bleeding and choking
+with sobs, she almost sprang at the concierge’s chignon. It was not
+right to hit a child as though it were an ox. One could have no heart,
+one must be the lowest of the low if one did so. Madame Boche naturally
+replied in a similar strain. When one had a beast of a girl like that
+one should keep her locked up. At length Boche himself appeared in the
+doorway to call his wife to come in and not to enter into so many
+explanations with a filthy thing like her. There was a regular quarrel.
+
+As a matter of fact things had not gone on very pleasantly between the
+Boches and the Coupeaus for a month past. Gervaise, who was of a very
+generous nature, was continually bestowing wine, broth, oranges and
+slices of cake on the Boches. One night she had taken the remains of an
+endive and beetroot salad to the concierge’s room, knowing that the
+latter would have done anything for such a treat. But on the morrow she
+became quite pale with rage on hearing Mademoiselle Remanjou relate how
+Madame Boche had thrown the salad away in the presence of several
+persons with an air of disgust and under the pretext that she, thank
+goodness, was not yet reduced to feeding on things which others had
+messed about. From that time Gervaise took no more presents to the
+Boches—nothing. Now the Boches seemed to think that Gervaise was
+stealing something which was rightfully theirs. Gervaise saw that she
+had made a mistake. If she hadn’t catered to them so much in the
+beginning, they wouldn’t have gotten into the habit of expecting it and
+might have remained on good terms with her.
+
+Now the concierge began to spread slander about Gervaise. There was a
+great fuss with the landlord, Monsieur Marescot, at the October rental
+period, because Gervaise was a day late with the rent. Madame Boche
+accused her of eating up all her money in fancy dishes. Monsieur
+Marescot charged into the laundry demanding to be paid at once. He
+didn’t even bother to remove his hat. The money was ready and was paid
+to him immediately. The Boches had now made up with the Lorilleuxs who
+now came and did their guzzling in the concierge’s lodge. They assured
+each other that they never would have fallen out if it hadn’t been for
+Clump-clump. She was enough to set mountains to fighting. Ah! the
+Boches knew her well now, they could understand how much the Lorilleuxs
+must suffer. And whenever she passed beneath the doorway they all
+affected to sneer at her.
+
+One day, Gervaise went up to see the Lorilleuxs in spite of this. It
+was with respect to mother Coupeau who was then sixty-seven years old.
+Mother Coupeau’s eyesight was almost completely gone. Her legs too were
+no longer what they used to be. She had been obliged to give up her
+last cleaning job and now threatened to die of hunger if assistance
+were not forthcoming. Gervaise thought it shameful that a woman of her
+age, having three children should be thus abandoned by heaven and
+earth. And as Coupeau refused to speak to the Lorilleuxs on the subject
+saying that she, Gervaise, could very well go and do so, the latter
+went up in a fit of indignation with which her heart was almost
+bursting.
+
+When she reached their door she entered without knocking. Nothing had
+been changed since the night when the Lorilleuxs, at their first
+meeting had received her so ungraciously. The same strip of faded
+woolen stuff separated the room from the workshop, a lodging like a gun
+barrel, and which looked as though it had been built for an eel. Right
+at the back Lorilleux, leaning over his bench, was squeezing together
+one by one the links of a piece of chain, whilst Madame Lorilleux,
+standing in front of the vise was passing a gold wire through the
+draw-plate. In the broad daylight the little forge had a rosy
+reflection.
+
+“Yes, it’s I!” said Gervaise. “I daresay you’re surprised to see me as
+we’re at daggers drawn. But I’ve come neither for you nor myself you
+may be quite sure. It’s for mother Coupeau that I’ve come. Yes, I have
+come to see if we’re going to let her beg her bread from the charity of
+others.”
+
+“Ah, well, that’s a fine way to burst in upon one!” murmured Madame
+Lorilleux. “One must have a rare cheek.”
+
+And she turned her back and resumed drawing her gold wire, affecting to
+ignore her sister-in-law’s presence. But Lorilleux raised his pale face
+and cried:
+
+“What’s that you say?”
+
+Then, as he had heard perfectly well, he continued:
+
+“More back-bitings, eh? She’s nice, mother Coupeau, to go and cry
+starvation everywhere! Yet only the day before yesterday she dined
+here. We do what we can. We haven’t got all the gold of Peru. Only if
+she goes about gossiping with others she had better stay with them, for
+we don’t like spies.”
+
+He took up the piece of chain and turned his back also, adding as
+though with regret:
+
+“When everyone gives five francs a month, we’ll give five francs.”
+
+Gervaise had calmed down and felt quite chilled by the wooden looking
+faces of the Lorilleux. She had never once set foot in their rooms
+without experiencing a certain uneasiness. With her eyes fixed on the
+floor, staring at the holes of the wooden grating through which the
+waste gold fell she now explained herself in a reasonable manner.
+Mother Coupeau had three children; if each one gave five francs it
+would only make fifteen francs, and really that was not enough, one
+could not live on it; they must at least triple the sum. But Lorilleux
+cried out. Where did she think he could steal fifteen francs a month?
+It was quite amusing, people thought he was rich simply because he had
+gold in his place. He began then to criticize mother Coupeau: she had
+to have her morning coffee, she took a sip of brandy now and then, she
+was as demanding as if she were rich. _Mon Dieu!_ Sure, everyone liked
+the good things of life. But if you’ve never saved a sou, you had to do
+what other folks did and do without. Besides, mother Coupeau wasn’t too
+old to work. She could see well enough when she was trying to pick a
+choice morsel from the platter. She was just an old spendthrift trying
+to get others to provide her with comforts. Even had he had the means,
+he would have considered it wrong to support any one in idleness.
+
+Gervaise remained conciliatory, and peaceably argued against all this
+bad reasoning. She tried to soften the Lorilleuxs. But the husband
+ended by no longer answering her. The wife was now at the forge
+scouring a piece of chain in the little, long-handled brass saucepan
+full of lye-water. She still affectedly turned her back, as though a
+hundred leagues away. And Gervaise continued speaking, watching them
+pretending to be absorbed in their labor in the midst of the black dust
+of the workshop, their bodies distorted, their clothes patched and
+greasy, both become stupidly hardened like old tools in the pursuit of
+their narrow mechanical task. Then suddenly anger again got the better
+of her and she exclaimed:
+
+“Very well, I’d rather it was so; keep your money! I’ll give mother
+Coupeau a home, do you hear? I picked up a cat the other evening, so I
+can at least do the same for your mother. And she shall be in want of
+nothing; she shall have her coffee and her drop of brandy! Good
+heavens! what a vile family!”
+
+At these words Madame Lorilleux turned round. She brandished the
+saucepan as though she was about to throw the lye-water in her
+sister-in-law’s face. She stammered with rage:
+
+“Be off, or I shall do you an injury! And don’t count on the five
+francs because I won’t give a radish! No, not a radish! Ah well, yes,
+five francs! Mother would be your servant and you would enjoy yourself
+with my five francs! If she goes to live with you, tell her this, she
+may croak, I won’t even send her a glass of water. Now off you go!
+Clear out!”
+
+“What a monster of a woman!” said Gervaise violently slamming the door.
+
+On the morrow she brought mother Coupeau to live with her, putting her
+bed in the inner room where Nana slept. The moving did not take long,
+for all the furniture mother Coupeau had was her bed, an ancient walnut
+wardrobe which was put in the dirty-clothes room, a table, and two
+chairs. They sold the table and had the chairs recaned. From the very
+first the old lady took over the sweeping. She washed the dishes and
+made herself useful, happy to have settled her problem.
+
+The Lorilleux were furious enough to explode, especially since Madame
+Lerat was now back on good terms with the Coupeaus. One day the two
+sisters, the flower-maker and the chainmaker came to blows about
+Gervaise because Madame Lerat dared to express approval of the way she
+was taking care of their mother. When she noticed how this upset the
+other, she went on to remark that Gervaise had magnificent eyes, eyes
+warm enough to set paper on fire. The two of them commenced slapping
+each other and swore they never would see each other again. Nowadays
+Madame Lerat often spent her evenings in the shop, laughing to herself
+at Clemence’s spicy remarks.
+
+Three years passed by. There were frequent quarrels and
+reconciliations. Gervaise did not care a straw for the Lorilleux, the
+Boches and all the others who were not of her way of thinking. If they
+did not like it, they could forget it. She earned what she wished, that
+was her principal concern. The people of the neighborhood had ended by
+greatly esteeming her, for one did not find many customers so kind as
+she was, paying punctually, never caviling or higgling. She bought her
+bread of Madame Coudeloup, in the Rue des Poissonniers; her meat of
+stout Charles, a butcher in the Rue Polonceau; her groceries at
+Lehongre’s, in the Rue de la Goutte-d’Or, almost opposite her own shop.
+Francois, the wine merchant at the corner of the street, supplied her
+with wine in baskets of fifty bottles. Her neighbor Vigouroux, whose
+wife’s hips must have been black and blue, the men pinched her so much,
+sold coke to her at the same price as the gas company. And, in all
+truth, her tradespeople served her faithfully, knowing that there was
+everything to gain by treating her well.
+
+Besides, whenever she went out around the neighborhood, she was greeted
+everywhere. She felt quite at home. Sometimes she put off doing a
+laundry job just to enjoy being outdoors among her good friends. On
+days when she was too rushed to do her own cooking and had to go out to
+buy something already cooked, she would stop to gossip with her arms
+full of bowls. The neighbor she respected the most was still the
+watchmaker. Often she would cross the street to greet him in his tiny
+cupboard of a shop, taking pleasure in the gaiety of the little cuckoo
+clocks with their pendulums ticking away the hours in chorus.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VI.
+
+
+One afternoon in the autumn Gervaise, who had been taking some washing
+home to a customer in the Rue des Portes-Blanches, found herself at the
+bottom of the Rue des Poissonniers just as the day was declining. It
+had rained in the morning, the weather was very mild and an odor rose
+from the greasy pavement; and the laundress, burdened with her big
+basket, was rather out of breath, slow of step, and inclined to take
+her ease as she ascended the street with the vague preoccupation of a
+longing increased by her weariness. She would have liked to have had
+something to eat. Then, on raising her eyes she beheld the name of the
+Rue Marcadet, and she suddenly had the idea of going to see Goujet at
+his forge. He had no end of times told her to look in any day she was
+curious to see how iron was wrought. Besides in the presence of other
+workmen she would ask for Etienne, and make believe that she had merely
+called for the youngster.
+
+The factory was somewhere on this end of the Rue Marcadet, but she
+didn’t know exactly where and street numbers were often lacking on
+those ramshackle buildings separated by vacant lots. She wouldn’t have
+lived on this street for all the gold in the world. It was a wide
+street, but dirty, black with soot from factories, with holes in the
+pavement and deep ruts filled with stagnant water. On both sides were
+rows of sheds, workshops with beams and brickwork exposed so that they
+seemed unfinished, a messy collection of masonry. Beside them were
+dubious lodging houses and even more dubious taverns. All she could
+recall was that the bolt factory was next to a yard full of scrap iron
+and rags, a sort of open sewer spread over the ground, storing
+merchandise worth hundreds of thousands of francs, according to Goujet.
+
+The street was filled with a noisy racket. Exhaust pipes on roofs
+puffed out violent jets of steam; an automatic sawmill added a rhythmic
+screeching; a button factory shook the ground with the rumbling of its
+machines. She was looking up toward the Montmartre height, hesitant,
+uncertain whether to continue, when a gust of wind blew down a mass of
+sooty smoke that covered the entire street. She closed her eyes and
+held her breath. At that moment she heard the sound of hammers in
+cadence. Without realizing it, she had arrived directly in front of the
+bolt factory which she now recognized by the vacant lot beside it full
+of piles of scrap iron and old rags.
+
+She still hesitated, not knowing where to enter. A broken fence opened
+a passage which seemed to lead through the heaps of rubbish from some
+buildings recently pulled down. Two planks had been thrown across a
+large puddle of muddy water that barred the way. She ended by venturing
+along them, turned to the left and found herself lost in the depths of
+a strange forest of old carts, standing on end with their shafts in the
+air, and of hovels in ruins, the wood-work of which was still standing.
+Toward the back, stabbing through the half-light of sundown, a flame
+gleamed red. The clamor of the hammers had ceased. She was advancing
+carefully when a workman, his face blackened with coal-dust and wearing
+a goatee passed near her, casting a side-glance with his pale eyes.
+
+“Sir,” asked she, “it’s here is it not that a boy named Etienne works?
+He’s my son.”
+
+“Etienne, Etienne,” repeated the workman in a hoarse voice as he
+twisted himself about. “Etienne; no I don’t know him.”
+
+An alcoholic reek like that from old brandy casks issued from his
+mouth. Meeting a woman in this dark corner seemed to be giving the
+fellow ideas, and so Gervaise drew back saying:
+
+“But yet it’s here that Monsieur Goujet works, isn’t it?”
+
+“Ah! Goujet, yes!” said the workman; “I know Goujet! If you come for
+Goujet, go right to the end.”
+
+And turning round he called out at the top of his voice, which had a
+sound of cracked brass:
+
+“I say Golden-Mug, here’s a lady wants you!”
+
+But a clanging of iron drowned the cry! Gervaise went to the end. She
+reached a door and stretching out her neck looked in. At first she
+could distinguish nothing. The forge had died down, but there was still
+a little glow which held back the advancing shadows from its corner.
+Great shadows seemed to float in the air. At times black shapes passed
+before the fire, shutting off this last bit of brightness, silhouettes
+of men so strangely magnified that their arms and legs were indistinct.
+Gervaise, not daring to venture in, called from the doorway in a faint
+voice:
+
+“Monsieur Goujet! Monsieur Goujet!”
+
+Suddenly all became lighted up. Beneath the puff of the bellows a jet
+of white flame had ascended and the whole interior of the shed could be
+seen, walled in by wooden planks, with openings roughly plastered over,
+and brick walls reinforcing the corners. Coal-ash had painted the whole
+expanse a sooty grey. Spider webs hung from the beams like rags hung up
+to dry, heavy with the accumulated dust of years. On shelves along the
+walls, or hanging from nails, or tossed into corners, she saw rusty
+iron, battered implements and huge tools. The white flame flared
+higher, like an explosion of dazzling sunlight revealing the trampled
+dirt underfoot, where the polished steel of four anvils fixed on blocks
+took on a reflection of silver sprinkled with gold.
+
+Then Gervaise recognized Goujet in front of the forge by his beautiful
+yellow beard. Etienne was blowing the bellows. Two other workmen were
+there, but she only beheld Goujet and walked forward and stood before
+him.
+
+“Why it’s Madame Gervaise!” he exclaimed with a bright look on his
+face. “What a pleasant surprise.”
+
+But as his comrades appeared to be rather amused, he pushed Etienne
+towards his mother and resumed:
+
+“You’ve come to see the youngster. He behaves himself well, he’s
+beginning to get some strength in his wrists.”
+
+“Well!” she said, “it isn’t easy to find your way here. I thought I was
+going to the end of the world.”
+
+After telling about her journey, she asked why no one in the shop knew
+Etienne’s name. Goujet laughed and explained to her that everybody
+called him “Little Zouzou” because he had his hair cut short like that
+of a Zouave. While they were talking together Etienne stopped working
+the bellows and the flame of the forge dwindled to a rosy glow amid the
+gathering darkness. Touched by the presence of this smiling young
+woman, the blacksmith stood gazing at her.
+
+Then, as neither continued speaking, he seemed to recollect and broke
+the silence:
+
+“Excuse me, Madame Gervaise, I’ve something that has to be finished.
+You’ll stay, won’t you? You’re not in anybody’s way.”
+
+She remained. Etienne returned to the bellows. The forge was soon
+ablaze again with a cloud of sparks; the more so as the youngster,
+wanting to show his mother what he could do, was making the bellows
+blow a regular hurricane. Goujet, standing up watching a bar of iron
+heating, was waiting with the tongs in his hand. The bright glare
+illuminated him without a shadow—sleeves rolled back, shirt neck open,
+bare arms and chest. When the bar was at white heat he seized it with
+the tongs and cut it with a hammer on the anvil, in pieces of equal
+length, as though he had been gently breaking pieces of glass. Then he
+put the pieces back into the fire, from which he took them one by one
+to work them into shape. He was forging hexagonal rivets. He placed
+each piece in a tool-hole of the anvil, bent down the iron that was to
+form the head, flattened the six sides and threw the finished rivet
+still red-hot on to the black earth, where its bright light gradually
+died out; and this with a continuous hammering, wielding in his right
+hand a hammer weighing five pounds, completing a detail at every blow,
+turning and working the iron with such dexterity that he was able to
+talk to and look at those about him. The anvil had a silvery ring.
+Without a drop of perspiration, quite at his ease, he struck in a
+good-natured sort of a way, not appearing to exert himself more than on
+the evenings when he cut out pictures at home.
+
+“Oh! these are little rivets of twenty millimetres,” said he in reply
+to Gervaise’s questions. “A fellow can do his three hundred a day. But
+it requires practice, for one’s arm soon grows weary.”
+
+And when she asked him if his wrist did not feel stiff at the end of
+the day he laughed aloud. Did she think him a young lady? His wrist had
+had plenty of drudgery for fifteen years past; it was now as strong as
+the iron implements it had been so long in contact with. She was right
+though; a gentleman who had never forged a rivet or a bolt, and who
+would try to show off with his five pound hammer, would find himself
+precious stiff in the course of a couple of hours. It did not seem
+much, but a few years of it often did for some very strong fellows.
+During this conversation the other workmen were also hammering away all
+together. Their tall shadows danced about in the light, the red flashes
+of the iron that the fire traversed, the gloomy recesses, clouds of
+sparks darted out from beneath the hammers and shone like suns on a
+level with the anvils. And Gervaise, feeling happy and interested in
+the movement round the forge, did not think of leaving. She was going a
+long way round to get nearer to Etienne without having her hands burnt,
+when she saw the dirty and bearded workman, whom she had spoken to
+outside, enter.
+
+“So you’ve found him, madame?” asked he in his drunken bantering way.
+“You know, Golden-Mug, it’s I who told madame where to find you.”
+
+He was called Salted-Mouth, otherwise Drink-without-Thirst, the brick
+of bricks, a dab hand at bolt forging, who wetted his iron every day
+with a pint and a half of brandy. He had gone out to have a drop,
+because he felt he wanted greasing to make him last till six o’clock.
+When he learnt that Little Zouzou’s real name was Etienne, he thought
+it very funny; and he showed his black teeth as he laughed. Then he
+recognized Gervaise. Only the day before he had had a glass of wine
+with Coupeau. You could speak to Coupeau about Salted-Mouth, otherwise
+Drink-without-Thirst; he would at once say: “He’s a jolly dog!” Ah!
+that joker Coupeau! He was one of the right sort; he stood treat
+oftener than his turn.
+
+“I’m awfully glad to know you’re his missus,” added he.
+
+“He deserves to have a pretty wife. Eh, Golden-Mug, madame is a fine
+woman, isn’t she?”
+
+He was becoming quite gallant, sidling up towards the laundress, who
+took hold of her basket and held it in front of her so as to keep him
+at a distance. Goujet, annoyed and seeing that his comrade was joking
+because of his friendship for Gervaise, called out to him:
+
+“I say, lazybones, what about the forty millimetre bolts? Do you think
+you’re equal to them now that you’ve got your gullet full, you
+confounded guzzler?”
+
+The blacksmith was alluding to an order for big bolts which
+necessitated two beaters at the anvil.
+
+“I’m ready to start at this moment, big baby!” replied Salted-Mouth,
+otherwise Drink-without-Thirst. “It sucks it’s thumb and thinks itself
+a man. In spite of your size I’m equal to you!”
+
+“Yes, that’s it, at once. Look sharp and off we go!”
+
+“Right you are, my boy!”
+
+They taunted each other, stimulated by Gervaise’s presence. Goujet
+placed the pieces of iron that had been cut beforehand in the fire,
+then he fixed a tool-hole of large bore on an anvil. His comrade had
+taken from against the wall two sledge-hammers weighing twenty pounds
+each, the two big sisters of the factory whom the workers called Fifine
+and Dedele. And he continued to brag, talking of a half-gross of rivets
+which he had forged for the Dunkirk lighthouse, regular jewels, things
+to be put in a museum, they were so daintily finished off. Hang it all,
+no! he did not fear competition; before meeting with another chap like
+him, you might search every factory in the capital. They were going to
+have a laugh; they would see what they would see.
+
+“Madame will be judge,” said he, turning towards the young woman.
+
+“Enough chattering,” cried Goujet. “Now then, Zouzou, show your muscle!
+It’s not hot enough, my lad.”
+
+But Salted-Mouth, otherwise Drink-without-Thirst, asked: “So we strike
+together?”
+
+“Not a bit of it! each his own bolt, my friend!”
+
+This statement operated as a damper, and Goujet’s comrade, on hearing
+it, remained speechless, in spite of his boasting. Bolts of forty
+millimetres fashioned by one man had never before been seen; the more
+so as the bolts were to be round-headed, a work of great difficulty, a
+real masterpiece to achieve.
+
+The three other workmen came over, leaving their jobs, to watch. A
+tall, lean one wagered a bottle of wine that Goujet would be beaten.
+Meanwhile the two blacksmiths had chosen their sledge hammers with eyes
+closed, because Fifine weighed a half pound more than Dedele.
+Salted-Mouth, otherwise Drink-without-Thirst, had the good luck to put
+his hand on Dedele; Fifine fell to Golden-Mug.
+
+While waiting for the iron to get hot enough, Salted-Mouth, otherwise
+Drink-without-Thirst, again showing off, struck a pose before the anvil
+while casting side glances toward Gervaise. He planted himself solidly,
+tapping his feet impatiently like a man ready for a fight, throwing all
+his strength into practice swings with Dedele. _Mon Dieu!_ He was good
+at this; he could have flattened the Vendome column like a pancake.
+
+“Now then, off you go!” said Goujet, placing one of the pieces of iron,
+as thick as a girl’s wrist, in the tool-hole.
+
+Salted-Mouth, otherwise Drink-without-Thirst, leant back, and swung
+Dedele round with both hands. Short and lean, with his goatee
+bristling, and with his wolf-like eyes glaring beneath his unkempt
+hair, he seemed to snap at each swing of the hammer, springing up from
+the ground as though carried away by the force he put into the blow. He
+was a fierce one, who fought with the iron, annoyed at finding it so
+hard, and he even gave a grunt whenever he thought he had planted a
+fierce stroke. Perhaps brandy did weaken other people’s arms, but he
+needed brandy in his veins, instead of blood. The drop he had taken a
+little while before had made his carcass as warm as a boiler; he felt
+he had the power of a steam-engine within him. And the iron seemed to
+be afraid of him this time; he flattened it more easily than if it had
+been a quid of tobacco. And it was a sight to see how Dedele waltzed!
+She cut such capers, with her tootsies in the air, just like a little
+dancer at the Elysee Montmartre, who exhibits her fine underclothes;
+for it would never do to dawdle, iron is so deceitful, it cools at
+once, just to spite the hammer. With thirty blows, Salted-Mouth,
+otherwise Drink-without-Thirst, had fashioned the head of his bolt. But
+he panted, his eyes were half out of his head, and got into a great
+rage as he felt his arms growing tired. Then, carried away by wrath,
+jumping about and yelling, he gave two more blows, just out of revenge
+for his trouble. When he took the bolt from the hole, it was deformed,
+its head being askew like a hunchback’s.
+
+“Come now! Isn’t that quickly beaten into shape?” said he all the same,
+with his self-confidence, as he presented his work to Gervaise.
+
+“I’m no judge, sir,” replied the laundress, reservedly.
+
+But she saw plainly enough the marks of Dedele’s last two kicks on the
+bolt, and she was very pleased. She bit her lips so as not to laugh,
+for now Goujet had every chance of winning.
+
+It was now Golden-Mug’s turn. Before commencing, he gave the laundress
+a look full of confident tenderness. Then he did not hurry himself. He
+measured his distance, and swung the hammer from on high with all his
+might and at regular intervals. He had the classic style, accurate,
+evenly balanced, and supple. Fifine, in his hands, did not cut capers,
+like at a dance-hall, but made steady, certain progress; she rose and
+fell in cadence, like a lady of quality solemnly leading some ancient
+minuet.
+
+There was no brandy in Golden-Mug’s veins, only blood, throbbing
+powerfully even into Fifine and controlling the job. That stalwart
+fellow! What a magnificent man he was at work. The high flame of the
+forge shone full on his face. His whole face seemed golden indeed with
+his short hair curling over his forehead and his splendid yellow beard.
+His neck was as straight as a column and his immense chest was wide
+enough for a woman to sleep across it. His shoulders and sculptured
+arms seemed to have been copied from a giant’s statue in some museum.
+You could see his muscles swelling, mountains of flesh rippling and
+hardening under the skin; his shoulders, his chest, his neck expanded;
+he seemed to shed light about him, becoming beautiful and all-powerful
+like a kindly god.
+
+He had now swung Fifine twenty times, his eyes always fixed on the
+iron, drawing a deep breath with each blow, yet showing only two great
+drops of sweat trickling down from his temples. He counted:
+“Twenty-one, twenty-two, twenty-three—” Calmly Fifine continued, like a
+noble lady dancing.
+
+“What a show-off!” jeeringly murmured Salted-Mouth, otherwise
+Drink-without-Thirst.
+
+Gervaise, standing opposite Goujet, looked at him with an affectionate
+smile. _Mon Dieu!_ What fools men are! Here these two men were,
+pounding on their bolts to pay court to her. She understood it. They
+were battling with hammer blows, like two big red roosters vying for
+the favors of a little white hen. Sometimes the human heart has
+fantastic ways of expressing itself. This thundering of Dedele and
+Fifine upon the anvil was for her, this forge roaring and overflowing
+was for her. They were forging their love before her, battling over
+her.
+
+To be honest, she rather enjoyed it. All women are happy to receive
+compliments. The mighty blows of Golden-Mug found echoes in her heart;
+they rang within her, a crystal-clear music in time with the throbbing
+of her pulse. She had the feeling that this hammering was driving
+something deep inside of her, something solid, something hard as the
+iron of the bolt.
+
+She had no doubt Goujet would win. Salted-Mouth, otherwise
+Drink-without-Thirst, was much too ugly in his dirty tunic, jumping
+around like a monkey that had escaped from a zoo. She waited, blushing
+red, happy that the heat could explain the blush.
+
+Goujet was still counting.
+
+“And twenty-eight!” cried he at length, laying the hammer on the
+ground. “It’s finished; you can look.”
+
+The head of the bolt was clean, polished, and without a flaw, regular
+goldsmith’s work, with the roundness of a marble cast in a mold. The
+other men looked at it and nodded their heads; there was no denying it
+was lovely enough to be worshipped. Salted-Mouth, otherwise
+Drink-without-Thirst, tried indeed to chuff; but it was no use, and
+ended by returning to his anvil, with his nose put out of joint.
+Gervaise had squeezed up against Goujet, as though to get a better
+view. Etienne having let go the bellows, the forge was once more
+becoming enveloped in shadow, like a brilliant red sunset suddenly
+giving way to black night. And the blacksmith and the laundress
+experienced a sweet pleasure in feeling this gloom surround them in
+that shed black with soot and filings, and where an odor of old iron
+prevailed. They could not have thought themselves more alone in the
+Bois de Vincennes had they met there in the depths of some copse. He
+took her hand as though he had conquered her.
+
+Outside, they scarcely exchanged a word. All he could find to say was
+that she might have taken Etienne away with her, had it not been that
+there was still another half-hour’s work to get through. When she
+started away he called her back, wanting a few more minutes with her.
+
+“Come along. You haven’t seen all the place. It’s quite interesting.”
+
+He led her to another shed where the owner was installing a new
+machine. She hesitated in the doorway, oppressed by an instinctive
+dread. The great hall was vibrating from the machines and black shadows
+filled the air. He reassured her with a smile, swearing that there was
+nothing to fear, only she should be careful not to let her skirts get
+caught in any of the gears. He went first and she followed into the
+deafening hubbub of whistling, amid clouds of steam peopled by human
+shadows moving busily.
+
+The passages were very narrow and there were obstacles to step over,
+holes to avoid, passing carts to move back from. She couldn’t
+distinguish anything clearly or hear what Goujet was saying.
+
+Gervaise looked up and stopped to stare at the leather belts hanging
+from the roof in a gigantic spider web, each strip ceaselessly
+revolving. The steam engine that drove them was hidden behind a low
+brick wall so that the belts seemed to be moving by themselves. She
+stumbled and almost fell while looking up.
+
+Goujet raised his voice with explanations. There were the tapping
+machines operated by women, which put threads on bolts and nuts. Their
+steel gears were shining with oil. She could follow the entire process.
+She nodded her head and smiled.
+
+She was still a little tense, however, feeling uneasy at being so small
+among these rough metalworkers. She jumped back more than once, her
+blood suddenly chilled by the dull thud of a machine.
+
+Goujet had stopped before one of the rivet machines. He stood there
+brooding, his head lowered, his gaze fixed. This machine forged forty
+millimetre rivets with the calm ease of a giant. Nothing could be
+simpler. The stoker took the iron shank from the furnace; the striker
+put it into the socket, where a continuous stream of water cooled it to
+prevent softening of the steel. The press descended and the bolt flew
+out onto the ground, its head as round as though cast in a mold. Every
+twelve hours this machine made hundreds of kilograms of bolts!
+
+Goujet was not a mean person, but there were moments when he wanted to
+take Fifine and smash this machine to bits because he was angry to see
+that its arms were stronger than his own. He reasoned with himself,
+telling himself that human flesh cannot compete with steel. But he was
+still deeply hurt. The day would come when machinery would destroy the
+skilled worker. Their day’s pay had already fallen from twelve francs
+to nine francs. There was talk of cutting it again. He stared at it,
+frowning, for three minutes without saying a word. His yellow beard
+seemed to bristle defiantly. Then, gradually an expression of
+resignation came over his face and he turned toward Gervaise who was
+clinging tightly to him and said with a sad smile:
+
+“Well! That machine would certainly win a contest. But perhaps it will
+be for the good of mankind in the long run.”
+
+Gervaise didn’t care a bit about the welfare of mankind. Smiling, she
+said to Goujet:
+
+“I like yours better, because they show the hand of an artist.”
+
+Hearing this gave him great happiness because he had been afraid that
+she might be scornful of him after seeing the machines. _Mon Dieu!_ He
+might be stronger than Salted-Mouth, otherwise Drink-without-Thirst,
+but the machines were stronger yet. When Gervaise finally took her
+leave, Goujet was so happy that he almost crushed her with a hug.
+
+The laundress went every Saturday to the Goujets to deliver their
+washing. They still lived in the little house in the Rue Neuve de la
+Goutte-d’Or. During the first year she had regularly repaid them twenty
+francs a month; so as not to jumble up the accounts, the washing-book
+was only made up at the end of each month, and then she added to the
+amount whatever sum was necessary to make the twenty francs, for the
+Goujets’ washing rarely came to more than seven or eight francs during
+that time. She had therefore paid off nearly half the sum owing, when
+one quarter day, not knowing what to do, some of her customers not
+having kept their promises, she had been obliged to go to the Goujets
+and borrow from them sufficient for her rent. On two other occasions
+she had also applied to them for the money to pay her workwomen, so
+that the debt had increased again to four hundred and twenty-five
+francs. Now, she no longer gave a halfpenny; she worked off the amount
+solely by the washing. It was not that she worked less, or that her
+business was not so prosperous. But something was going wrong in her
+home; the money seemed to melt away, and she was glad when she was able
+to make both ends meet. _Mon Dieu!_ What’s the use of complaining as
+long as one gets by. She was putting on weight and this caused her to
+become a bit lazy. She no longer had the energy that she had in the
+past. Oh well, there was always something coming in.
+
+Madame Goujet felt a motherly concern for Gervaise and sometimes
+reprimanded her. This wasn’t due to the money owed but because she
+liked her and didn’t want to see her get into difficulties. She never
+mentioned the debt. In short, she behaved with the utmost delicacy.
+
+The morrow of Gervaise’s visit to the forge happened to be the last
+Saturday of the month. When she reached the Goujets, where she made a
+point of going herself, her basket had so weighed on her arms that she
+was quite two minutes before she could get her breath. One would hardly
+believe how heavy clothes are, especially when there are sheets among
+them.
+
+“Are you sure you’ve brought everything?” asked Madame Goujet.
+
+She was very strict on that point. She insisted on having her washing
+brought home without a single article being kept back for the sake of
+order, as she said. She also required the laundress always to come on
+the day arranged and at the same hour; in that way there was no time
+wasted.
+
+“Oh! yes, everything is here,” replied Gervaise smiling. “You know I
+never leave anything behind.”
+
+“That’s true,” admitted Madame Goujet; “you’ve got into many bad habits
+but you’re still free of that one.”
+
+And while the laundress emptied her basket, laying the linen on the
+bed, the old woman praised her; she never burnt the things nor tore
+them like so many others did, neither did she pull the buttons off with
+the iron; only she used too much blue and made the shirt-fronts too
+stiff with starch.
+
+“Just look, it’s like cardboard,” continued she, making one crackle
+between her fingers. “My son does not complain, but it cuts his neck.
+To-morrow his neck will be all scratched when we return from
+Vincennes.”
+
+“No, don’t say that!” exclaimed Gervaise, quite grieved. “To look nice,
+shirts must be rather stiff, otherwise it’s as though one had a rag on
+one’s body. You should just see what the gentlemen wear. I do all your
+things myself. The workwomen never touch them and I assure you I take
+great pains. I would, if necessary, do everything over a dozen times,
+because it’s for you, you know.”
+
+She slightly blushed as she stammered out the last words. She was
+afraid of showing the great pleasure she took in ironing Goujet’s
+shirts. She certainly had no wicked thoughts, but she was none the less
+a little bit ashamed.
+
+“Oh! I’m not complaining of your work; I know it’s perfection,” said
+Madame Goujet. “For instance, you’ve done this cap splendidly, only you
+could bring out the embroidery like that. And the flutings are all so
+even. Oh! I recognize your hand at once. When you give even a
+dish-cloth to one of your workwomen I detect it at once. In future, use
+a little less starch, that’s all! Goujet does not care to look like a
+stylish gentleman.”
+
+She had taken out her notebook and was crossing off the various items.
+Everything was in order. She noticed that Gervaise was charging six
+sous for each bonnet. She protested, but had to agree that it was in
+line with present prices. Men’s shirts were five sous, women’s
+underdrawers four sous, pillow-cases a sou and a half, and aprons one
+sou. No, the prices weren’t high. Some laundresses charged a sou more
+for each item.
+
+Gervaise was now calling out the soiled clothes, as she packed them in
+her basket, for Madame Goujet to list. Then she lingered on,
+embarrassed by a request which she wished to make.
+
+“Madame Goujet,” she said at length, “if it does not inconvenience you,
+I would like to take the money for the month’s washing.”
+
+It so happened that that month was a very heavy one, the account they
+had made up together amounting to ten francs, seven sous. Madame Goujet
+looked at her a moment in a serious manner, then she replied:
+
+“My child, it shall be as you wish. I will not refuse you the money as
+you are in need of it. Only it’s scarcely the way to pay off your debt;
+I say that for your sake, you know. Really now, you should be careful.”
+
+Gervaise received the lecture with bowed head and stammering excuses.
+The ten francs were to make up the amount of a bill she had given her
+coke merchant. But on hearing the word “bill,” Madame Goujet became
+severer still. She gave herself as an example; she had reduced her
+expenditure ever since Goujet’s wages had been lowered from twelve to
+nine francs a day. When one was wanting in wisdom whilst young, one
+dies of hunger in one’s old age. But she held back and didn’t tell
+Gervaise that she gave her their laundry only in order to help her pay
+off the debt. Before that she had done all her own washing, and she
+would have to do it herself again if the laundry continued taking so
+much cash out of her pocket. Gervaise spoke her thanks and left quickly
+as soon as she had received the ten francs seven sous. Outside on the
+landing she was so relieved she wanted to dance. She was becoming used
+to the annoying, unpleasant difficulties caused by a shortage of money
+and preferred to remember not the embarrassment but the joy in escaping
+from them.
+
+It was also on that Saturday that Gervaise met with a rather strange
+adventure as she descended the Goujets’ staircase. She was obliged to
+stand up close against the stair-rail with her basket to make way for a
+tall bare-headed woman who was coming up, carrying in her hand a very
+fresh mackerel, with bloody gills, in a piece of paper. She recognized
+Virginie, the girl whose face she had slapped at the wash-house. They
+looked each other full in the face. Gervaise shut her eyes. She thought
+for a moment that she was going to be hit in the face with the fish.
+But no, Virginie even smiled slightly. Then, as her basket was blocking
+the staircase, the laundress wished to show how polite she, too, could
+be.
+
+“I beg your pardon,” she said.
+
+“You are completely excused,” replied the tall brunette.
+
+And they remained conversing together on the stairs, reconciled at once
+without having ventured on a single allusion to the past. Virginie,
+then twenty-nine years old, had become a superb woman of strapping
+proportions, her face, however, looking rather long between her two
+plaits of jet black hair. She at once began to relate her history just
+to show off. She had a husband now; she had married in the spring an
+ex-journeyman cabinetmaker, who recently left the army, and who had
+applied to be admitted into the police, because a post of that kind is
+more to be depended upon and more respectable. She had been out to buy
+the mackerel for him.
+
+“He adores mackerel,” said she. “We must spoil them, those naughty men,
+mustn’t we? But come up. You shall see our home. We are standing in a
+draught here.”
+
+After Gervaise had told of her own marriage and that she had formerly
+occupied the very apartment Virginie now had, Virginie urged her even
+more strongly to come up since it is always nice to visit a spot where
+one had been happy.
+
+Virginie had lived for five years on the Left Bank at Gros-Caillou.
+That was where she had met her husband while he was still in the army.
+But she got tired of it, and wanted to come back to the Goutte-d’Or
+neighborhood where she knew everyone. She had only been living in the
+rooms opposite the Goujets for two weeks. Oh! everything was still a
+mess, but they were slowly getting it in order.
+
+Then, still on the staircase, they finally told each other their names.
+
+“Madame Coupeau.”
+
+“Madame Poisson.”
+
+And from that time forth, they called each other on every possible
+occasion Madame Poisson and Madame Coupeau, solely for the pleasure of
+being madame, they who in former days had been acquainted when
+occupying rather questionable positions. However, Gervaise felt rather
+mistrustful at heart. Perhaps the tall brunette had made it up the
+better to avenge herself for the beating at the wash-house by
+concocting some plan worthy of a spiteful hypocritical creature.
+Gervaise determined to be upon her guard. For the time being, as
+Virginie behaved so nicely, she would be nice also.
+
+In the room upstairs, Poisson, the husband, a man of thirty-five, with
+a cadaverous-looking countenance and carroty moustaches and beard, was
+seated working at a table near the window. He was making little boxes.
+His only tools were a knife, a tiny saw the size of a nail file and a
+pot of glue. He was using wood from old cigar boxes, thin boards of
+unfinished mahogany upon which he executed fretwork and embellishments
+of extraordinary delicacy. All year long he worked at making the same
+size boxes, only varying them occasionally by inlay work, new designs
+for the cover, or putting compartments inside. He did not sell his
+work, he distributed it in presents to persons of his acquaintance. It
+was for his own amusement, a way of occupying his time while waiting
+for his appointment to the police force. It was all that remained with
+him from his former occupation of cabinetmaking.
+
+Poisson rose from his seat and politely bowed to Gervaise, when his
+wife introduced her as an old friend. But he was no talker; he at once
+returned to his little saw. From time to time he merely glanced in the
+direction of the mackerel placed on the corner of the chest of drawers.
+Gervaise was very pleased to see her old lodging once more. She told
+them whereabouts her own furniture stood, and pointed out the place on
+the floor where Nana had been born. How strange it was to meet like
+this again, after so many years! They never dreamed of running into
+each other like this and even living in the same rooms.
+
+Virginie added some further details. Her husband had inherited a little
+money from an aunt and he would probably set her up in a shop before
+long. Meanwhile she was still sewing. At length, at the end of a full
+half hour, the laundress took her leave. Poisson scarcely seemed to
+notice her departure. While seeing her to the door, Virginie promised
+to return the visit. And she would have Gervaise do her laundry. While
+Virginie was keeping her in further conversation on the landing,
+Gervaise had the feeling that she wanted to say something about Lantier
+and her sister Adele, and this notion upset her a bit. But not a word
+was uttered respecting those unpleasant things; they parted, wishing
+each other good-bye in a very amiable manner.
+
+“Good-bye, Madame Coupeau.”
+
+“Good-bye, Madame Poisson.”
+
+That was the starting point of a great friendship. A week later,
+Virginie never passed Gervaise’s shop without going in; and she
+remained there gossiping for hours together, to such an extent indeed
+that Poisson, filled with anxiety, fearing she had been run over, would
+come and seek her with his expressionless and death-like countenance.
+Now that she was seeing the dressmaker every day Gervaise became aware
+of a strange obsession. Every time Virginie began to talk Gervaise had
+the feeling Lantier was going to be mentioned. So she had Lantier on
+her mind throughout all of Virginie’s visits. This was silly because,
+in fact, she didn’t care a bit about Lantier or Adele at this time. She
+was quite certain that she had no curiosity as to what had happened to
+either of them. But this obsession got hold of her in spite of herself.
+Anyway, she didn’t hold it against Virginie, it wasn’t her fault,
+surely. She enjoyed being with her and looked forward to her visits.
+
+Meanwhile winter had come, the Coupeaus’ fourth winter in the Rue de la
+Goutte-d’Or. December and January were particularly cold. It froze hard
+as it well could. After New Year’s day the snow remained three weeks
+without melting. It did not interfere with work, but the contrary, for
+winter is the best season for the ironers. It was very pleasant inside
+the shop! There was never any ice on the window-panes like there was at
+the grocer’s and the hosier’s opposite. The stove was always stuffed
+with coke and kept things as hot as a Turkish bath. With the laundry
+steaming overhead you could almost imagine it was summer. You were
+quite comfortable with the doors closed and so much warmth everywhere
+that you were tempted to doze off with your eyes open. Gervaise laughed
+and said it reminded her of summer in the country. The street traffic
+made no noise in the snow and you could hardly hear the pedestrians who
+passed by. Only children’s voices were heard in the silence, especially
+the noisy band of urchins who had made a long slide in the gutter near
+the blacksmith’s shop.
+
+Gervaise would sometimes go over to the door, wipe the moisture from
+one of the panes with her hand, and look out to see what was happening
+to her neighborhood due to this extraordinary cold spell. Not one nose
+was being poked out of the adjacent shops. The entire neighborhood was
+muffled in snow. The only person she was able to exchange nods with was
+the coal-dealer next door, who still walked out bare-headed despite the
+severe freeze.
+
+What was especially enjoyable in this awful weather was to have some
+nice hot coffee in the middle of the day. The workwomen had no cause
+for complaint. The mistress made it very strong and without a grain of
+chicory. It was quite different to Madame Fauconnier’s coffee, which
+was like ditch-water. Only whenever mother Coupeau undertook to make
+it, it was always an interminable time before it was ready, because she
+would fall asleep over the kettle. On these occasions, when the
+workwomen had finished their lunch, they would do a little ironing
+whilst waiting for the coffee.
+
+It so happened that on the morrow of Twelfth-day half-past twelve
+struck and still the coffee was not ready. It seemed to persist in
+declining to pass through the strainer. Mother Coupeau tapped against
+the pot with a tea-spoon; and one could hear the drops falling slowly,
+one by one, and without hurrying themselves any the more.
+
+“Leave it alone,” said tall Clemence; “you’ll make it thick. To-day
+there’ll be as much to eat as to drink.”
+
+Tall Clemence was working on a man’s shirt, the plaits of which she
+separated with her finger-nail. She had caught a cold, her eyes were
+frightfully swollen and her chest was shaken with fits of coughing,
+which doubled her up beside the work-table. With all that she had not
+even a handkerchief round her neck and she was dressed in some cheap
+flimsy woolen stuff in which she shivered. Close by, Madame Putois,
+wrapped up in flannel muffled up to her ears, was ironing a petticoat
+which she turned round the skirt-board, the narrow end of which rested
+on the back of a chair; whilst a sheet laid on the floor prevented the
+petticoat from getting dirty as it trailed along the tiles. Gervaise
+alone occupied half the work-table with some embroidered muslin
+curtains, over which she passed her iron in a straight line with her
+arms stretched out to avoid making any creases. All on a sudden the
+coffee running through noisily caused her to raise her head. It was
+that squint-eyed Augustine who had just given it an outlet by thrusting
+a spoon through the strainer.
+
+“Leave it alone!” cried Gervaise. “Whatever is the matter with you?
+It’ll be like drinking mud now.”
+
+Mother Coupeau had placed five glasses on a corner of the work-table
+that was free. The women now left their work. The mistress always
+poured out the coffee herself after putting two lumps of sugar into
+each glass. It was the moment that they all looked forward to. On this
+occasion, as each one took her glass and squatted down on a little
+stool in front of the stove, the shop-door opened. Virginie entered,
+shivering all over.
+
+“Ah, my children,” said she, “it cuts you in two! I can no longer feel
+my ears. The cold is something awful!”
+
+“Why, it’s Madame Poisson!” exclaimed Gervaise. “Ah, well! You’ve come
+at the right time. You must have some coffee with us.”
+
+“On my word, I can’t say no. One feels the frost in one’s bones merely
+by crossing the street.”
+
+There was still some coffee left, luckily. Mother Coupeau went and
+fetched a sixth glass, and Gervaise let Virginie help herself to sugar
+out of politeness. The workwomen moved to give Virginie a small space
+close to the stove. Her nose was very red, she shivered a bit, pressing
+her hands which were stiff with cold around the glass to warm them. She
+had just come from the grocery store where you froze to death waiting
+for a quarter-pound of cheese and so she raved about the warmth of the
+shop. It felt so good on one’s skin. After warming up, she stretched
+out her long legs and the six of them relaxed together, supping their
+coffee slowly, surround by all the work still to be done. Mother
+Coupeau and Virginie were the only ones on chairs, the others, on low
+benches, seemed to be sitting on the floor. Squint-eyed Augustine had
+pulled over a corner of the cloth below the skirt, stretching herself
+out on it.
+
+No one spoke at first; all kept their noses in their glasses, enjoying
+their coffee.
+
+“It’s not bad, all the same,” declared Clemence.
+
+But she was seized with a fit of coughing, and almost choked. She leant
+her head against the wall to cough with more force.
+
+“That’s a bad cough you’ve got,” said Virginie. “Wherever did you catch
+it?”
+
+“One never knows!” replied Clemence, wiping her face with her sleeve.
+“It must have been the other night. There were two girls who were
+flaying each other outside the ‘Grand-Balcony.’ I wanted to see, so I
+stood there whilst the snow was falling. Ah, what a drubbing! It was
+enough to make one die with laughing. One had her nose almost pulled
+off; the blood streamed on the ground. When the other, a great long
+stick like me, saw the blood, she slipped away as quick as she could.
+And I coughed nearly all night. Besides that too, men are so stupid in
+bed, they don’t let you have any covers over you half the time.”
+
+“Pretty conduct that,” murmured Madame Putois. “You’re killing
+yourself, my girl.”
+
+“And if it pleases me to kill myself! Life isn’t so very amusing.
+Slaving all the blessed day long to earn fifty-five sous, cooking one’s
+blood from morning to night in front of the stove; no, you know, I’ve
+had enough of it! All the same though, this cough won’t do me the
+service of making me croak. It’ll go off the same way it came.”
+
+A short silence ensued. The good-for-nothing Clemence, who led riots in
+low dancing establishments, and shrieked like a screech-owl at work,
+always saddened everyone with her thoughts of death. Gervaise knew her
+well, and so merely said:
+
+“You’re never very gay the morning after a night of high living.”
+
+The truth was that Gervaise did not like this talk about women
+fighting. Because of the flogging at the wash-house it annoyed her
+whenever anyone spoke before her and Virginie of kicks with wooden
+shoes and of slaps in the face. It so happened, too, that Virginie was
+looking at her and smiling.
+
+“By the way,” she said quietly, “yesterday I saw some hair-pulling.
+They almost tore each other to pieces.”
+
+“Who were they?” Madame Putois inquired.
+
+“The midwife and her maid, you know, a little blonde. What a pest the
+girl is! She was yelling at her employer that she had got rid of a
+child for the fruit woman and that she was going to tell the police if
+she wasn’t paid to keep quiet. So the midwife slapped her right in the
+face and then the little blonde jumped on her and started scratching
+her and pulling her hair, really—by the roots. The sausage-man had to
+grab her to put a stop to it.”
+
+The workwomen laughed. Then they all took a sip of coffee.
+
+“Do you believe that she really got rid of a child?” Clemence asked.
+
+“Oh, yes! The rumor was all round the neighborhood,” Virginie answered.
+“I didn’t see it myself, you understand, but it’s part of the job. All
+midwives do it.”
+
+“Well!” exclaimed Madame Putois. “You have to be pretty stupid to put
+yourself in their hands. No thanks, you could be maimed for life. But
+there’s a sure way to do it. Drink a glass of holy water every evening
+and make the sign of the cross three times over your stomach with your
+thumb. Then your troubles will be over.”
+
+Everyone thought mother Coupeau was asleep, but she shook her head in
+protest. She knew another way and it was infallible. You had to eat a
+hard-cooked egg every two hours, and put spinach leaves on your loins.
+Squint-eyed Augustine set up a hen-cackling when she heard this. They
+had forgotten about her. Gervaise lifted up the petticoat that was
+being ironed and found her rolling on the floor with laughter. She
+jerked her upright. What was she laughing about? Was it right for her
+to be eavesdropping when older people were talking, the little goose?
+Anyway it was time for her to deliver the laundry to a friend of Madame
+Lerat at Les Batignolles. So Gervaise hung a basket on her arm and
+pushed her toward the door. Augustine went off, sobbing and sniveling,
+dragging her feet in the snow.
+
+Meanwhile mother Coupeau, Madame Putois and Clemence were discussing
+the effectiveness of hard-cooked eggs and spinach leaves. Then Virginie
+said softly:
+
+“_Mon Dieu!_ you have a fight, and then you make it up, if you have a
+generous heart.” She leaned toward Gervaise with a smile and added,
+“Really, I don’t hold any grudge against you for that business at the
+wash-house. You remember it, don’t you?”
+
+This was what Gervaise had been dreading. She guessed that the subject
+of Lantier and Adele would now come up.
+
+Virginie had moved close to Gervaise so as not to be overheard by the
+others. Gervaise, lulled by the excessive heat, felt so limp that she
+couldn’t even summon the willpower to change the subject. She foresaw
+what the tall brunette would say and her heart was stirred with an
+emotion which she didn’t want to admit to herself.
+
+“I hope I’m not hurting your feelings,” Virginie continued. “Often I’ve
+had it on the tip of my tongue. But since we are now on the subject,
+word of honor, I don’t have any grudge against you.”
+
+She stirred her remaining coffee and then took a small sip. Gervaise,
+with her heart in her throat, wondered if Virginie had really forgiven
+her as completely as she said, for she seemed to observe sparks in her
+dark eyes.
+
+“You see,” Virginie went on, “you had an excuse. They played a really
+rotten, dirty trick on you. To be fair about it, if it had been me, I’d
+have taken a knife to her.”
+
+She drank another small sip, then added rapidly without a pause:
+
+“Anyway, it didn’t bring them happiness, _mon Dieu_! Not a bit of it.
+They went to live over at La Glaciere, in a filthy street that was
+always muddy. I went two days later to have lunch with them. I can tell
+you, it was quite a trip by bus. Well, I found them already fighting.
+Really, as I came in they were boxing each other’s ears. Fine pair of
+love birds! Adele isn’t worth the rope to hang her. I say that even if
+she is my own sister. It would take too long to relate all the nasty
+tricks she played on me, and anyhow, it’s between the two of us. As for
+Lantier—well, he’s no good either. He’d beat the hide off you for
+anything, and with his fist closed too. They fought all the time. The
+police even came once.”
+
+Virginie went on about other fights. Oh, she knew of things that would
+make your hair stand up. Gervaise listened in silence, her face pale.
+It was nearly seven years since she had heard a word about Lantier. She
+hadn’t realized what a strong curiosity she had as to what had become
+of the poor man, even though he had treated her badly. And she never
+would have believed that just the mention of his name could put such a
+glowing warmth in the pit of her stomach. She certainly had no reason
+to be jealous of Adele any more but she rejoiced to think of her body
+all bruised from the beatings. She could have listened to Virginie all
+night, but she didn’t ask any questions, not wanting to appear much
+interested.
+
+Virginie stopped to sip at her coffee. Gervaise, realizing that she was
+expected to say something, asked, with a pretence of indifference:
+
+“Are they still living at La Glaciere?”
+
+“No!” the other replied. “Didn’t I tell you? They separated last week.
+One morning, Adele moved out and Lantier didn’t chase after her.”
+
+“So they’re separated!” Gervaise exclaimed.
+
+“Who are you talking about?” Clemence asked, interrupting her
+conversation with mother Coupeau and Madame Putois.
+
+“Nobody you know,” said Virginie.
+
+She was looking at Gervaise carefully and could see that she was upset.
+She moved still closer, maliciously finding pleasure in bringing up
+these old stories. Of a sudden she asked Gervaise what she would do if
+Lantier came round here. Men were really such strange creatures, he
+might decide to return to his first love. This caused Gervaise to sit
+up very straight and dignified. She was a married woman; she would send
+Lantier off immediately. There was no possibility of anything further
+between them, not even a handshake. She would not even want to look
+that man in the face.
+
+“I know that Etienne is his son, and that’s a relationship that
+remains,” she said. “If Lantier wants to see his son, I’ll send the boy
+to him because you can’t stop a father from seeing his child. But as
+for myself, I don’t want him to touch me even with the tip of his
+finger. That is all finished.”
+
+Desiring to break off this conversation, she seemed to awake with a
+start and called out to the women:
+
+“You ladies! Do you think all these clothes are going to iron
+themselves? Get to work!”
+
+The workwomen, slow from the heat and general laziness, didn’t hurry
+themselves, but went right on talking, gossiping about other people
+they had known.
+
+Gervaise shook herself and got to her feet. Couldn’t earn money by
+sitting all day. She was the first to return to the ironing, but found
+that her curtains had been spotted by the coffee and she had to rub out
+the stains with a damp cloth. The other women were now stretching and
+getting ready to begin ironing.
+
+Clemence had a terrible attack of coughing as soon as she moved.
+Finally she was able to return to the shirt she had been doing. Madame
+Putois began to work on the petticoat again.
+
+“Well, good-bye,” said Virginie. “I only came out for a quarter-pound
+of Swiss cheese. Poisson must think I’ve frozen to death on the way.”
+
+She had only just stepped outside when she turned back to say that
+Augustine was at the end of the street, sliding on the ice with some
+urchins. The squint-eyed imp rushed in all red-faced and out of breath
+with snow all in her hair. She didn’t mind the scolding she received,
+merely saying that she hadn’t been able to walk fast because of the ice
+and then some brats threw snow at her.
+
+The afternoons were all the same these winter days. The laundry was the
+refuge for anyone in the neighborhood who was cold. There was an
+endless procession of gossiping women. Gervaise took pride in the
+comforting warmth of her shop and welcomed those who came in, “holding
+a salon,” as the Lorilleuxs and the Boches remarked meanly.
+
+Gervaise was always thoughtful and generous. Sometimes she even invited
+poor people in if she saw them shivering outside. A friendship sprang
+up with an elderly house-painter who was seventy. He lived in an attic
+room and was slowly dying of cold and hunger. His three sons had been
+killed in the war. He survived the best he could, but it had been two
+years since he had been able to hold a paint-brush in his hand.
+Whenever Gervaise saw Pere Bru walking outside, she would call him in
+and arrange a place for him close to the stove. Often she gave him some
+bread and cheese. Pere Bru’s face was as wrinkled as a withered apple.
+He would sit there, with his stooping shoulders and his white beard,
+without saying a word, just listening to the coke sputtering in the
+stove. Maybe he was thinking of his fifty years of hard work on high
+ladders, his fifty years spent painting doors and whitewashing ceilings
+in every corner of Paris.
+
+“Well, Pere Bru,” Gervaise would say, “what are you thinking of now?”
+
+“Nothing much. All sorts of things,” he would answer quietly.
+
+The workwomen tried to joke with him to cheer him up, saying he was
+worrying over his love affairs, but he scarcely listened to them before
+he fell back into his habitual attitude of meditative melancholy.
+
+Virginie now frequently spoke to Gervaise of Lantier. She seemed to
+find amusement in filling her mind with ideas of her old lover just for
+the pleasure of embarrassing her by making suggestions. One day she
+related that she had met him; then, as the laundress took no notice,
+she said nothing further, and it was only on the morrow that she added
+he had spoken about her for a long time, and with a great show of
+affection. Gervaise was much upset by these reports whispered in her
+ear in a corner of the shop. The mention of Lantier’s name always
+caused a worried sensation in the pit of her stomach. She certainly
+thought herself strong; she wished to lead the life of an industrious
+woman, because labor is the half of happiness. So she never considered
+Coupeau in this matter, having nothing to reproach herself with as
+regarded her husband, not even in her thoughts. But with a hesitating
+and suffering heart, she would think of the blacksmith. It seemed to
+her that the memory of Lantier—that slow possession which she was
+resuming—rendered her unfaithful to Goujet, to their unavowed love,
+sweet as friendship. She passed sad days whenever she felt herself
+guilty towards her good friend. She would have liked to have had no
+affection for anyone but him outside of her family. It was a feeling
+far above all carnal thoughts, for the signs of which upon her burning
+face Virginie was ever on the watch.
+
+As soon as spring came Gervaise often went and sought refuge with
+Goujet. She could no longer sit musing on a chair without immediately
+thinking of her first lover; she pictured him leaving Adele, packing
+his clothes in the bottom of their old trunk, and returning to her in a
+cab. The days when she went out, she was seized with the most foolish
+fears in the street; she was ever thinking she heard Lantier’s
+footsteps behind her. She did not dare turn round, but tremblingly
+fancied she felt his hands seizing her round the waist. He was, no
+doubt, spying upon her; he would appear before her some afternoon; and
+the bare idea threw her into a cold perspiration, because he would to a
+certainty kiss her on the ear, as he used to do in former days solely
+to tease her. It was this kiss which frightened her; it rendered her
+deaf beforehand; it filled her with a buzzing amidst which she could
+only distinguish the sound of her heart beating violently. So, as soon
+as these fears seized upon her, the forge was her only shelter; there,
+under Goujet’s protection, she once more became easy and smiling, as
+his sonorous hammer drove away her disagreeable reflections.
+
+What a happy time! The laundress took particular pains with the washing
+of her customer in the Rue des Portes-Blanches; she always took it home
+herself because that errand, every Friday, was a ready excuse for
+passing through the Rue Marcadet and looking in at the forge. The
+moment she turned the corner of the street she felt light and gay, as
+though in the midst of those plots of waste land surrounded by grey
+factories, she were out in the country; the roadway black with
+coal-dust, the plumage of steam over the roofs, amused her as much as a
+moss-covered path leading through masses of green foliage in a wood in
+the environs; and she loved the dull horizon, streaked by the tall
+factory-chimneys, the Montmartre heights, which hid the heavens from
+view, the chalky white houses pierced with the uniform openings of
+their windows. She would slacken her steps as she drew near, jumping
+over the pools of water, and finding a pleasure in traversing the
+deserted ins and outs of the yard full of old building materials. Right
+at the further end the forge shone with a brilliant light, even at
+mid-day. Her heart leapt with the dance of the hammers. When she
+entered, her face turned quite red, the little fair hairs at the nape
+of her neck flew about like those of a woman arriving at some lovers’
+meeting. Goujet was expecting her, his arms and chest bare, whilst he
+hammered harder on the anvil on those days so as to make himself heard
+at a distance. He divined her presence, and greeted her with a good
+silent laugh in his yellow beard. But she would not let him leave off
+his work; she begged him to take up his hammer again, because she loved
+him the more when he wielded it with his big arms swollen with muscles.
+She would go and give Etienne a gentle tap on the cheek, as he hung on
+to the bellows, and then remain for an hour watching the rivets.
+
+The two did not exchange a dozen words. They could not have more
+completely satisfied their love if alone in a room with the door
+double-locked. The snickering of Salted-Mouth, otherwise
+Drink-without-Thirst, did not bother them in the least, for they no
+longer even heard him. At the end of a quarter of an hour she would
+begin to feel slightly oppressed; the heat, the powerful smell, the
+ascending smoke, made her dizzy, whilst the dull thuds of the hammers
+shook her from the crown of her head to the soles of her feet. Then she
+desired nothing more; it was her pleasure. Had Goujet pressed her in
+his arms it would not have procured her so sweet an emotion. She drew
+close to him that she might feel the wind raised by his hammer beat
+upon her cheek, and become, as it were, a part of the blow he struck.
+When the sparks made her soft hands smart, she did not withdraw them;
+on the contrary, she enjoyed the rain of fire which stung her skin. He
+for certain, divined the happiness which she tasted there; he always
+kept the most difficult work for the Fridays, so as to pay his court to
+her with all his strength and all his skill; he no longer spared
+himself at the risk of splitting the anvils in two, as he panted and
+his loins vibrated with the joy he was procuring her. All one
+spring-time their love thus filled Goujet with the rumbling of a storm.
+It was an idyll amongst giant-like labor in the midst of the glare of
+the coal fire, and of the shaking of the shed, the cracking carcass of
+which was black with soot. All that beaten iron, kneaded like red wax,
+preserved the rough marks of their love. When on the Fridays the
+laundress parted from Golden-Mug, she slowly reascended the Rue des
+Poissonniers, contented and tired, her mind and her body alike
+tranquil.
+
+Little by little, her fear of Lantier diminished; her good sense got
+the better of her. At that time she would still have led a happy life,
+had it not been for Coupeau, who was decidedly going to the bad. One
+day she just happened to be returning from the forge, when she fancied
+she recognized Coupeau inside Pere Colombe’s l’Assommoir, in the act of
+treating himself to a round of vitriol in the company of My-Boots,
+Bibi-the-Smoker, and Salted-Mouth, otherwise Drink-without-Thirst. She
+passed quickly by, so as not to seem to be spying on them. But she
+glanced back; it was indeed Coupeau who was tossing his little glass of
+bad brandy down his throat with a gesture already familiar. He lied
+then; so he went in for brandy now! She returned home in despair; all
+her old dread of brandy took possession of her. She forgave the wine,
+because wine nourishes the workman; all kinds of spirit, on the
+contrary, were filth, poisons which destroyed in the workman the taste
+for bread. Ah! the government ought to prevent the manufacture of such
+horrid stuff!
+
+On arriving at the Rue de la Goutte-d’Or, she found the whole house
+upset. Her workwomen had left the shop, and were in the courtyard
+looking up above. She questioned Clemence.
+
+“It’s old Bijard who’s giving his wife a hiding,” replied the ironer.
+“He was in the doorway, as drunk as a trooper, watching for her return
+from the wash-house. He whacked her up the stairs, and now he’s
+finishing her off up there in their room. Listen, can’t you hear her
+shrieks?”
+
+Gervaise hastened to the spot. She felt some friendship for her
+washer-woman, Madame Bijard, who was a very courageous woman. She had
+hoped to put a stop to what was going on. Upstairs, on the sixth floor
+the door of the room was wide open, some lodgers were shouting on the
+landing, whilst Madame Boche, standing in front of the door, was
+calling out:
+
+“Will you leave off? I shall send for the police; do you hear?”
+
+No one dared to venture inside the room, because it was known that
+Bijard was like a brute beast when he was drunk. As a matter of fact,
+he was scarcely ever sober. The rare days on which he worked, he placed
+a bottle of brandy beside his blacksmith’s vise, gulping some of it
+down every half hour. He could not keep himself going any other way. He
+would have blazed away like a torch if anyone had placed a lighted
+match close to his mouth.
+
+“But we mustn’t let her be murdered!” said Gervaise, all in a tremble.
+
+And she entered. The room, an attic, and very clean, was bare and cold,
+almost emptied by the drunken habits of the man, who took the very
+sheets from the bed to turn them into liquor. During the struggle the
+table had rolled away to the window, the two chairs, knocked over, had
+fallen with their legs in the air. In the middle of the room, on the
+tile floor, lay Madame Bijard, all bloody, her skirts, still soaked
+with the water of the wash-house, clinging to her thighs, her hair
+straggling in disorder. She was breathing heavily, with a rattle in her
+throat, as she muttered prolonged ohs! each time she received a blow
+from the heel of Bijard’s boot. He had knocked her down with his fists,
+and now he stamped upon her.
+
+“Ah, strumpet! Ah, strumpet! Ah strumpet!” grunted he in a choking
+voice, accompanying each blow with the word, taking a delight in
+repeating it, and striking all the harder the more he found his voice
+failing him.
+
+Then when he could no longer speak, he madly continued to kick with a
+dull sound, rigid in his ragged blue blouse and overalls, his face
+turned purple beneath his dirty beard, and his bald forehead streaked
+with big red blotches. The neighbors on the landing related that he was
+beating her because she had refused him twenty sous that morning.
+Boche’s voice was heard at the foot of the staircase. He was calling
+Madame Boche, saying:
+
+“Come down; let them kill each other, it’ll be so much scum the less.”
+
+Meanwhile, Pere Bru had followed Gervaise into the room. Between them
+they were trying to get him towards the door. But he turned round,
+speechless and foaming at the lips, and in his pale eyes the alcohol
+was blazing with a murderous glare. The laundress had her wrist
+injured; the old workman was knocked against the table. On the floor,
+Madame Bijard was breathing with greater difficulty, her mouth wide
+open, her eyes closed. Now Bijard kept missing her. He had madly
+returned to the attack, but blinded by rage, his blows fell on either
+side, and at times he almost fell when his kicks went into space. And
+during all this onslaught, Gervaise beheld in a corner of the room
+little Lalie, then four years old, watching her father murdering her
+mother. The child held in her arms, as though to protect her, her
+sister Henriette, only recently weaned. She was standing up, her head
+covered with a cotton cap, her face very pale and grave. Her large
+black eyes gazed with a fixedness full of thought and were without a
+tear.
+
+When at length Bijard, running against a chair, stumbled onto the tiled
+floor, where they left him snoring, Pere Bru helped Gervaise to raise
+Madame Bijard. The latter was now sobbing bitterly; and Lalie, drawing
+near, watched her crying, being used to such sights and already
+resigned to them. As the laundress descended the stairs, in the silence
+of the now quieted house, she kept seeing before her that look of this
+child of four, as grave and courageous as that of a woman.
+
+“Monsieur Coupeau is on the other side of the street,” called out
+Clemence as soon as she caught sight of her. “He looks awfully drunk.”
+
+Coupeau was just then crossing the street. He almost smashed a pane of
+glass with his shoulder as he missed the door. He was in a state of
+complete drunkenness, with his teeth clinched and his nose inflamed.
+And Gervaise at once recognized the vitriol of l’Assommoir in the
+poisoned blood which paled his skin. She tried to joke and get him to
+bed, the same as on the days when the wine had made him merry; but he
+pushed her aside without opening his lips, and raised his fist in
+passing as he went to bed of his own accord. He made Gervaise think of
+the other—the drunkard who was snoring upstairs, tired out by the blows
+he had struck. A cold shiver passed over her. She thought of the men
+she knew—of her husband, of Goujet, of Lantier—her heart breaking,
+despairing of ever being happy.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VII.
+
+
+Gervaise’s saint’s day fell on the 19th of June. On such occasions, the
+Coupeaus always made a grand display; they feasted till they were as
+round as balls, and their stomachs were filled for the rest of the
+week. There was a complete clear out of all the money they had. The
+moment there were a few sous in the house they went in gorging. They
+invented saints for those days which the almanac had not provided with
+any, just for the sake of giving themselves a pretext for gormandizing.
+Virginie highly commended Gervaise for stuffing herself with all sorts
+of savory dishes. When one has a husband who turns all he can lay hands
+on into drink, it’s good to line one’s stomach well, and not to let
+everything go off in liquids. Since the money would disappear anyway,
+surely it was better to pay it to the butcher. Gervaise used that
+excuse to justify overeating, saying it was Coupeau’s fault if they
+could no longer save a sou. She had grown considerably fatter, and she
+limped more than before because her leg, now swollen with fat, seemed
+to be getting gradually shorter.
+
+That year they talked about her saint’s day a good month beforehand.
+They thought of dishes and smacked their lips in advance. All the shop
+had a confounded longing to junket. They wanted a merry-making of the
+right sort—something out of the ordinary and highly successful. One
+does not have so many opportunities for enjoyment. What most troubled
+the laundress was to decide whom to invite; she wished to have twelve
+persons at table, no more, no less. She, her husband, mother Coupeau,
+and Madame Lerat, already made four members of the family. She would
+also have the Goujets and the Poissons. Originally, she had decided not
+to invite her workwomen, Madame Putois and Clemence, so as not to make
+them too familiar; but as the projected feast was being constantly
+spoken of in their presence, and their mouths watered, she ended by
+telling them to come. Four and four, eight, and two are ten. Then,
+wishing particularly to have twelve, she became reconciled with the
+Lorilleuxs, who for some time past had been hovering around her; at
+least it was agreed that the Lorilleuxs should come to dinner, and that
+peace should be made with glasses in hand. You really shouldn’t keep
+family quarrels going forever. When the Boches heard that a
+reconciliation was planned, they also sought to make up with Gervaise,
+and so they had to be invited to the dinner too. That would make
+fourteen, not counting the children. Never before had she given such a
+large dinner and the thought frightened and excited her at the same
+time.
+
+The saint’s day happened to fall on a Monday. It was a piece of luck.
+Gervaise counted on the Sunday afternoon to begin the cooking. On the
+Saturday, whilst the workwomen hurried with their work, there was a
+long discussion in the shop with the view of finally deciding upon what
+the feast should consist of. For three weeks past one thing alone had
+been chosen—a fat roast goose. There was a gluttonous look on every
+face whenever it was mentioned. The goose was even already bought.
+Mother Coupeau went and fetched it to let Clemence and Madame Putois
+feel its weight. And they uttered all kinds of exclamations; it looked
+such an enormous bird, with its rough skin all swelled out with yellow
+fat.
+
+“Before that there will be the pot-au-feu,” said Gervaise, “the soup
+and just a small piece of boiled beef, it’s always good. Then we must
+have something in the way of a stew.”
+
+Tall Clemence suggested rabbit, but they were always having that,
+everyone was sick of it. Gervaise wanted something more distinguished.
+Madame Putois having spoken of stewed veal, they looked at one another
+with broad smiles. It was a real idea, nothing would make a better
+impression than a veal stew.
+
+“And after that,” resumed Gervaise, “we must have some other dish with
+a sauce.”
+
+Mother Coupeau proposed fish. But the others made a grimace, as they
+banged down their irons. None of them liked fish; it was not a bit
+satisfying; and besides that it was full of bones. Squint-eyed
+Augustine, having dared to observe that she liked skate, Clemence shut
+her mouth for her with a good sound clout. At length the mistress
+thought of stewed pig’s back and potatoes, which restored the smiles to
+every countenance. Then Virginie entered like a puff of wind, with a
+strange look on her face.
+
+“You’ve come just at the right time!” exclaimed Gervaise. “Mother
+Coupeau, do show her the bird.”
+
+And mother Coupeau went a second time and fetched the goose, which
+Virginie had to take in her hands. She uttered no end of exclamations.
+By Jove! It was heavy! But she soon laid it down on the work-table,
+between a petticoat and a bundle of shirts. Her thoughts were
+elsewhere. She dragged Gervaise into the back-room.
+
+“I say, little one,” murmured she rapidly, “I’ve come to warn you.
+You’ll never guess who I just met at the corner of the street. Lantier,
+my dear! He’s hovering about on the watch; so I hastened here at once.
+It frightened me on your account, you know.”
+
+The laundress turned quite pale. What could the wretched man want with
+her? Coming, too, like that, just in the midst of the preparations for
+the feast. She had never had any luck; she could not even be allowed to
+enjoy herself quietly. But Virginie replied that she was very foolish
+to put herself out about it like that. Why! If Lantier dared to follow
+her about, all she had to do was to call a policeman and have him
+locked up. In the month since her husband had been appointed a
+policeman, Virginie had assumed rather lordly manners and talked of
+arresting everybody. She began to raise her voice, saying that she
+wished some passer-by would pinch her bottom so that she could take the
+fresh fellow to the police station herself and turn him over to her
+husband. Gervaise signaled her to be quiet since the workwomen were
+listening and led the way back into the shop, reopening the discussion
+about the dinner.
+
+“Now, don’t we need a vegetable?”
+
+“Why not peas with bacon?” said Virginie. “I like nothing better.”
+
+“Yes, peas with bacon.” The others approved. Augustine was so
+enthusiastic that she jabbed the poker into the stove harder than ever.
+
+By three o’clock on the morrow, Sunday, mother Coupeau had lighted
+their two stoves and also a third one of earthenware which they had
+borrowed from the Boches. At half-past three the pot-au-feu was boiling
+away in an enormous earthenware pot lent by the eating-house keeper
+next door, the family pot having been found too small. They had decided
+to cook the veal and the pig’s back the night before, since both of
+those dishes are better when reheated. But the cream sauce for the veal
+would not be prepared until just before sitting down for the feast.
+
+There was still plenty of work left for Monday: the soup, the peas with
+bacon, the roast goose. The inner room was lit by three fires. Butter
+was sizzling in the pans and emitting a sharp odor of burnt flour.
+
+Mother Coupeau and Gervaise, with white aprons tied on, were bustling
+all around, cleaning parsley, dashing for salt and pepper, turning the
+meat. They had sent Coupeau away so as not to have him underfoot, but
+they still had plenty of people looking in throughout the afternoon.
+The luscious smells from the kitchen had spread through the entire
+building so that neighboring ladies came into the shop on various
+pretexts, very curious to see what was being cooked.
+
+Virginie put in an appearance towards five o’clock. She had again seen
+Lantier; really, it was impossible to go down the street now without
+meeting him. Madame Boche also had just caught sight of him standing at
+the corner of the pavement with his head thrust forward in an
+uncommonly sly manner. Then Gervaise who had at that moment intended
+going for a sou’s worth of burnt onions for the pot-au-feu, began to
+tremble from head to foot and did not dare leave the house; the more
+so, as the concierge and the dressmaker put her into a terrible fright
+by relating horrible stories of men waiting for women with knives and
+pistols hidden beneath their overcoats. Well, yes! one reads of such
+things every day in the newspapers. When one of those scoundrels gets
+his monkey up on discovering an old love leading a happy life he
+becomes capable of everything. Virginie obligingly offered to run and
+fetch the burnt onions. Women should always help one another, they
+could not let that little thing be murdered. When she returned she said
+that Lantier was no longer there; he had probably gone off on finding
+he was discovered. In spite of that thought, he was the subject of
+conversation around the saucepans until night-time. When Madame Boche
+advised her to inform Coupeau, Gervaise became really terrified, and
+implored her not to say a word about it. Oh, yes, wouldn’t that be a
+nice situation! Her husband must have become suspicious already because
+for the last few days, at night, he would swear to himself and bang the
+wall with his fists. The mere thought that the two men might destroy
+each other because of her made her shudder. She knew that Coupeau was
+jealous enough to attack Lantier with his shears.
+
+While the four of them had been deep in contemplating this drama, the
+saucepans on the banked coals of the stoves had been quietly simmering.
+When mother Coupeau lifted the lids, the veal and the pig’s back were
+discreetly bubbling. The pot-au-feu was steadily steaming with
+snore-like sounds. Eventually each of them dipped a piece of bread into
+the soup to taste the bouillon.
+
+At length Monday arrived. Now that Gervaise was going to have fourteen
+persons at table, she began to fear that she would not be able to find
+room for them all. She decided that they should dine in the shop; and
+the first thing in the morning she took measurements so as to settle
+which way she should place the table. After that they had to remove all
+the clothes and take the ironing-table to pieces; the top of this laid
+on to some shorter trestles was to be the dining-table. But just in the
+midst of all this moving a customer appeared and made a scene because
+she had been waiting for her washing ever since the Friday; they were
+humbugging her, she would have her things at once. Then Gervaise tried
+to excuse herself and lied boldly; it was not her fault, she was
+cleaning out her shop, the workmen would not be there till the morrow;
+and she pacified her customer and got rid of her by promising to busy
+herself with her things at the earliest possible moment. Then, as soon
+as the woman had left, she showed her temper. Really, if you listened
+to all your customers, you’d never have time to eat. You could work
+yourself to death like a dog on a leash! Well! No matter who came in
+to-day, even if they offered one hundred thousand francs, she wouldn’t
+touch an iron on this Monday, because it was her turn to enjoy herself.
+
+The entire morning was spent in completing the purchases. Three times
+Gervaise went out and returned laden like a mule. But just as she was
+going to order wine she noticed that she had not sufficient money left.
+She could easily have got it on credit; only she could not be without
+money in the house, on account of the thousand little expenses that one
+is liable to forget. And mother Coupeau and she had lamented together
+in the back-room as they reckoned that they required at least twenty
+francs. How could they obtain them, those four pieces of a hundred sous
+each? Mother Coupeau who had at one time done the charring for a little
+actress of the Theatre des Batignolles, was the first to suggest the
+pawn-shop. Gervaise laughed with relief. How stupid she was not to have
+thought of it! She quickly folded her black silk dress upon a towel
+which she then pinned together. Then she hid the bundle under mother
+Coupeau’s apron, telling her to keep it very flat against her stomach,
+on account of the neighbors who had no need to know; and she went and
+watched at the door to see that the old woman was not followed. But the
+latter had only gone as far as the charcoal dealer’s when she called
+her back.
+
+“Mamma! Mamma!”
+
+She made her return to the shop, and taking her wedding-ring off her
+finger said:
+
+“Here, put this with it. We shall get all the more.”
+
+When mother Coupeau brought her twenty-five francs, she danced for joy.
+She would order an extra six bottles of wine, sealed wine to drink with
+the roast. The Lorilleuxs would be crushed.
+
+For a fortnight past it had been the Coupeaus’ dream to crush the
+Lorilleuxs. Was it not true that those sly ones, the man and his wife,
+a truly pretty couple, shut themselves up whenever they had anything
+nice to eat as though they had stolen it? Yes, they covered up the
+window with a blanket to hide the light and make believe that they were
+already asleep in bed. This stopped anyone from coming up, and so the
+Lorilleuxs could stuff everything down, just the two of them. They were
+even careful the next day not to throw the bones into the garbage so
+that no one would know what they had eaten. Madame Lorilleux would walk
+to the end of the street to toss them into a sewer opening. One morning
+Gervaise surprised her emptying a basket of oyster shells there. Oh,
+those penny-pinchers were never open-handed, and all their mean
+contrivances came from their desire to appear to be poor. Well, we’d
+show them, we’d prove to them that we weren’t mean.
+
+Gervaise would have laid her table in the street, had she been able to,
+just for the sake of inviting each passer-by. Money was not invented
+that it should be allowed to grow moldy, was it? It is pretty when it
+shines all new in the sunshine. She resembled them so little now, that
+on the days when she had twenty sous she arranged things to let people
+think that she had forty.
+
+Mother Coupeau and Gervaise talked of the Lorilleuxs whilst they laid
+the cloth about three o’clock. They had hung some big curtains at the
+windows; but as it was very warm the door was left open and the whole
+street passed in front of the little table. The two women did not place
+a decanter, or a bottle, or a salt-cellar, without trying to arrange
+them in such a way as to annoy the Lorilleuxs. They had arranged their
+seats so as to give them a full view of the superbly laid cloth, and
+they had reserved the best crockery for them, well knowing that the
+porcelain plates would create a great effect.
+
+“No, no, mamma,” cried Gervaise; “don’t give them those napkins! I’ve
+two damask ones.”
+
+“Ah, good!” murmured the old woman; “that’ll break their hearts, that’s
+certain.”
+
+And they smiled to each other as they stood up on either side of that
+big white table on which the fourteen knives and forks, placed all
+round, caused them to swell with pride. It had the appearance of the
+altar of some chapel in the middle of the shop.
+
+“That’s because they’re so stingy themselves!” resumed Gervaise. “You
+know they lied last month when the woman went about everywhere saying
+that she had lost a piece of gold chain as she was taking the work
+home. The idea! There’s no fear of her ever losing anything! It was
+simply a way of making themselves out very poor and of not giving you
+your five francs.”
+
+“As yet I’ve only seen my five francs twice,” said mother Coupeau.
+
+“I’ll bet next month they’ll concoct some other story. That explains
+why they cover their window up when they have a rabbit to eat. Don’t
+you see? One would have the right to say to them: ‘As you can afford a
+rabbit you can certainly give five francs to your mother!’ Oh! they’re
+just rotten! What would have become of you if I hadn’t taken you to
+live with us?”
+
+Mother Coupeau slowly shook her head. That day she was all against the
+Lorilleuxs, because of the great feast the Coupeaus were giving. She
+loved cooking, the little gossipings round the saucepans, the place
+turned topsy-turvy by the revels of saints’ days. Besides she generally
+got on pretty well with Gervaise. On other days when they plagued one
+another as happens in all families, the old woman grumbled saying she
+was wretchedly unfortunate in thus being at her daughter-in-law’s
+mercy. In point of fact she probably had some affection for Madame
+Lorilleux who after all was her daughter.
+
+“Ah!” continued Gervaise, “you wouldn’t be so fat, would you, if you
+were living with them? And no coffee, no snuff, no little luxuries of
+any sort! Tell me, would they have given you two mattresses to your
+bed?”
+
+“No, that’s very certain,” replied mother Coupeau. “When they arrive I
+shall place myself so as to have a good view of the door to see the
+faces they’ll make.”
+
+Thinking of the faces they would make gave them pleasure ahead of time.
+However, they couldn’t remain standing there admiring the table. The
+Coupeaus had lunched very late on just a bite or two, because the
+stoves were already in use, and because they did not want to dirty any
+dishes needed for the evening. By four o’clock the two women were
+working very hard. The huge goose was being cooked on a spit.
+Squint-eyed Augustine was sitting on a low bench solemnly basting the
+goose with a long-handled spoon. Gervaise was busy with the peas with
+bacon. Mother Coupeau, kept spinning around, a bit confused, waiting
+for the right time to begin reheating the pork and the veal.
+
+Towards five o’clock the guests began to arrive. First of all came the
+two workwomen, Clemence and Madame Putois, both in their Sunday best,
+the former in blue, the latter in black; Clemence carried a geranium,
+Madame Putois a heliotrope, and Gervaise, whose hands were just then
+smothered with flour, had to kiss each of them on both cheeks with her
+arms behind her back. Then following close upon their heels entered
+Virginie dressed like a lady in a printed muslin costume with a sash
+and a bonnet though she had only a few steps to come. She brought a pot
+of red carnations. She took the laundress in her big arms and squeezed
+her tight. At length Boche appeared with a pot of pansies and Madame
+Boche with a pot of mignonette; then came Madame Lerat with a
+balm-mint, the pot of which had dirtied her violet merino dress. All
+these people kissed each other and gathered together in the back-room
+in the midst of the three stoves and the roasting apparatus, which gave
+out a stifling heat. The noise from the saucepans drowned the voices. A
+dress catching in the Dutch oven caused quite an emotion. The smell of
+roast goose was so strong that it made their mouths water. And Gervaise
+was very pleasant, thanking everyone for their flowers without however
+letting that interfere with her preparing the thickening for the stewed
+veal at the bottom of a soup plate. She had placed the pots in the shop
+at one end of the table without removing the white paper that was round
+them. A sweet scent of flowers mingled with the odor of cooking.
+
+“Do you want any assistance?” asked Virginie. “Just fancy, you’ve been
+three days preparing all this feast and it will be gobbled up in no
+time.”
+
+“Well, you know,” replied Gervaise, “it wouldn’t prepare itself. No,
+don’t dirty your hands. You see everything’s ready. There’s only the
+soup to warm.”
+
+Then they all made themselves comfortable. The ladies laid their shawls
+and their caps on the bed and pinned up their skirts so as not to soil
+them. Boche sent his wife back to the concierge’s lodge until time to
+eat and had cornered Clemence in a corner trying to find out if she was
+ticklish. She was gasping for breath, as the mere thought of being
+tickled sent shivers through her. So as not to bother the cooks, the
+other ladies had gone into the shop and were standing against the wall
+facing the table. They were talking through the door though, and as
+they could not hear very well, they were continually invading the
+back-room and crowding around Gervaise, who would forget what she was
+doing to answer them.
+
+There were a few stories which brought sly laughter. When Virginie
+mentioned that she hadn’t eaten for two days in order to have more room
+for today’s feast, tall Clemence said that she had cleaned herself out
+that morning with an enema like the English do. Then Boche suggested a
+way of digesting the food quickly by squeezing oneself after each
+course, another English custom. After all, when you were invited to
+dinner, wasn’t it polite to eat as much as you could? Veal and pork and
+goose are placed out for the cats to eat. The hostess didn’t need to
+worry a bit, they were going to clean their plates so thoroughly that
+she wouldn’t have to wash them.
+
+All of them kept coming to smell the air above the saucepans and the
+roaster. The ladies began to act like young girls, scurrying from room
+to room and pushing each other.
+
+Just as they were all jumping about and shouting by way of amusement,
+Goujet appeared. He was so timid he scarcely dared enter, but stood
+still, holding a tall white rose-tree in his arms, a magnificent plant
+with a stem that reached to his face and entangled the flowers in his
+beard. Gervaise ran to him, her cheeks burning from the heat of the
+stoves. But he did not know how to get rid of his pot; and when she had
+taken it from his hands he stammered, not daring to kiss her. It was
+she who was obliged to stand on tip-toe and place her cheek against his
+lips; he was so agitated that even then he kissed her roughly on the
+eye almost blinding her. They both stood trembling.
+
+“Oh! Monsieur Goujet, it’s too lovely!” said she, placing the rose-tree
+beside the other flowers which it overtopped with the whole of its tuft
+of foliage.
+
+“Not at all, not at all!” repeated he, unable to say anything else.
+
+Then, after sighing deeply, he slightly recovered himself and stated
+that she was not to expect his mother; she was suffering from an attack
+of sciatica. Gervaise was greatly grieved; she talked of putting a
+piece of the goose on one side as she particularly wished Madame Goujet
+to have a taste of the bird. No one else was expected. Coupeau was no
+doubt strolling about in the neighborhood with Poisson whom he had
+called for directly after his lunch; they would be home directly, they
+had promised to be back punctually at six. Then as the soup was almost
+ready, Gervaise called to Madame Lerat, saying that she thought it was
+time to go and fetch the Lorilleuxs. Madame Lerat became at once very
+grave; it was she who had conducted all the negotiations and who had
+settled how everything should pass between the two families. She put
+her cap and shawl on again and went upstairs very stiffly in her
+skirts, looking very stately. Down below the laundress continued to
+stir her vermicelli soup without saying a word. The guests suddenly
+became serious and solemnly waited.
+
+It was Madame Lerat who appeared first. She had gone round by the
+street so as to give more pomp to the reconciliation. She held the
+shop-door wide open whilst Madame Lorilleux, wearing a silk dress,
+stopped at the threshold. All the guests had risen from their seats;
+Gervaise went forward and kissing her sister-in-law as had been agreed,
+said:
+
+“Come in. It’s all over, isn’t it? We’ll both be nice to each other.”
+
+And Madame Lorilleux replied:
+
+“I shall be only too happy if we’re so always.”
+
+When she had entered Lorilleux also stopped at the threshold and he
+likewise waited to be embraced before penetrating into the shop.
+Neither the one nor the other had brought a bouquet. They had decided
+not to do so as they thought it would look too much like giving way to
+Clump-clump if they carried flowers with them the first time they set
+foot in her home. Gervaise called to Augustine to bring two bottles of
+wine. Then, filling some glasses on a corner of the table, she called
+everyone to her. And each took a glass and drank to the good friendship
+of the family. There was a pause whilst the guests were drinking, the
+ladies raising their elbows and emptying their glasses to the last
+drop.
+
+“Nothing is better before soup,” declared Boche, smacking his lips.
+
+Mother Coupeau had placed herself opposite the door to see the faces
+the Lorilleuxs would make. She pulled Gervaise by the skirt and dragged
+her into the back-room. And as they both leant over the soup they
+conversed rapidly in a low voice.
+
+“Huh! What a sight!” said the old woman. “You couldn’t see them; but I
+was watching. When she caught sight of the table her face twisted
+around like that, the corners of her mouth almost touched her eyes; and
+as for him, it nearly choked him, he coughed and coughed. Now just look
+at them over there; they’ve no saliva left in their mouths, they’re
+chewing their lips.”
+
+“It’s quite painful to see people as jealous as that,” murmured
+Gervaise.
+
+Really the Lorilleuxs had a funny look about them. No one of course
+likes to be crushed; in families especially when the one succeeds, the
+others do not like it; that is only natural. Only one keeps it in, one
+does not make an exhibition of oneself. Well! The Lorilleuxs could not
+keep it in. It was more than a match for them. They squinted—their
+mouths were all on one side. In short it was so apparent that the other
+guests looked at them, and asked them if they were unwell. Never would
+they be able to stomach this table with its fourteen place-settings,
+its white linen table cloth, its slices of bread cut in advance, all in
+the style of a first-class restaurant. Mme. Lorilleux went around the
+table, surreptitiously fingering the table cloth, tortured by the
+thought that it was a new one.
+
+“Everything’s ready!” cried Gervaise as she reappeared with a smile,
+her arms bare and her little fair curls blowing over her temples.
+
+“If the boss would only come,” resumed the laundress, “we might begin.”
+
+“Ah, well!” said Madame Lorilleux, “the soup will be cold by then.
+Coupeau always forgets. You shouldn’t have let him go off.”
+
+It was already half-past six. Everything was burning now; the goose
+would be overdone. Then Gervaise, feeling quite dejected, talked of
+sending someone to all the wineshops in the neighborhood to find
+Coupeau. And as Goujet offered to go, she decided to accompany him.
+Virginie, anxious about her husband went also. The three of them,
+bareheaded, quite blocked up the pavement. The blacksmith who wore his
+frock-coat, had Gervaise on his left arm and Virginie on his right; he
+was doing the two-handled basket as he said; and it seemed to them such
+a funny thing to say that they stopped, unable to move their legs for
+laughing. They looked at themselves in the pork-butcher’s glass and
+laughed more than ever. Beside Goujet, all in black, the two women
+looked like two speckled hens—the dressmaker in her muslin costume,
+sprinkled with pink flowers, the laundress in her white cambric dress
+with blue spots, her wrists bare, and wearing round her neck a little
+grey silk scarf tied in a bow. People turned round to see them pass,
+looking so fresh and lively, dressed in their Sunday best on a week day
+and jostling the crowd which hung about the Rue des Poissonniers, on
+that warm June evening. But it was not a question of amusing
+themselves. They went straight to the door of each wineshop, looked in
+and sought amongst the people standing before the counter. Had that
+animal Coupeau gone to the Arc de Triomphe to get his dram? They had
+already done the upper part of the street, looking in at all the likely
+places; at the “Little Civet,” renowned for its preserved plums; at old
+mother Baquet’s, who sold Orleans wine at eight sous; at the
+“Butterfly,” the coachmen’s house of call, gentlemen who were not easy
+to please. But no Coupeau. Then as they were going down towards the
+Boulevard, Gervaise uttered a faint cry on passing the eating-house at
+the corner kept by Francois.
+
+“What’s the matter?” asked Goujet.
+
+The laundress no longer laughed. She was very pale, and laboring under
+so great an emotion that she had almost fallen. Virginie understood it
+all as she caught a sight of Lantier seated at one of Francois’s tables
+quietly dining. The two women dragged the blacksmith along.
+
+“My ankle twisted,” said Gervaise as soon as she was able to speak.
+
+At length they discovered Coupeau and Poisson at the bottom of the
+street inside Pere Colombe’s l’Assommoir. They were standing up in the
+midst of a number of men; Coupeau, in a grey blouse, was shouting with
+furious gestures and banging his fists down on the counter. Poisson,
+not on duty that day and buttoned up in an old brown coat, was
+listening to him in a dull sort of way and without uttering a word,
+bristling his carroty moustaches and beard the while. Goujet left the
+women on the edge of the pavement, and went and laid his hand on the
+zinc-worker’s shoulder. But when the latter caught sight of Gervaise
+and Virginie outside he grew angry. Why was he badgered with such
+females as those? Petticoats had taken to tracking him about now! Well!
+He declined to stir, they could go and eat their beastly dinner all by
+themselves. To quiet him Goujet was obliged to accept a drop of
+something; and even then Coupeau took a fiendish delight in dawdling a
+good five minutes at the counter. When he at length came out he said to
+his wife:
+
+“I don’t like this. It’s my business where I go. Do you understand?”
+
+She did not answer. She was all in a tremble. She must have said
+something about Lantier to Virginie, for the latter pushed her husband
+and Goujet ahead, telling them to walk in front. The two women got on
+each side of Coupeau to keep him occupied and prevent him seeing
+Lantier. He wasn’t really drunk, being more intoxicated from shouting
+than from drinking. Since they seemed to want to stay on the left side,
+to tease them, he crossed over to the other side of the street.
+Worried, they ran after him and tried to block his view of the door of
+Francois’s. But Coupeau must have known that Lantier was there.
+Gervaise almost went out of her senses on hearing him grunt:
+
+“Yes, my duck, there’s a young fellow of our acquaintance inside there!
+You mustn’t take me for a ninny. Don’t let me catch you gallivanting
+about again with your side glances!”
+
+And he made use of some very coarse expressions. It was not him that
+she had come to look for with her bare elbows and her mealy mouth; it
+was her old beau. Then he was suddenly seized with a mad rage against
+Lantier. Ah! the brigand! Ah! the filthy hound! One or the other of
+them would have to be left on the pavement, emptied of his guts like a
+rabbit. Lantier, however, did not appear to notice what was going on
+and continued slowly eating some veal and sorrel. A crowd began to
+form. Virginie led Coupeau away and he calmed down at once as soon as
+he had turned the corner of the street. All the same they returned to
+the shop far less lively than when they left it.
+
+The guests were standing round the table with very long faces. The
+zinc-worker shook hands with them, showing himself off before the
+ladies. Gervaise, feeling rather depressed, spoke in a low voice as she
+directed them to their places. But she suddenly noticed that, as Madame
+Goujet had not come, a seat would remain empty—the one next to Madame
+Lorilleux.
+
+“We are thirteen!” said she, deeply affected, seeing in that a fresh
+omen of the misfortune with which she had felt herself threatened for
+some time past.
+
+The ladies already seated rose up looking anxious and annoyed. Madame
+Putois offered to retire because according to her it was not a matter
+to laugh about; besides she would not touch a thing, the food would do
+her no good. As to Boche, he chuckled. He would sooner be thirteen than
+fourteen; the portions would be larger, that was all.
+
+“Wait!” resumed Gervaise. “I can manage it.”
+
+And going out on to the pavement she called Pere Bru who was just then
+crossing the roadway. The old workman entered, stooping and stiff and
+his face without expression.
+
+“Seat yourself there, my good fellow,” said the laundress. “You won’t
+mind eating with us, will you?”
+
+He simply nodded his head. He was willing; he did not mind.
+
+“As well him as another,” continued she, lowering her voice. “He
+doesn’t often eat his fill. He will at least enjoy himself once more.
+We shall feel no remorse in stuffing ourselves now.”
+
+This touched Goujet so deeply that his eyes filled with tears. The
+others were also moved by compassion and said that it would bring them
+all good luck. However, Madame Lorilleux seemed unhappy at having the
+old man next to her. She cast glances of disgust at his work-roughened
+hands and his faded, patched smock, and drew away from him.
+
+Pere Bru sat with his head bowed, waiting. He was bothered by the
+napkin that was on the plate before him. Finally he lifted it off and
+placed it gently on the edge of the table, not thinking to spread it
+over his knees.
+
+Now at last Gervaise served the vermicelli soup; the guests were taking
+up their spoons when Virginie remarked that Coupeau had disappeared. He
+had perhaps returned to Pere Colombe’s. This time the company got
+angry. So much the worse! One would not run after him; he could stay in
+the street if he was not hungry; and as the spoons touched the bottom
+of the plates, Coupeau reappeared with two pots of flowers, one under
+each arm, a stock and a balsam. They all clapped their hands. He
+gallantly placed the pots, one on the right, the other on the left of
+Gervaise’s glass; then bending over and kissing her, he said:
+
+“I had forgotten you, my lamb. But in spite of that, we love each other
+all the same, especially on such a day as this.”
+
+“Monsieur Coupeau’s very nice this evening,” murmured Clemence in
+Boche’s ear. “He’s just got what he required, sufficient to make him
+amiable.”
+
+The good behavior of the master of the house restored the gaiety of the
+proceedings, which at one moment had been compromised. Gervaise, once
+more at her ease, was all smiles again. The guests finished their soup.
+Then the bottles circulated and they drank their first glass of wine,
+just a drop pure, to wash down the vermicelli. One could hear the
+children quarrelling in the next room. There were Etienne, Pauline,
+Nana and little Victor Fauconnier. It had been decided to lay a table
+for the four of them, and they had been told to be very good. That
+squint-eyed Augustine who had to look after the stoves was to eat off
+her knees.
+
+“Mamma! Mamma!” suddenly screamed Nana, “Augustine is dipping her bread
+in the Dutch oven!”
+
+The laundress hastened there and caught the squint-eyed one in the act
+of burning her throat in her attempts to swallow without loss of time a
+slice of bread soaked in boiling goose fat. She boxed her ears when the
+young monkey called out that it was not true. When, after the boiled
+beef, the stewed veal appeared, served in a salad-bowl, as they did not
+have a dish large enough, the party greeted it with a laugh.
+
+“It’s becoming serious,” declared Poisson, who seldom spoke.
+
+It was half-past seven. They had closed the shop door, so as not to be
+spied upon by the whole neighborhood; the little clockmaker opposite
+especially was opening his eyes to their full size and seemed to take
+the pieces from their mouths with such a gluttonous look that it almost
+prevented them from eating. The curtains hung before the windows
+admitted a great white uniform light which bathed the entire table with
+its symmetrical arrangement of knives and forks and its pots of flowers
+enveloped in tall collars of white paper; and this pale fading light,
+this slowly approaching dusk, gave to the party somewhat of an air of
+distinction. Virginie looked round the closed apartment hung with
+muslin and with a happy criticism declared it to be very cozy. Whenever
+a cart passed in the street the glasses jingled together on the table
+cloth and the ladies were obliged to shout out as loud as the men. But
+there was not much conversation; they all behaved very respectably and
+were very attentive to each other. Coupeau alone wore a blouse, because
+as he said one need not stand on ceremony with friends and besides
+which the blouse was the workman’s garb of honor. The ladies, laced up
+in their bodices, wore their hair in plaits greasy with pomatum in
+which the daylight was reflected; whilst the gentlemen, sitting at a
+distance from the table, swelled out their chests and kept their elbows
+wide apart for fear of staining their frock coats.
+
+Ah! thunder! What a hole they were making in the stewed veal! If they
+spoke little, they were chewing in earnest. The salad-bowl was becoming
+emptier and emptier with a spoon stuck in the midst of the thick
+sauce—a good yellow sauce which quivered like a jelly. They fished
+pieces of veal out of it and seemed as though they would never come to
+the end; the salad-bowl journeyed from hand to hand and faces bent over
+it as forks picked out the mushrooms. The long loaves standing against
+the wall behind the guests appeared to melt away. Between the mouthfuls
+one could hear the sound of glasses being replaced on the table. The
+sauce was a trifle too salty. It required four bottles of wine to drown
+that blessed stewed veal, which went down like cream, but which
+afterwards lit up a regular conflagration in one’s stomach. And before
+one had time to take a breath, the pig’s back, in the middle of a deep
+dish surrounded by big round potatoes, arrived in the midst of a cloud
+of smoke. There was one general cry. By Jove! It was just the thing!
+Everyone liked it. They would do it justice; and they followed the dish
+with a side glance as they wiped their knives on their bread so as to
+be in readiness. Then as soon as they were helped they nudged one
+another and spoke with their mouths full. It was just like butter!
+Something sweet and solid which one could feel run through one’s guts
+right down into one’s boots. The potatoes were like sugar. It was not a
+bit salty; only, just on account of the potatoes, it required a wetting
+every few minutes. Four more bottles were placed on the table. The
+plates were wiped so clean that they also served for the green peas and
+bacon. Oh! vegetables were of no consequence. They playfully gulped
+them down in spoonfuls. The best part of the dish was the small pieces
+of bacon just nicely grilled and smelling like horse’s hoof. Two
+bottles were sufficient for them.
+
+“Mamma! Mamma!” called out Nana suddenly, “Augustine’s putting her
+fingers in my plate!”
+
+“Don’t bother me! give her a slap!” replied Gervaise, in the act of
+stuffing herself with green peas.
+
+At the children’s table in the back-room, Nana was playing the role of
+lady of the house, sitting next to Victor and putting her brother
+Etienne beside Pauline so they could play house, pretending they were
+two married couples. Nana had served her guests very politely at first,
+but now she had given way to her passion for grilled bacon, trying to
+keep every piece for herself. While Augustine was prowling around the
+children’s table, she would grab the bits of bacon under the pretext of
+dividing them amongst the children. Nana was so furious that she bit
+Augustine on the wrist.
+
+“Ah! you know,” murmured Augustine, “I’ll tell your mother that after
+the veal you asked Victor to kiss you.”
+
+But all became quiet again as Gervaise and mother Coupeau came in to
+get the goose. The guests at the big table were leaning back in their
+chairs taking a breather. The men had unbuttoned their waistcoats, the
+ladies were wiping their faces with their napkins. The repast was, so
+to say, interrupted; only one or two persons, unable to keep their jaws
+still, continued to swallow large mouthfuls of bread, without even
+knowing that they were doing so. The others were waiting and allowing
+their food to settle while waiting for the main course. Night was
+slowly coming on; a dirty ashy grey light was gathering behind the
+curtains. When Augustine brought two lamps and placed one at each end
+of the table, the general disorder became apparent in the bright
+glare—the greasy forks and plates, the table cloth stained with wine
+and covered with crumbs. A strong stifling odor pervaded the room.
+Certain warm fumes, however, attracted all the noses in the direction
+of the kitchen.
+
+“Can I help you?” cried Virginie.
+
+She left her chair and passed into the inner room. All the women
+followed one by one. They surrounded the Dutch oven, and watched with
+profound interest as Gervaise and mother Coupeau tried to pull the bird
+out. Then a clamor arose, in the midst of which one could distinguish
+the shrill voices and the joyful leaps of the children. And there was a
+triumphal entry. Gervaise carried the goose, her arms stiff, and her
+perspiring face expanded in one broad silent laugh; the women walked
+behind her, laughing in the same way; whilst Nana, right at the end,
+raised herself up to see, her eyes open to their full extent. When the
+enormous golden goose, streaming with gravy, was on the table, they did
+not attack it at once. It was a wonder, a respectful wonderment, which
+for a moment left everyone speechless. They drew one another’s
+attention to it with winks and nods of the head. Golly! What a bird!
+
+“That one didn’t get fat by licking the walls, I’ll bet!” said Boche.
+
+Then they entered into details respecting the bird. Gervaise gave the
+facts. It was the best she could get at the poulterer’s in the Faubourg
+Poissonniers; it weighed twelve and a half pounds on the scales at the
+charcoal-dealer’s; they had burnt nearly half a bushel of charcoal in
+cooking it, and it had given three bowls full of drippings.
+
+Virginie interrupted her to boast of having seen it before it was
+cooked. “You could have eaten it just as it was,” she said, “its skin
+was so fine, like the skin of a blonde.” All the men laughed at this,
+smacking their lips. Lorilleux and Madame Lorilleux sniffed
+disdainfully, almost choking with rage to see such a goose on
+Clump-clump’s table.
+
+“Well! We can’t eat it whole,” the laundress observed. “Who’ll cut it
+up? No, no, not me! It’s too big; I’m afraid of it.”
+
+Coupeau offered his services. _Mon Dieu!_ it was very simple. You
+caught hold of the limbs, and pulled them off; the pieces were good all
+the same. But the others protested; they forcibly took possession of
+the large kitchen knife which the zinc-worker already held in his hand,
+saying that whenever he carved he made a regular graveyard of the
+platter. Finally, Madame Lerat suggested in a friendly tone:
+
+“Listen, it should be Monsieur Poisson; yes, Monsieur Poisson.”
+
+But, as the others did not appear to understand, she added in a more
+flattering manner still:
+
+“Why, yes, of course, it should be Monsieur Poisson, who’s accustomed
+to the use of arms.”
+
+And she passed the kitchen knife to the policeman. All round the table
+they laughed with pleasure and approval. Poisson bowed his head with
+military stiffness, and moved the goose before him. When he thrust the
+knife into the goose, which cracked, Lorilleux was seized with an
+outburst of patriotism.
+
+“Ah! if it was a Cossack!” he cried.
+
+“Have you ever fought with Cossacks, Monsieur Poisson?” asked Madame
+Boche.
+
+“No, but I have with Bedouins,” replied the policeman, who was cutting
+off a wing. “There are no more Cossacks.”
+
+A great silence ensued. Necks were stretched out as every eye followed
+the knife. Poisson was preparing a surprise. Suddenly he gave a last
+cut; the hind-quarter of the bird came off and stood up on end, rump in
+the air, making a bishop’s mitre. Then admiration burst forth. None
+were so agreeable in company as retired soldiers.
+
+The policeman allowed several minutes for the company to admire the
+bishop’s mitre and then finished cutting the slices and arranging them
+on the platter. The carving of the goose was now complete.
+
+When the ladies complained that they were getting rather warm, Coupeau
+opened the door to the street and the gaiety continued against the
+background of cabs rattling down the street and pedestrians bustling
+along the pavement. The goose was attacked furiously by the rested
+jaws. Boche remarked that just having to wait and watch the goose being
+carved had been enough to make the veal and pork slide down to his
+ankles.
+
+Then ensued a famous tuck-in; that is to say, not one of the party
+recollected ever having before run the risk of such a stomach-ache.
+Gervaise, looking enormous, her elbows on the table, ate great pieces
+of breast, without uttering a word, for fear of losing a mouthful, and
+merely felt slightly ashamed and annoyed at exhibiting herself thus, as
+gluttonous as a cat before Goujet. Goujet, however, was too busy
+stuffing himself to notice that she was all red with eating. Besides,
+in spite of her greediness, she remained so nice and good! She did not
+speak, but she troubled herself every minute to look after Pere Bru,
+and place some dainty bit on his plate. It was even touching to see
+this glutton take a piece of wing almost from her mouth to give it to
+the old fellow, who did not appear to be very particular, and who
+swallowed everything with bowed head, almost besotted from having
+gobbled so much after he had forgotten the taste of bread. The
+Lorilleuxs expended their rage on the roast goose; they ate enough to
+last them three days; they would have stowed away the dish, the table,
+the very shop, if they could have ruined Clump-clump by doing so. All
+the ladies had wanted a piece of the breast, traditionally the ladies’
+portion. Madame Lerat, Madame Boche, Madame Putois, were all picking
+bones; whilst mother Coupeau, who adored the neck, was tearing off the
+flesh with her two last teeth. Virginie liked the skin when it was
+nicely browned, and the other guests gallantly passed their skin to
+her; so much so, that Poisson looked at his wife severely, and bade her
+stop, because she had had enough as it was. Once already, she had been
+a fortnight in bed, with her stomach swollen out, through having eaten
+too much roast goose. But Coupeau got angry and helped Virginie to the
+upper part of a leg, saying that, by Jove’s thunder! if she did not
+pick it, she wasn’t a proper woman. Had roast goose ever done harm to
+anybody? On the contrary, it cured all complaints of the spleen. One
+could eat it without bread, like dessert. He could go on swallowing it
+all night without being the least bit inconvenienced; and, just to show
+off, he stuffed a whole drum-stick into his mouth. Meanwhile, Clemence
+had got to the end of the rump, and was sucking it with her lips,
+whilst she wriggled with laughter on her chair because Boche was
+whispering all sorts of smutty things to her. Ah, by Jove! Yes, there
+was a dinner! When one’s at it, one’s at it, you know; and if one only
+has the chance now and then, one would be precious stupid not to stuff
+oneself up to one’s ears. Really, one could see their sides puff out by
+degrees. They were cracking in their skins, the blessed gormandizers!
+With their mouths open, their chins besmeared with grease, they had
+such bloated red faces that one would have said they were bursting with
+prosperity.
+
+As for the wine, well, that was flowing as freely around the table as
+water flows in the Seine. It was like a brook overflowing after a
+rainstorm when the soil is parched. Coupeau raised the bottle high when
+pouring to see the red jet foam in the glass. Whenever he emptied a
+bottle, he would turn it upside down and shake it. One more dead
+solder! In a corner of the laundry the pile of dead soldiers grew
+larger and larger, a veritable cemetery of bottles onto which other
+debris from the table was tossed.
+
+Coupeau became indignant when Madame Putois asked for water. He took
+all the water pitchers from the table. Do respectable citizens ever
+drink water? Did she want to grow frogs in her stomach?
+
+Many glasses were emptied at one gulp. You could hear the liquid
+gurgling its way down the throats like rainwater in a drainpipe after a
+storm. One might say it was raining wine. _Mon Dieu!_ the juice of the
+grape was a remarkable invention. Surely the workingman couldn’t get
+along without his wine. Papa Noah must have planted his grapevine for
+the benefit of zinc-workers, tailors and blacksmiths. It brightened you
+up and refreshed you after a hard day’s work.
+
+Coupeau was in a high mood. He proclaimed that all the ladies present
+were very cute, and jingled the three sous in his pocket as if they had
+been five-franc pieces.
+
+Even Goujet, who was ordinarily very sober, had taken plenty of wine.
+Boche’s eyes were narrowing, those of Lorilleux were paling, and
+Poisson was developing expressions of stern severity on his soldierly
+face. All the men were as drunk as lords and the ladies had reached a
+certain point also, feeling so warm that they had to loosen their
+clothes. Only Clemence carried this a bit too far.
+
+Suddenly Gervaise recollected the six sealed bottles of wine. She had
+forgotten to put them on the table with the goose; she fetched them,
+and all the glasses were filled. Then Poisson rose, and holding his
+glass in the air, said:
+
+“I drink to the health of the missus.”
+
+All of them stood up, making a great noise with their chairs as they
+moved. Holding out their arms, they clinked glasses in the midst of an
+immense uproar.
+
+“Here’s to this day fifty years hence!” cried Virginie.
+
+“No, no,” replied Gervaise, deeply moved and smiling; “I shall be too
+old. Ah! a day comes when one’s glad to go.”
+
+Through the door, which was wide open, the neighborhood was looking on
+and taking part in the festivities. Passers-by stopped in the broad ray
+of light which shone over the pavement, and laughed heartily at seeing
+all these people stuffing away so jovially.
+
+The aroma from the roasted goose brought joy to the whole street. The
+clerks on the sidewalk opposite thought they could almost taste the
+bird. Others came out frequently to stand in front of their shops,
+sniffing the air and licking their lips. The little jeweler was unable
+to work, dizzy from having counted so many bottles. He seemed to have
+lost his head among his merry little cuckoo clocks.
+
+Yes, the neighbors were devoured with envy, as Coupeau said. But why
+should there be any secret made about the matter? The party, now fairly
+launched, was no longer ashamed of being seen at table; on the
+contrary, it felt flattered and excited at seeing the crowd gathered
+there, gaping with gluttony; it would have liked to have knocked out
+the shop-front and dragged the table into the road-way, and there to
+have enjoyed the dessert under the very nose of the public, and amidst
+the commotion of the thoroughfare. Nothing disgusting was to be seen in
+them, was there? Then there was no need to shut themselves in like
+selfish people. Coupeau, noticing the little clockmaker looked very
+thirsty, held up a bottle; and as the other nodded his head, he carried
+him the bottle and a glass. A fraternity was established in the street.
+They drank to anyone who passed. They called in any chaps who looked
+the right sort. The feast spread, extending from one to another, to the
+degree that the entire neighborhood of the Goutte-d’Or sniffed the
+grub, and held its stomach, amidst a rumpus worthy of the devil and all
+his demons. For some minutes, Madame Vigouroux, the charcoal-dealer,
+had been passing to and fro before the door.
+
+“Hi! Madame Vigouroux! Madame Vigouroux!” yelled the party.
+
+She entered with a broad grin on her face, which was washed for once,
+and so fat that the body of her dress was bursting. The men liked
+pinching her, because they might pinch her all over without ever
+encountering a bone. Boche made room for her beside him and reached
+slyly under the table to grab her knee. But she, being accustomed to
+that sort of thing, quietly tossed off a glass of wine, and related
+that all the neighbors were at their windows, and that some of the
+people of the house were beginning to get angry.
+
+“Oh, that’s our business,” said Madame Boche. “We’re the concierges,
+aren’t we? Well, we’re answerable for good order. Let them come and
+complain to us, we’ll receive them in a way they don’t expect.”
+
+In the back-room there had just been a furious fight between Nana and
+Augustine, on account of the Dutch oven, which both wanted to scrape
+out. For a quarter of an hour, the Dutch oven had rebounded over the
+tile floor with the noise of an old saucepan. Nana was now nursing
+little Victor, who had a goose-bone in his throat. She pushed her
+fingers under his chin, and made him swallow big lumps of sugar by way
+of a remedy. That did not prevent her keeping an eye on the big table.
+At every minute she came and asked for wine, bread, or meat, for
+Etienne and Pauline, she said.
+
+“Here! Burst!” her mother would say to her. “Perhaps you’ll leave us in
+peace now!”
+
+The children were scarcely able to swallow any longer, but they
+continued to eat all the same, banging their forks down on the table to
+the tune of a canticle, in order to excite themselves.
+
+In the midst of the noise, however, a conversation was going on between
+Pere Bru and mother Coupeau. The old fellow, who was ghastly pale in
+spite of the wine and the food, was talking of his sons who had died in
+the Crimea. Ah! if the lads had only lived, he would have had bread to
+eat every day. But mother Coupeau, speaking thickly, leant towards him
+and said:
+
+“Ah! one has many worries with children! For instance, I appear to be
+happy here, don’t I? Well! I cry more often than you think. No, don’t
+wish you still had your children.”
+
+Pere Bru shook his head.
+
+“I can’t get work anywhere,” murmured he. “I’m too old. When I enter a
+workshop the young fellows joke, and ask me if I polished Henri IV.’s
+boots. To-day it’s all over; they won’t have me anywhere. Last year I
+could still earn thirty sous a day painting a bridge. I had to lie on
+my back with the river flowing under me. I’ve had a bad cough ever
+since then. Now, I’m finished.”
+
+He looked at his poor stiff hands and added:
+
+“It’s easy to understand, I’m no longer good for anything. They’re
+right; were I in their place I should do the same. You see, the
+misfortune is that I’m not dead. Yes, it’s my fault. One should lie
+down and croak when one’s no longer able to work.”
+
+“Really,” said Lorilleux, who was listening, “I don’t understand why
+the Government doesn’t come to the aid of the invalids of labor. I was
+reading that in a newspaper the other day.”
+
+But Poisson thought it his duty to defend the Government.
+
+“Workmen are not soldiers,” declared he. “The Invalides is for
+soldiers. You must not ask for what is impossible.”
+
+Dessert was now served. In the centre of the table was a Savoy cake in
+the form of a temple, with a dome fluted with melon slices; and this
+dome was surmounted by an artificial rose, close to which was a silver
+paper butterfly, fluttering at the end of a wire. Two drops of gum in
+the centre of the flower imitated dew. Then, to the left, a piece of
+cream cheese floated in a deep dish; whilst in another dish to the
+right, were piled up some large crushed strawberries, with the juice
+running from them. However, there was still some salad left, some large
+coss lettuce leaves soaked with oil.
+
+“Come, Madame Boche,” said Gervaise, coaxingly, “a little more salad. I
+know how fond you are of it.”
+
+“No, no, thank you! I’ve already had as much as I can manage,” replied
+the concierge.
+
+The laundress turning towards Virginie, the latter put her finger in
+her mouth, as though to touch the food she had taken.
+
+“Really, I’m full,” murmured she. “There’s no room left. I couldn’t
+swallow a mouthful.”
+
+“Oh! but if you tried a little,” resumed Gervaise with a smile. “One
+can always find a tiny corner empty. Once doesn’t need to be hungry to
+be able to eat salad. You’re surely not going to let this be wasted?”
+
+“You can eat it to-morrow,” said Madame Lerat; “it’s nicer when its
+wilted.”
+
+The ladies sighed as they looked regretfully at the salad-bowl.
+Clemence related that she had one day eaten three bunches of
+watercresses at her lunch. Madame Putois could do more than that, she
+would take a coss lettuce and munch it up with some salt just as it was
+without separating the leaves. They could all have lived on salad,
+would have treated themselves to tubfuls. And, this conversation
+aiding, the ladies cleaned out the salad-bowl.
+
+“I could go on all fours in a meadow,” observed the concierge with her
+mouth full.
+
+Then they chuckled together as they eyed the dessert. Dessert did not
+count. It came rather late but that did not matter; they would nurse it
+all the same. When you’re that stuffed, you can’t let yourself be
+stopped by strawberries and cake. There was no hurry. They had the
+entire night if they wished. So they piled their plates with
+strawberries and cream cheese. Meanwhile the men lit their pipes. They
+were drinking the ordinary wine while they smoked since the special
+wine had been finished. Now they insisted that Gervaise cut the Savoy
+cake. Poisson got up and took the rose from the cake and presented it
+in his most gallant manner to the hostess amidst applause from the
+other guests. She pinned it over her left breast, near the heart. The
+silver butterfly fluttered with her every movement.
+
+“Well, look,” exclaimed Lorilleux, who had just made a discovery, “it’s
+your work-table that we’re eating off! Ah, well! I daresay it’s never
+seen so much work before!”
+
+This malicious joke had a great success. Witty allusions came from all
+sides. Clemence could not swallow a spoonful of strawberries without
+saying that it was another shirt ironed; Madame Lerat pretended that
+the cream cheese smelt of starch; whilst Madame Lorilleux said between
+her teeth that it was capital fun to gobble up the money so quickly on
+the very boards on which one had had so much trouble to earn it. There
+was quite a tempest of shouts and laughter.
+
+But suddenly a loud voice called for silence. It was Boche who,
+standing up in an affected and vulgar way, was commencing to sing “The
+Volcano of Love, or the Seductive Trooper.”
+
+A thunder of applause greeted the first verse. Yes, yes, they would
+sing songs! Everyone in turn. It was more amusing than anything else.
+And they all put their elbows on the table or leant back in their
+chairs, nodding their heads at the best parts and sipping their wine
+when they came to the choruses. That rogue Boche had a special gift for
+comic songs. He would almost make the water pitchers laugh when he
+imitated the raw recruit with his fingers apart and his hat on the back
+of his head. Directly after “The Volcano of Love,” he burst out into
+“The Baroness de Follebiche,” one of his greatest successes. When he
+reached the third verse he turned towards Clemence and almost murmured
+it in a slow and voluptuous tone of voice:
+
+“The baroness had people there,
+Her sisters four, oh! rare surprise;
+And three were dark, and one was fair;
+Between them, eight bewitching eyes.”
+
+
+Then the whole party, carried away, joined in the chorus. The men beat
+time with their heels, whilst the ladies did the same with their knives
+against their glasses. All of them singing at the top of their voices:
+
+“By Jingo! who on earth will pay
+A drink to the pa—to the pa—pa—?
+By Jingo! who on earth will pay
+A drink to the pa—to the pa—tro—o—l?”
+
+
+The panes of glass of the shop-front resounded, the singers’ great
+volume of breath agitated the muslin curtains. Whilst all this was
+going on, Virginie had already twice disappeared and each time, on
+returning, had leant towards Gervaise’s ear to whisper a piece of
+information. When she returned the third time, in the midst of the
+uproar, she said to her:
+
+“My dear, he’s still at Francois’s; he’s pretending to read the
+newspaper. He’s certainly meditating some evil design.”
+
+She was speaking of Lantier. It was him that she had been watching. At
+each fresh report Gervaise became more and more grave.
+
+“Is he drunk?” asked she of Virginie.
+
+“No,” replied the tall brunette. “He looks as though he had merely had
+what he required. It’s that especially which makes me anxious. Why does
+he remain there if he’s had all he wanted? _Mon Dieu!_ I hope nothing
+is going to happen!”
+
+The laundress, greatly upset, begged her to leave off. A profound
+silence suddenly succeeded the clamor. Madame Putois had just risen and
+was about to sing “The Boarding of the Pirate.” The guests, silent and
+thoughtful, watched her; even Poisson had laid his pipe down on the
+edge of the table the better to listen to her. She stood up to the full
+height of her little figure, with a fierce expression about her, though
+her face looked quite pale beneath her black cap; she thrust out her
+left fist with a satisfied pride as she thundered in a voice bigger
+than herself:
+
+“If the pirate audacious
+Should o’er the waves chase us,
+The buccaneer slaughter,
+Accord him no quarter.
+To the guns every man,
+And with rum fill each can!
+While these pests of the seas
+Dangle from the cross-trees.”
+
+
+That was something serious. By Jove! it gave one a fine idea of the
+real thing. Poisson, who had been on board ship nodded his head in
+approval of the description. One could see too that that song was in
+accordance with Madame Putois’s own feeling. Coupeau then told how
+Madame Putois, one evening on Rue Poulet, had slapped the face of four
+men who sought to attack her virtue.
+
+With the assistance of mother Coupeau, Gervaise was now serving the
+coffee, though some of the guests had not yet finished their Savoy
+cake. They would not let her sit down again, but shouted that it was
+her turn. With a pale face, and looking very ill at ease, she tried to
+excuse herself; she seemed so queer that someone inquired whether the
+goose had disagreed with her. She finally gave them “Oh! let me
+slumber!” in a sweet and feeble voice. When she reached the chorus with
+its wish for a sleep filled with beautiful dreams, her eyelids partly
+closed and her rapt gaze lost itself in the darkness of the street.
+
+Poisson stood next and with an abrupt bow to the ladies, sang a
+drinking song: “The Wines of France.” But his voice wasn’t very musical
+and only the final verse, a patriotic one mentioning the tricolor flag,
+was a success. Then he raised his glass high, juggled it a moment, and
+poured the contents into his open mouth.
+
+Then came a string of ballads; Madame Boche’s barcarolle was all about
+Venice and the gondoliers; Madame Lorilleux sang of Seville and the
+Andalusians in her bolero; whilst Lorilleux went so far as to allude to
+the perfumes of Arabia, in reference to the loves of Fatima the dancer.
+
+Golden horizons were opening up all around the heavily laden table. The
+men were smoking their pipes and the women unconsciously smiling with
+pleasure. All were dreaming they were far away.
+
+Clemence began to sing softly “Let’s Make a Nest” with a tremolo in her
+voice which pleased them greatly for it made them think of the open
+country, of songbirds, of dancing beneath an arbor, and of flowers. In
+short, it made them think of the Bois de Vincennes when they went there
+for a picnic.
+
+But Virginie revived the joking with “My Little Drop of Brandy.” She
+imitated a camp follower, with one hand on her hip, the elbow arched to
+indicate the little barrel; and with the other hand she poured out the
+brandy into space by turning her fist round. She did it so well that
+the party then begged mother Coupeau to sing “The Mouse.” The old woman
+refused, vowing that she did not know that naughty song. Yet she
+started off with the remnants of her broken voice; and her wrinkled
+face with its lively little eyes underlined the allusions, the terrors
+of Mademoiselle Lise drawing her skirts around her at the sight of a
+mouse. All the table laughed; the women could not keep their
+countenances, and continued casting bright glances at their neighbors;
+it was not indecent after all, there were no coarse words in it. All
+during the song Boche was playing mouse up and down the legs of the
+lady coal-dealer. Things might have gotten a bit out of line if Goujet,
+in response to a glance from Gervaise, had not brought back the
+respectful silence with “The Farewell of Abdul-Kader,” which he sang
+out loudly in his bass voice. The song rang out from his golden beard
+as if from a brass trumpet. All the hearts skipped a beat when he
+cried, “Ah, my noble comrade!” referring to the warrior’s black mare.
+They burst into applause even before the end.
+
+“Now, Pere Bru, it’s your turn!” said mother Coupeau. “Sing your song.
+The old ones are the best any day!”
+
+And everybody turned towards the old man, pressing him and encouraging
+him. He, in a state of torpor, with his immovable mask of tanned skin,
+looked at them without appearing to understand. They asked him if he
+knew the “Five Vowels.” He held down his head; he could not recollect
+it; all the songs of the good old days were mixed up in his head. As
+they made up their minds to leave him alone, he seemed to remember, and
+began to stutter in a cavernous voice:
+
+“Trou la la, trou la la,
+Trou la, trou la, trou la la!”
+
+
+His face assumed an animated expression, this chorus seemed to awake
+some far-off gaieties within him, enjoyed by himself alone, as he
+listened with a childish delight to his voice which became more and
+more hollow.
+
+“Say there, my dear,” Virginie came and whispered in Gervaise’s ear,
+“I’ve just been there again, you know. It worried me. Well! Lantier has
+disappeared from Francois’s.”
+
+“You didn’t meet him outside?” asked the laundress.
+
+“No, I walked quickly, not as if I was looking for him.”
+
+But Virginie raised her eyes, interrupted herself and heaved a
+smothered sigh.
+
+“Ah! _Mon Dieu!_ He’s there, on the pavement opposite; he’s looking
+this way.”
+
+Gervaise, quite beside herself, ventured to glance in the direction
+indicated. Some persons had collected in the street to hear the party
+sing. And Lantier was indeed there in the front row, listening and
+coolly looking on. It was rare cheek, everything considered. Gervaise
+felt a chill ascend from her legs to her heart, and she no longer dared
+to move, whilst old Bru continued:
+
+“Trou la la, trou la la,
+Trou la, trou la, trou la la!”
+
+
+“Very good. Thank you, my ancient one, that’s enough!” said Coupeau.
+“Do you know the whole of it? You shall sing it for us another day when
+we need something sad.”
+
+This raised a few laughs. The old fellow stopped short, glanced round
+the table with his pale eyes and resumed his look of a meditative
+animal. Coupeau called for more wine as the coffee was finished.
+Clemence was eating strawberries again. With the pause in singing, they
+began to talk about a woman who had been found hanging that morning in
+the building next door. It was Madame Lerat’s turn, but she required to
+prepare herself. She dipped the corner of her napkin into a glass of
+water and applied it to her temples because she was too hot. Then, she
+asked for a thimbleful of brandy, drank it, and slowly wiped her lips.
+
+“The ‘Child of God,’ shall it be?” she murmured, “the ‘Child of God.’”
+
+And, tall and masculine-looking, with her bony nose and her shoulders
+as square as a grenadier’s she began:
+
+“The lost child left by its mother alone
+Is sure of a home in Heaven above,
+God sees and protects it on earth from His throne,
+The child that is lost is the child of God’s love.”
+
+
+Her voice trembled at certain words, and dwelt on them in liquid notes;
+she looked out of the corner of her eyes to heaven, whilst her right
+hand swung before her chest or pressed against her heart with an
+impressive gesture. Then Gervaise, tortured by Lantier’s presence,
+could not restrain her tears; it seemed to her that the song was
+relating her own suffering, that she was the lost child, abandoned by
+its mother, and whom God was going to take under his protection.
+Clemence was now very drunk and she burst into loud sobbing and placed
+her head down onto the table in an effort to smother her gasps. There
+was a hush vibrant with emotion.
+
+The ladies had pulled out their handkerchiefs, and were drying their
+eyes, with their heads erect from pride. The men had bowed their heads
+and were staring straight before them, blinking back their tears.
+Poisson bit off the end of his pipe twice while gulping and gasping.
+Boche, with two large tears trickling down his face, wasn’t even
+bothering to squeeze the coal-dealer’s knee any longer. All these drunk
+revelers were as soft-hearted as lambs. Wasn’t the wine almost coming
+out of their eyes? When the refrain began again, they all let
+themselves go, blubbering into their plates.
+
+But Gervaise and Virginie could not, in spite of themselves, take their
+eyes off the pavement opposite. Madame Boche, in her turn, caught sight
+of Lantier and uttered a faint cry without ceasing to besmear her face
+with her tears. Then all three had very anxious faces as they exchanged
+involuntary signs. _Mon Dieu!_ if Coupeau were to turn round, if
+Coupeau caught sight of the other! What a butchery! What carnage! And
+they went on to such an extent that the zinc-worker asked them:
+
+“Whatever are you looking at?”
+
+He leant forward and recognized Lantier.
+
+“Damnation! It’s too much,” muttered he. “Ah! the dirty scoundrel—ah!
+the dirty scoundrel. No, it’s too much, it must come to an end.”
+
+And as he rose from his seat muttering most atrocious threats,
+Gervaise, in a low voice, implored him to keep quiet.
+
+“Listen to me, I implore you. Leave the knife alone. Remain where you
+are, don’t do anything dreadful.”
+
+Virginie had to take the knife which he had picked up off the table
+from him. But she could not prevent him leaving the shop and going up
+to Lantier.
+
+Those around the table saw nothing of this, so involved were they in
+weeping over the song as Madame Lerat sang the last verse. It sounded
+like a moaning wail of the wind and Madame Putois was so moved that she
+spilled her wine over the table. Gervaise remained frozen with fright,
+one hand tight against her lips to stifle her sobs. She expected at any
+moment to see one of the two men fall unconscious in the street.
+
+As Coupeau rushed toward Lantier, he was so astonished by the fresh air
+that he staggered, and Lantier, with his hands in his pockets, merely
+took a step to the side. Now the two men were almost shouting at each
+other, Coupeau calling the other a lousy pig and threatening to make
+sausage of his guts. They were shouting loudly and angrily and waving
+their arms violently. Gervaise felt faint and as it continued for a
+while, she closed her eyes. Suddenly, she didn’t hear any shouting and
+opened her eyes. The two men were chatting amiably together.
+
+Madame Lerat’s voice rose higher and higher, warbling another verse.
+
+Gervaise exchanged a glance with Madame Boche and Virginie. Was it
+going to end amicably then? Coupeau and Lantier continued to converse
+on the edge of the pavement. They were still abusing each other, but in
+a friendly way. As people were staring at them, they ended by strolling
+leisurely side by side past the houses, turning round again every ten
+yards or so. A very animated conversation was now taking place.
+Suddenly Coupeau appeared to become angry again, whilst the other was
+refusing something and required to be pressed. And it was the
+zinc-worker who pushed Lantier along and who forced him to cross the
+street and enter the shop.
+
+“I tell you, you’re quite welcome!” shouted he. “You’ll take a glass of
+wine. Men are men, you know. We ought to understand each other.”
+
+Madame Lerat was finishing the last chorus. The ladies were singing all
+together as they twisted their handkerchiefs.
+
+“The child that is lost is the child of God’s love.”
+
+The singer was greatly complimented and she resumed her seat affecting
+to be quite broken down. She asked for something to drink because she
+always put too much feeling into that song and she was constantly
+afraid of straining her vocal chords. Everyone at the table now had
+their eyes fixed on Lantier who, quietly seated beside Coupeau, was
+devouring the last piece of Savoy cake which he dipped in his glass of
+wine. With the exception of Virginie and Madame Boche none of the
+guests knew him. The Lorilleuxs certainly scented some underhand
+business, but not knowing what, they merely assumed their most
+conceited air. Goujet, who had noticed Gervaise’s emotion, gave the
+newcomer a sour look. As an awkward pause ensued Coupeau simply said:
+
+“A friend of mine.”
+
+And turning to his wife, added:
+
+“Come, stir yourself! Perhaps there’s still some hot coffee left.”
+
+Gervaise, feeling meek and stupid, looked at them one after the other.
+At first, when her husband pushed her old lover into the shop, she
+buried her head between her hands, the same as she instinctively did on
+stormy days at each clap of thunder. She could not believe it possible;
+the walls would fall in and crush them all. Then, when she saw the two
+sitting together peacefully, she suddenly accepted it as quite natural.
+A happy feeling of languor benumbed her, retained her all in a heap at
+the edge of the table, with the sole desire of not being bothered. _Mon
+Dieu!_ what is the use of putting oneself out when others do not, and
+when things arrange themselves to the satisfaction of everybody? She
+got up to see if there was any coffee left.
+
+In the back-room the children had fallen asleep. That squint-eyed
+Augustine had tyrannized over them all during the dessert, pilfering
+their strawberries and frightening them with the most abominable
+threats. Now she felt very ill, and was bent double upon a stool, not
+uttering a word, her face ghastly pale. Fat Pauline had let her head
+fall against Etienne’s shoulder, and he himself was sleeping on the
+edge of the table. Nana was seated with Victor on the rug beside the
+bedstead, she had passed her arm round his neck and was drawing him
+towards her; and, succumbing to drowsiness and with her eyes shut, she
+kept repeating in a feeble voice:
+
+“Oh! Mamma, I’m not well; oh! mamma, I’m not well.”
+
+“No wonder!” murmured Augustine, whose head was rolling about on her
+shoulders, “they’re drunk; they’ve been singing like grown up persons.”
+
+Gervaise received another blow on beholding Etienne. She felt as though
+she would choke when she thought of the youngster’s father being there
+in the other room, eating cake, and that he had not even expressed a
+desire to kiss the little fellow. She was on the point of rousing
+Etienne and of carrying him there in her arms. Then she again felt that
+the quiet way in which matters had been arranged was the best. It would
+not have been proper to have disturbed the harmony of the end of the
+dinner. She returned with the coffee-pot and poured out a glass of
+coffee for Lantier, who, by the way, did not appear to take any notice
+of her.
+
+“Now, it’s my turn,” stuttered Coupeau, in a thick voice. “You’ve been
+keeping the best for the last. Well! I’ll sing you ‘That Piggish
+Child.’”
+
+“Yes, yes, ‘That Piggish Child,’” cried everyone.
+
+The uproar was beginning again. Lantier was forgotten. The ladies
+prepared their glasses and their knives for accompanying the chorus.
+They laughed beforehand, as they looked at the zinc-worker, who
+steadied himself on his legs as he put on his most vulgar air.
+Mimicking the hoarse voice of an old woman, he sang:
+
+“When out of bed each morn I hop,
+I’m always precious queer;
+I send him for a little drop
+To the drinking-den that’s near.
+A good half hour or more he’ll stay,
+And that makes me so riled,
+He swigs it half upon his way:
+What a piggish child!”
+
+
+And the ladies, striking their glasses, repeated in chorus in the midst
+of a formidable gaiety:
+
+“What a piggish child!
+What a piggish child!”
+
+
+Even the Rue de la Goutte-d’Or itself joined in now. The whole
+neighborhood was singing “What a piggish child!” The little clockmaker,
+the grocery clerks, the tripe woman and the fruit woman all knew the
+song and joined in the chorus. The entire street seemed to be getting
+drunk on the odors from the Coupeau party. In the reddish haze from the
+two lamps, the noise of the party was enough to shut out the rumbling
+of the last vehicles in the street. Two policemen rushed over, thinking
+there was a riot, but on recognizing Poisson, they saluted him smartly
+and went away between the darkened buildings.
+
+Coupeau was now singing this verse:
+
+“On Sundays at Petite Villette,
+Whene’er the weather’s fine,
+We call on uncle, old Tinette,
+Who’s in the dustman line.
+To feast upon some cherry stones
+The young un’s almost wild,
+And rolls amongst the dust and bones,
+What a piggish child!
+What a piggish child!”
+
+
+Then the house almost collapsed, such a yell ascended in the calm warm
+night air that the shouters applauded themselves, for it was useless
+their hoping to be able to bawl any louder.
+
+Not one of the party could ever recollect exactly how the carouse
+terminated. It must have been very late, it’s quite certain, for not a
+cat was to be seen in the street. Possibly too, they had all joined
+hands and danced round the table. But all was submerged in a yellow
+mist, in which red faces were jumping about, with mouths slit from ear
+to ear. They had probably treated themselves to something stronger than
+wine towards the end, and there was a vague suspicion that some one had
+played them the trick of putting salt into the glasses. The children
+must have undressed and put themselves to bed. On the morrow, Madame
+Boche boasted of having treated Boche to a couple of clouts in a
+corner, where he was conversing a great deal too close to the
+charcoal-dealer; but Boche, who recollected nothing, said she must have
+dreamt it. Everyone agreed that it wasn’t very decent the way Clemence
+had carried on. She had ended by showing everything she had and then
+been so sick that she had completely ruined one of the muslin curtains.
+The men had at least the decency to go into the street; Lorilleux and
+Poisson, feeling their stomachs upset, had stumblingly glided as far as
+the pork-butcher’s shop. It is easy to see when a person has been well
+brought up. For instance, the ladies, Madame Putois, Madame Lerat, and
+Virginie, indisposed by the heat, had simply gone into the back-room
+and taken their stays off; Virginie had even desired to lie on the bed
+for a minute, just to obviate any unpleasant effects. Thus the party
+had seemed to melt away, some disappearing behind the others, all
+accompanying one another, and being lost sight of in the surrounding
+darkness, to the accompaniment of a final uproar, a furious quarrel
+between the Lorilleuxs, and an obstinate and mournful “trou la la, trou
+la la,” of old Bru’s. Gervaise had an idea that Goujet had burst out
+sobbing when bidding her good-bye; Coupeau was still singing; and as
+for Lantier, he must have remained till the end. At one moment even,
+she could still feel a breath against her hair, but she was unable to
+say whether it came from Lantier or if it was the warm night air.
+
+Since Madame Lerat didn’t want to return to Les Batignolles at such a
+late hour, they took one of the mattresses off the bed and spread it
+for her in a corner of the shop, after pushing back the table. She
+slept right there amid all the dinner crumbs. All night long, while the
+Coupeaus were sleeping, a neighbor’s cat took advantage of an open
+window and was crunching the bones of the goose with its sharp teeth,
+giving the bird its final resting place.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VIII
+
+
+On the following Saturday Coupeau, who had not come home to dinner,
+brought Lantier with him towards ten o’clock. They had had some sheep’s
+trotters at Chez Thomas at Montmartre.
+
+“You mustn’t scold, wife,” said the zinc-worker. “We’re sober, as you
+can see. Oh! there’s no fear with him; he keeps one on the straight
+road.”
+
+And he related how they happened to meet in the Rue Rochechouart. After
+dinner Lantier had declined to have a drink at the “Black Ball,” saying
+that when one was married to a pretty and worthy little woman, one
+ought not to go liquoring-up at all the wineshops. Gervaise smiled
+slightly as she listened. Oh! she was not thinking of scolding, she
+felt too much embarrassed for that. She had been expecting to see her
+former lover again some day ever since their dinner party; but at such
+an hour, when she was about to go to bed, the unexpected arrival of the
+two men had startled her. Her hands were quivering as she pinned back
+the hair which had slid down her neck.
+
+“You know,” resumed Coupeau, “as he was so polite as to decline a drink
+outside, you must treat us to one here. Ah! you certainly owe us that!”
+
+The workwomen had left long ago. Mother Coupeau and Nana had just gone
+to bed. Gervaise, who had been just about to put up the shutters when
+they appeared, left the shop open and brought some glasses which she
+placed on a corner of the work-table with what was left of a bottle of
+brandy.
+
+Lantier remained standing and avoided speaking directly to her.
+However, when she served him, he exclaimed:
+
+“Only a thimbleful, madame, if you please.”
+
+Coupeau looked at them and then spoke his mind very plainly. They were
+not going to behave like a couple of geese he hoped! The past was past
+was it not? If people nursed grudges for nine and ten years together
+one would end by no longer seeing anybody. No, no, he carried his heart
+in his hand, he did! First of all, he knew who he had to deal with, a
+worthy woman and a worthy man—in short two friends! He felt easy; he
+knew he could depend upon them.
+
+“Oh! that’s certain, quite certain,” repeated Gervaise, looking on the
+ground and scarcely understanding what she said.
+
+“She is a sister now—nothing but a sister!” murmured Lantier in his
+turn.
+
+“_Mon Dieu!_ shake hands,” cried Coupeau, “and let those who don’t like
+it go to blazes! When one has proper feelings one is better off than
+millionaires. For myself I prefer friendship before everything because
+friendship is friendship and there’s nothing to beat it.”
+
+He dealt himself heavy blows on the chest, and seemed so moved that
+they had to calm him. They all three silently clinked glasses, and
+drank their drop of brandy. Gervaise was then able to look at Lantier
+at her ease; for on the night of her saint’s day, she had only seen him
+through a fog. He had grown more stout, his arms and legs seeming too
+heavy because of his small stature. His face was still handsome even
+though it was a little puffy now due to his life of idleness. He still
+took great pains with his narrow moustache. He looked about his actual
+age. He was wearing grey trousers, a heavy blue overcoat, and a round
+hat. He even had a watch with a silver chain on which a ring was
+hanging as a keepsake. He looked quite like a gentleman.
+
+“I’m off,” said he. “I live no end of a distance from here.”
+
+He was already on the pavement when the zinc-worker called him back to
+make him promise never to pass the door without looking in to wish them
+good day. Meanwhile Gervaise, who had quietly disappeared, returned
+pushing Etienne before her. The child, who was in his shirt-sleeves and
+half asleep, smiled as he rubbed his eyes. But when he beheld Lantier
+he stood trembling and embarrassed, and casting anxious glances in the
+direction of his mother and Coupeau.
+
+“Don’t you remember this gentleman?” asked the latter.
+
+The child held down his head without replying. Then he made a slight
+sign which meant that he did remember the gentleman.
+
+“Well! Then, don’t stand there like a fool; go and kiss him.”
+
+Lantier gravely and quietly waited. When Etienne had made up his mind
+to approach him, he stooped down, presented both his cheeks, and then
+kissed the youngster on the forehead himself. At this the boy ventured
+to look at his father; but all on a sudden he burst out sobbing and
+scampered away like a mad creature with his clothes half falling off
+him, whilst Coupeau angrily called him a young savage.
+
+“The emotion’s too much for him,” said Gervaise, pale and agitated
+herself.
+
+“Oh! he’s generally very gentle and nice,” exclaimed Coupeau. “I’ve
+brought him up properly, as you’ll see. He’ll get used to you. He must
+learn to know people. We can’t stay mad. We should have made up a long
+time ago for his sake. I’d rather have my head cut off than keep a
+father from seeing his own son.”
+
+Having thus delivered himself, he talked of finishing the bottle of
+brandy. All three clinked glasses again. Lantier showed no surprise,
+but remained perfectly calm. By way of repaying the zinc-worker’s
+politeness he persisted in helping him put up the shutters before
+taking his departure. Then rubbing his hands together to get rid of the
+dust on them, he wished the couple good-night.
+
+“Sleep well. I shall try and catch the last bus. I promise you I’ll
+look in again soon.”
+
+After that evening Lantier frequently called at the Rue de la
+Goutte-d’Or. He came when the zinc-worker was there, inquiring after
+his health the moment he passed the door and affecting to have solely
+called on his account. Then clean-shaven, his hair nicely combed and
+always wearing his overcoat, he would take a seat by the window and
+converse politely with the manners of an educated man. It was thus that
+the Coupeaus learnt little by little the details of his life. During
+the last eight years he had for a while managed a hat factory; and when
+they asked him why he had retired from it he merely alluded to the
+rascality of a partner, a fellow from his native place, a scoundrel who
+had squandered all the takings with women. His former position as an
+employer continued to affect his entire personality, like a title of
+nobility that he could not abandon. He was always talking of concluding
+a magnificent deal with some hatmakers who were going to set him up in
+business. While waiting for this he did nothing but stroll around all
+day like one of the idle rich. If anyone dared to mention a hat factory
+looking for workers, he smiled and said he was not interested in
+breaking his back working for others.
+
+A smart fellow like Lantier, according to Coupeau, knew how to take
+care of himself. He always looked prosperous and it took money to look
+thus. He must have some deal going. One morning Coupeau had seen him
+having his shoes shined on the Boulevard Montmartre. Lantier was very
+talkative about others, but the truth was that he told lies about
+himself. He would not even say where he lived, only that he was staying
+with a friend and there was no use in coming to see him because he was
+never in.
+
+It was now early November. Lantier would gallantly bring bunches of
+violets for Gervaise and the workwomen. He was now coming almost every
+day. He won the favor of Clemence and Madame Putois with his little
+attentions. At the end of the month they adored him. The Boches, whom
+he flattered by going to pay his respects in their concierge’s lodge,
+went into ecstasies over his politeness.
+
+As soon as the Lorilleuxs knew who he was, they howled at the impudence
+of Gervaise in bringing her former lover into her home. However, one
+day Lantier went to visit them and made such a good impression when he
+ordered a necklace for a lady of his acquaintance that they invited him
+to sit down. He stayed an hour and they were so charmed by his
+conversation that they wondered how a man of such distinction had ever
+lived with Clump-clump. Soon Lantier’s visits to the Coupeaus were
+accepted as perfectly natural; he was in the good graces of everyone
+along the Rue de la Goutte-d’Or. Goujet was the only one who remained
+cold. If he happened to be there when Lantier arrived, he would leave
+at once as he didn’t want to be obliged to be friendly to him.
+
+In the midst, however, of all this extraordinary affection for Lantier,
+Gervaise lived in a state of great agitation for the first few weeks.
+She felt that burning sensation in the pit of her stomach which
+affected her on the day when Virginie first alluded to her past life.
+Her great fear was that she might find herself without strength, if he
+came upon her all alone one night and took it into his head to kiss
+her. She thought of him too much; she was for ever thinking of him. But
+she gradually became calmer on seeing him behave so well, never looking
+her in the face, never even touching her with the tips of his fingers
+when no one was watching. Then Virginie, who seemed to read within her,
+made her ashamed of all her wicked thoughts. Why did she tremble? Once
+could not hope to come across a nicer man. She certainly had nothing to
+fear now. And one day the tall brunette maneuvered in such a way as to
+get them both into a corner, and to turn the conversation to the
+subject of love. Lantier, choosing his words, declared in a grave voice
+that his heart was dead, that for the future he wished to consecrate
+his life solely for his son’s happiness. Every evening he would kiss
+Etienne on the forehead, yet he was apt to forget him in teasing back
+and forth with Clemence. And he never mentioned Claude who was still in
+the south. Gervaise began to feel at ease. Lantier’s actual presence
+overshadowed her memories, and seeing him all the time, she no longer
+dreamed about him. She even felt a certain repugnance at the thought of
+their former relationship. Yes, it was over. If he dared to approach
+her, she’d box his ears, or even better, she’d tell her husband. Once
+again her thoughts turned to Goujet and his affection for her.
+
+One morning Clemence reported that the previous night, at about eleven
+o’clock, she had seen Monsieur Lantier with a woman. She told about it
+maliciously and in coarse terms to see how Gervaise would react. Yes,
+Monsieur Lantier was on the Rue Notre Dame de Lorette with a blonde and
+she followed them. They had gone into a shop where the worn-out and
+used-up woman had bought some shrimps. Then they went to the Rue de La
+Rochefoucauld. Monsieur Lantier had waited on the pavement in front of
+the house while his lady friend went in alone. Then she had beckoned to
+him from the window to join her.
+
+No matter how Clemence went on with the story Gervaise went on
+peacefully ironing a white dress. Sometimes she smiled faintly. These
+southerners, she said, are all crazy about women; they have to have
+them no matter what, even if they come from a dung heap. When Lantier
+came in that evening, Gervaise was amused when Clemence teased him
+about the blonde. He seemed to feel flattered that he had been seen.
+_Mon Dieu!_ she was just an old friend, he explained. He saw her from
+time to time. She was quite stylish. He mentioned some of her former
+lovers, among them a count, an important merchant and the son of a
+lawyer. He added that a bit of playing around didn’t mean a thing, his
+heart was dead. In the end Clemence had to pay a price for her
+meanness. She certainly felt Lantier pinching her hard two or three
+times without seeming to do so. She was also jealous because she didn’t
+reek of musk like that boulevard work-horse.
+
+When spring came, Lantier, who was now quite one of the family, talked
+of living in the neighborhood, so as to be nearer his friends. He
+wanted a furnished room in a decent house. Madame Boche, and even
+Gervaise herself went searching about to find it for him. They explored
+the neighboring streets. But he was always too difficult to please; he
+required a big courtyard, a room on the ground floor; in fact, every
+luxury imaginable. And then every evening, at the Coupeaus’, he seemed
+to measure the height of the ceilings, study the arrangement of the
+rooms, and covet a similar lodging. Oh, he would never have asked for
+anything better, he would willingly have made himself a hole in that
+warm, quiet corner. Then each time he wound up his inspection with
+these words:
+
+“By Jove! you are comfortably situated here.”
+
+One evening, when he had dined there, and was making the same remark
+during the dessert, Coupeau, who now treated him most familiarly,
+suddenly exclaimed:
+
+“You must stay here, old boy, if it suits you. It’s easily arranged.”
+
+And he explained that the dirty-clothes room, cleaned out, would make a
+nice apartment. Etienne could sleep in the shop, on a mattress on the
+floor, that was all.
+
+“No, no,” said Lantier, “I cannot accept. It would inconvenience you
+too much. I know that it’s willingly offered, but we should be too warm
+all jumbled up together. Besides, you know, each one likes his liberty.
+I should have to go through your room, and that wouldn’t be exactly
+funny.”
+
+“Ah, the rogue!” resumed the zinc-worker, choking with laughter,
+banging his fist down on the table, “he’s always thinking of something
+smutty! But, you joker, we’re of an inventive turn of mind! There’re
+two windows in the room, aren’t there? Well, we’ll knock one out and
+turn it into a door. Then, you understand you come in by way of the
+courtyard, and we can even stop up the other door, if we like. Thus
+you’ll be in your home, and we in ours.”
+
+A pause ensued. At length the hatter murmured:
+
+“Ah, yes, in that manner perhaps we might. And yet no, I should be too
+much in your way.”
+
+He avoided looking at Gervaise. But he was evidently waiting for a word
+from her before accepting. She was very much annoyed at her husband’s
+idea; not that the thought of seeing Lantier living with them wounded
+her feelings, or made her particularly uneasy, but she was wondering
+where she would be able to keep the dirty clothes. Coupeau was going on
+about the advantages of the arrangement. Their rent, five hundred
+francs, had always been a bit steep. Their friend could pay twenty
+francs a month for a nicely furnished room and it would help them with
+the rent. He would be responsible for fixing up a big box under their
+bed that would be large enough to hold all the dirty clothes. Gervaise
+still hesitated. She looked toward mother Coupeau for guidance. Lantier
+had won over mother Coupeau months ago by bringing her gum drops for
+her cough.
+
+“You would certainly not be in our way,” Gervaise ended by saying. “We
+could so arrange things—”
+
+“No, no, thanks,” repeated the hatter. “You’re too kind; it would be
+asking too much.”
+
+Coupeau could no longer restrain himself. Was he going to continue
+making objections when they told him it was freely offered? He would be
+obliging them. There, did he understand? Then in an excited tone of
+voice he yelled:
+
+“Etienne! Etienne!”
+
+The youngster had fallen asleep on the table. He raised his head with a
+start.
+
+“Listen, tell him that you wish it. Yes, that gentleman there. Tell him
+as loud as you can: ‘I wish it!’”
+
+“I wish it!” stuttered Etienne, his voice thick with sleep.
+
+Everyone laughed. But Lantier resumed his grave and impressive air. He
+squeezed Coupeau’s hand across the table as he said:
+
+“I accept. It’s in all good fellowship on both sides, is it not? Yes, I
+accept for the child’s sake.”
+
+The next day when the landlord, Monsieur Marescot, came to spend an
+hour with the Boches, Gervaise mentioned the matter to him. He refused
+angrily at first. Then, after a careful inspection of the premises,
+particularly gazing upward to verify that the upper floors would not be
+weakened, he finally granted permission on condition there would be no
+expense to him. He had the Coupeaus sign a paper saying they would
+restore everything to its original state on the expiration of the
+lease.
+
+Coupeau brought in some friends of his that very evening—a mason, a
+carpenter and a painter. They would do this job in the evenings as a
+favor to him. Still, installing the door and cleaning up the room cost
+over one hundred francs, not counting the wine that kept the work
+going. Coupeau told his friends he’d pay them something later, out of
+the rent from his tenant.
+
+Then the furniture for the room had to be sorted out. Gervaise left
+mother Coupeau’s wardrobe where it was, and added a table and two
+chairs taken from her own room. She had to buy a washing-stand and a
+bed with mattress and bedclothes, costing one hundred and thirty
+francs, which she was to pay off at ten francs a month. Although
+Lantier’s twenty francs would be used to pay off these debts for ten
+months, there would be a nice little profit later.
+
+It was during the early days of June that the hatter moved in. The day
+before, Coupeau had offered to go with him and fetch his box, to save
+him the thirty sous for a cab. But the other became quite embarrassed,
+saying that the box was too heavy, as though he wished up to the last
+moment to hide the place where he lodged. He arrived in the afternoon
+towards three o’clock. Coupeau did not happen to be in. And Gervaise,
+standing at the shop door became quite pale on recognizing the box
+outside the cab. It was their old box, the one with which they had
+journeyed from Plassans, all scratched and broken now and held together
+by cords. She saw it return as she had often dreamt it would and it
+needed no great stretch of imagination to believe that the same cab,
+that cab in which that strumpet of a burnisher had played her such a
+foul trick, had brought the box back again. Meanwhile Boche was giving
+Lantier a helping hand. The laundress followed them in silence and
+feeling rather dazed. When they had deposited their burden in the
+middle of the room she said for the sake of saying something:
+
+“Well! That’s a good thing finished, isn’t it?”
+
+Then pulling herself together, seeing that Lantier, busy in undoing the
+cords was not even looking at her, she added:
+
+“Monsieur Boche, you must have a drink.”
+
+And she went and fetched a quart of wine and some glasses.
+
+Just then Poisson passed along the pavement in uniform. She signaled to
+him, winking her eye and smiling. The policeman understood perfectly.
+When he was on duty and anyone winked their eye to him it meant a glass
+of wine. He would even walk for hours up and down before the laundry
+waiting for a wink. Then so as not to be seen, he would pass through
+the courtyard and toss off the liquor in secret.
+
+“Ah! ah!” said Lantier when he saw him enter, “it’s you, Badingue.”
+
+He called him Badingue for a joke, just to show how little he cared for
+the Emperor. Poisson put up with it in his stiff way without one
+knowing whether it really annoyed him or not. Besides the two men,
+though separated by their political convictions, had become very good
+friends.
+
+“You know that the Emperor was once a policeman in London,” said Boche
+in his turn. “Yes, on my word! He used to take the drunken women to the
+station-house.”
+
+Gervaise had filled three glasses on the table. She would not drink
+herself, she felt too sick at heart, but she stood there longing to see
+what the box contained and watching Lantier remove the last cords.
+Before raising the lid Lantier took his glass and clinked it with the
+others.
+
+“Good health.”
+
+“Same to you,” replied Boche and Poisson.
+
+The laundress filled the glasses again. The three men wiped their lips
+on the backs of their hands. And at last the hatter opened the box. It
+was full of a jumble of newspapers, books, old clothes and underlinen,
+in bundles. He took out successively a saucepan, a pair of boots, a
+bust of Ledru-Rollin with the nose broken, an embroidered shirt and a
+pair of working trousers. Gervaise could smell the odor of tobacco and
+that of a man whose linen wasn’t too clean, one who took care only of
+the outside, of what people could see.
+
+The old hat was no longer in the left corner. There was a pincushion
+she did not recognize, doubtless a present from some woman. She became
+calmer, but felt a vague sadness as she continued to watch the objects
+that appeared, wondering if they were from her time or from the time of
+others.
+
+“I say, Badingue, do you know this?” resumed Lantier.
+
+He thrust under his nose a little book printed at Brussels. “The Amours
+of Napoleon III.,” Illustrated with engravings. It related, among other
+anecdotes, how the Emperor had seduced a girl of thirteen, the daughter
+of a cook; and the picture represented Napoleon III., bare-legged, and
+also wearing the grand ribbon of the Legion of Honor, pursuing a little
+girl who was trying to escape his lust.
+
+“Ah! that’s it exactly!” exclaimed Boche, whose slyly ridiculous
+instincts felt flattered by the sight. “It always happens like that!”
+
+Poisson was seized with consternation, and he could not find a word to
+say in the Emperor’s defense. It was in a book, so he could not deny
+it. Then, Lantier, continuing to push the picture under his nose in a
+jeering way, he extended his arms and exclaimed:
+
+“Well, so what?”
+
+Lantier didn’t reply. He busied himself arranging his books and
+newspapers on a shelf in the wardrobe. He seemed upset not to have a
+small bookshelf over his table, so Gervaise promised to get him one. He
+had “The History of Ten Years” by Louis Blanc (except for the first
+volume), Lamartine’s “The Girondins” in installments, “The Mysteries of
+Paris” and “The Wandering Jew” by Eugene Sue, and a quantity of
+booklets on philosophic and humanitarian subjects picked up from used
+book dealers.
+
+His newspapers were his prized possessions, a collection made over a
+number of years. Whenever he read an article in a cafe that seemed to
+him to agree with his own ideas, he would buy that newspaper and keep
+it. He had an enormous bundle of them, papers of every date and every
+title, piled up in no discernable order. He patted them and said to the
+other two:
+
+“You see that? No one else can boast of having anything to match it.
+You can’t imagine all that’s in there. I mean, if they put into
+practice only half the ideas, it would clean up the social order
+overnight. That would be good medicine for your Emperor and all his
+stool pigeons.”
+
+The policeman’s red mustache and beard began to bristle on his pale
+face and he interrupted:
+
+“And the army, tell me, what are you going to do about that?”
+
+Lantier flew into a passion. He banged his fists down on the newspapers
+as he yelled:
+
+“I require the suppression of militarism, the fraternity of peoples. I
+require the abolition of privileges, of titles, and of monopolies. I
+require the equality of salaries, the division of benefits, the
+glorification of the protectorate. All liberties, do you hear? All of
+them! And divorce!”
+
+“Yes, yes, divorce for morality!” insisted Boche.
+
+Poisson had assumed a majestic air.
+
+“Yet if I won’t have your liberties, I’m free to refuse them,” he
+answered.
+
+Lantier was choking with passion.
+
+“If you don’t want them—if you don’t want them—” he replied. “No,
+you’re not free at all! If you don’t want them, I’ll send you off to
+Devil’s Island. Yes, Devil’s Island with your Emperor and all the rats
+of his crew.”
+
+They always quarreled thus every time they met. Gervaise, who did not
+like arguments, usually interfered. She roused herself from the torpor
+into which the sight of the box, full of the stale perfume of her past
+love, had plunged her, and she drew the three men’s attention to the
+glasses.
+
+“Ah! yes,” said Lantier, becoming suddenly calm and taking his glass.
+“Good health!”
+
+“Good health!” replied Boche and Poisson, clinking glasses with him.
+
+Boche, however, was moving nervously about, troubled by an anxiety as
+he looked at the policeman out of the corner of his eye.
+
+“All this between ourselves, eh, Monsieur Poisson?” murmured he at
+length. “We say and show you things to show off.”
+
+But Poisson did not let him finish. He placed his hand upon his heart,
+as though to explain that all remained buried there. He certainly did
+not go spying about on his friends. Coupeau arriving, they emptied a
+second quart. Then the policeman went off by way of the courtyard and
+resumed his stiff and measured tread along the pavement.
+
+At the beginning of the new arrangement, the entire routine of the
+establishment was considerably upset. Lantier had his own separate
+room, with his own entrance and his own key. However, since they had
+decided not to close off the door between the rooms, he usually came
+and went through the shop. Besides, the dirty clothes were an
+inconvenience to Gervaise because her husband never made the case he
+had promised and she had to tuck the dirty laundry into any odd corner
+she could find. They usually ended up under the bed and this was not
+very pleasant on warm summer nights. She also found it a nuisance
+having to make up Etienne’s bed every evening in the shop. When her
+employees worked late, the lad had to sleep in a chair until they
+finished.
+
+Goujet had mentioned sending Etienne to Lille where a machinist he knew
+was looking for apprentices. As the boy was unhappy at home and eager
+to be out on his own, Gervaise seriously considered the proposal. Her
+only fear was that Lantier would refuse. Since he had come to live with
+them solely to be near his son, surely he wouldn’t want to lose him
+only two weeks after he moved in. However he approved whole-heartedly
+when she timidly broached the matter to him. He said that young men
+needed to see a bit of the country. The morning that Etienne left
+Lantier made a speech to him, kissed him and ended by saying:
+
+“Never forget that a workingman is not a slave, and that whoever is not
+a workingman is a lazy drone.”
+
+The household was now able to get into the new routine. Gervaise became
+accustomed to having dirty laundry lying all around. Lantier was
+forever talking of important business deals. Sometimes he went out,
+wearing fresh linen and neatly combed. He would stay out all night and
+on his return pretend that he was completely exhausted because he had
+been discussing very serious matters. Actually he was merely taking
+life easy. He usually slept until ten. In the afternoons he would take
+a walk if the weather was nice. If it was raining, he would sit in the
+shop reading his newspaper. This atmosphere suited him. He always felt
+at his ease with women and enjoyed listening to them.
+
+Lantier first took his meals at Francois’s, at the corner of the Rue
+des Poissonniers. But of the seven days in the week he dined with the
+Coupeaus on three or four; so much so that he ended by offering to
+board with them and to pay them fifteen francs every Saturday. From
+that time he scarcely ever left the house, but made himself completely
+at home there. Morning to night he was in the shop, even giving orders
+and attending to customers.
+
+Lantier didn’t like the wine from Francois’s, so he persuaded Gervaise
+to buy her wine from Vigouroux, the coal-dealer. Then he decided that
+Coudeloup’s bread was not baked to his satisfaction, so he sent
+Augustine to the Viennese bakery in the Faubourg Poissonniers for their
+bread. He changed from the grocer Lehongre but kept the butcher, fat
+Charles, because of his political opinions. After a month he wanted all
+the cooking done with olive oil. Clemence joked that with a Provencal
+like him you could never wash out the oil stains. He wanted his omelets
+fried on both sides, as hard as pancakes. He supervised mother
+Coupeau’s cooking, wanting his steaks cooked like shoe leather and with
+garlic on everything. He got angry if she put herbs in the salad.
+
+“They’re just weeds and some of them might be poisonous,” he declared.
+His favorite soup was made with over-boiled vermicelli. He would pour
+in half a bottle of olive oil. Only he and Gervaise could eat this
+soup, the others being too used to Parisian cooking.
+
+Little by little Lantier also came to mixing himself up in the affairs
+of the family. As the Lorilleuxs always grumbled at having to part with
+the five francs for mother Coupeau, he explained that an action could
+be brought against them. They must think that they had a set of fools
+to deal with! It was ten francs a month which they ought to give! And
+he would go up himself for the ten francs so boldly and yet so amiably
+that the chainmaker never dared refuse them. Madame Lerat also gave two
+five-franc pieces now. Mother Coupeau could have kissed Lantier’s
+hands. He was, moreover, the grand arbiter in all the quarrels between
+the old woman and Gervaise. Whenever the laundress, in a moment of
+impatience, behaved roughly to her mother-in-law and the latter went
+and cried on her bed, he hustled them about and made them kiss each
+other, asking them if they thought themselves amusing with their bad
+tempers.
+
+And Nana, too; she was being brought up badly, according to his idea.
+In that he was right, for whenever the father spanked the child, the
+mother took her part, and if the mother, in her turn, boxed her ears,
+the father made a disturbance. Nana delighted at seeing her parents
+abuse each other, and knowing that she was forgiven beforehand, was up
+to all kinds of tricks. Her latest mania was to go and play in the
+blacksmith shop opposite; she would pass the entire day swinging on the
+shafts of the carts; she would hide with bands of urchins in the
+remotest corners of the gray courtyard, lighted up with the red glare
+of the forge; and suddenly she would reappear, running and shouting,
+unkempt and dirty and followed by the troop of urchins, as though a
+sudden clash of the hammers had frightened the ragamuffins away.
+Lantier alone could scold her; and yet she knew perfectly well how to
+get over him. This tricky little girl of ten would walk before him like
+a lady, swinging herself about and casting side glances at him, her
+eyes already full of vice. He had ended by undertaking her education:
+he taught her to dance and to talk patois.
+
+A year passed thus. In the neighborhood it was thought that Lantier had
+a private income, for this was the only way to account for the
+Coupeaus’ grand style of living. No doubt Gervaise continued to earn
+money; but now that she had to support two men in doing nothing, the
+shop certainly could not suffice; more especially as the shop no longer
+had so good a reputation, customers were leaving and the workwomen were
+tippling from morning till night. The truth was that Lantier paid
+nothing, neither for rent nor board. During the first months he had
+paid sums on account, then he had contented himself with speaking of a
+large amount he was going to receive, with which later on he would pay
+off everything in a lump sum. Gervaise no longer dared ask him for a
+centime. She had the bread, the wine, the meat, all on credit. The
+bills increased everywhere at the rate of three and four francs a day.
+She had not paid a sou to the furniture dealer nor to the three
+comrades, the mason, the carpenter and the painter. All these people
+commenced to grumble, and she was no longer greeted with the same
+politeness at the shops.
+
+She was as though intoxicated by a mania for getting into debt; she
+tried to drown her thoughts, ordered the most expensive things, and
+gave full freedom to her gluttony now that she no longer paid for
+anything; she remained withal very honest at heart, dreaming of earning
+from morning to night hundreds of francs, though she did not exactly
+know how, to enable her to distribute handfuls of five-franc pieces to
+her tradespeople. In short, she was sinking, and as she sank lower and
+lower she talked of extending her business. Instead she went deeper
+into debt. Clemence left around the middle of the summer because there
+was no longer enough work for two women and she had not been paid in
+several weeks.
+
+During this impending ruin, Coupeau and Lantier were, in effect,
+devouring the shop and growing fat on the ruin of the establishment. At
+table they would challenge each other to take more helpings and slap
+their rounded stomachs to make more room for dessert.
+
+The great subject of conversation in the neighborhood was as to whether
+Lantier had really gone back to his old footing with Gervaise. On this
+point opinions were divided. According to the Lorilleuxs, Clump-clump
+was doing everything she could to hook Lantier again, but he would no
+longer have anything to do with her because she was getting old and
+faded and he had plenty of younger girls that were prettier. On the
+other hand, according to the Boches, Gervaise had gone back to her
+former mate the very first night, just as soon as poor Coupeau had gone
+to sleep. The picture was not pretty, but there were a lot of worse
+things in life, so folks ended by accepting the threesome as altogether
+natural. In fact, they thought them rather nice since there were never
+any fights and the outward decencies remained. Certainly if you stuck
+your nose into some of the other neighborhood households you could
+smell far worse things. So what if they slept together like a nice
+little family. It never kept the neighbors awake. Besides, everyone was
+still very much impressed by Lantier’s good manners. His charm helped
+greatly to keep tongues from wagging. Indeed, when the fruit dealer
+insisted to the tripe seller that there had been no intimacies, the
+latter appeared to feel that this was really too bad, because it made
+the Coupeaus less interesting.
+
+Gervaise was quite at her ease in this matter, and not much troubled
+with these thoughts. Things reached the point that she was accused of
+being heartless. The family did not understand why she continued to
+bear a grudge against the hatter. Madame Lerat now came over every
+evening. She considered Lantier as utterly irresistible and said that
+most ladies would be happy to fall into his arms. Madame Boche declared
+that her own virtue would not be safe if she were ten years younger.
+There was a sort of silent conspiracy to push Gervaise into the arms of
+Lantier, as if all the women around her felt driven to satisfy their
+own longings by giving her a lover. Gervaise didn’t understand this
+because she no longer found Lantier seductive. Certainly he had changed
+for the better. He had gotten a sort of education in the cafes and
+political meetings but she knew him well. She could pierce to the
+depths of his soul and she found things there that still gave her the
+shivers. Well, if the others found him so attractive, why didn’t they
+try it themselves. In the end she suggested this one day to Virginie
+who seemed the most eager. Then, to excite Gervaise, Madame Lerat and
+Virginie told her of the love of Lantier and tall Clemence. Yes, she
+had not noticed anything herself; but as soon as she went out on an
+errand, the hatter would bring the workgirl into his room. Now people
+met them out together; he probably went to see her at her own place.
+
+“Well,” said the laundress, her voice trembling slightly, “what can it
+matter to me?”
+
+She looked straight into Virginie’s eyes. Did this woman still have it
+in for her?
+
+Virginie replied with an air of innocence:
+
+“It can’t matter to you, of course. Only, you ought to advise him to
+break off with that girl, who is sure to cause him some
+unpleasantness.”
+
+The worst of it was that Lantier, feeling himself supported by public
+opinion, changed altogether in his behavior towards Gervaise. Now,
+whenever he shook hands with her, he held her fingers for a minute
+between his own. He tried her with his glance, fixing a bold look upon
+her, in which she clearly read that he wanted her. If he passed behind
+her, he dug his knees into her skirt, or breathed upon her neck. Yet he
+waited a while before being rough and openly declaring himself. But one
+evening, finding himself alone with her, he pushed her before him
+without a word, and viewed her all trembling against the wall at the
+back of the shop, and tried to kiss her. It so chanced that Goujet
+entered just at that moment. Then she struggled and escaped. And all
+three exchanged a few words, as though nothing had happened. Goujet,
+his face deadly pale, looked on the ground, fancying that he had
+disturbed them, and that she had merely struggled so as not to be
+kissed before a third party.
+
+The next day Gervaise moved restlessly about the shop. She was
+miserable and unable to iron even a single handkerchief. She only
+wanted to see Goujet and explain to him how Lantier happened to have
+pinned her against the wall. But since Etienne had gone to Lille, she
+had hesitated to visit Goujet’s forge where she felt she would be
+greeted by his fellow workers with secret laughter. This afternoon,
+however, she yielded to the impulse. She took an empty basket and went
+out under the pretext of going for the petticoats of her customer on
+Rue des Portes-Blanches. Then, when she reached Rue Marcadet, she
+walked very slowly in front of the bolt factory, hoping for a lucky
+meeting. Goujet must have been hoping to see her, too, for within five
+minutes he came out as if by chance.
+
+“You have been on an errand,” he said, smiling. “And now you are on
+your way home.”
+
+Actually Gervaise had her back toward Rue des Poissonniers. He only
+said that for something to say. They walked together up toward
+Montmartre, but without her taking his arm. They wanted to get a bit
+away from the factory so as not to seem to be having a rendezvous in
+front of it. They turned into a vacant lot between a sawmill and a
+button factory. It was like a small green meadow. There was even a goat
+tied to a stake.
+
+“It’s strange,” remarked Gervaise. “You’d think you were in the
+country.”
+
+They went to sit under a dead tree. Gervaise placed the laundry basket
+by her feet.
+
+“Yes,” Gervaise said, “I had an errand to do, and so I came out.”
+
+She felt deeply ashamed and was afraid to try to explain. Yet she
+realized that they had come here to discuss it. It remained a
+troublesome burden.
+
+Then, all in a rush, with tears in her eyes, she told him of the death
+that morning of Madame Bijard, her washerwoman. She had suffered
+horrible agonies.
+
+“Her husband caused it by kicking her in the stomach,” she said in a
+monotone. “He must have damaged her insides. _Mon Dieu!_ She was in
+agony for three days with her stomach all swelled up. Plenty of
+scoundrels have been sent to the galleys for less than that, but the
+courts won’t concern themselves with a wife-beater. Especially since
+the woman said she had hurt herself falling. She wanted to save him
+from the scaffold, but she screamed all night long before she died.”
+
+Goujet clenched his hands and remained silent.
+
+“She weaned her youngest only two weeks ago, little Jules,” Gervaise
+went on. “That’s lucky for the baby, he won’t have to suffer. Still,
+there’s the child Lalie and she has two babies to look after. She isn’t
+eight yet, but she’s already sensible. Her father will beat her now
+even more than before.”
+
+Goujet gazed at her silently. Then, his lips trembling:
+
+“You hurt me yesterday, yes, you hurt me badly.”
+
+Gervaise turned pale and clasped her hands as he continued:
+
+“I thought it would happen. You should have told me, you should have
+trusted me enough to confess what was happening, so as not to leave me
+thinking that—”
+
+Goujet could not finish the sentence. Gervaise stood up, realizing that
+he thought she had gone back with Lantier as the neighbors asserted.
+Stretching her arms toward him, she cried:
+
+“No, no, I swear to you. He was pushing against me, trying to kiss me,
+but his face never even touched mine. It’s true, and that was the first
+time he tried. Oh, I swear on my life, on the life of my children, oh,
+believe me!”
+
+Goujet was shaking his head. Gervaise said slowly:
+
+“Monsieur Goujet, you know me well. You know that I do not lie. On my
+word of honor, it never happened, and it never will, do you understand?
+Never! I’d be the lowest of the low if it ever happened, and I wouldn’t
+deserve the friendship of an honest man like you.”
+
+She seemed so sincere that he took her hand and made her sit down
+again. He could breathe freely; his heart rejoiced. This was the first
+time he had ever held her hand like this. He pressed it in his own and
+they both sat quietly for a time.
+
+“I know your mother doesn’t like me,” Gervaise said in a low voice.
+“Don’t bother to deny it. We owe you so much money.”
+
+He squeezed her hand tightly. He didn’t want to talk of money. Finally
+he said:
+
+“I’ve been thinking of something for a long time. You are not happy
+where you are. My mother tells me things are getting worse for you.
+Well, then, we can go away together.”
+
+She didn’t understand at first and stared at him, startled by this
+sudden declaration of a love that he had never mentioned.
+
+Finally she asked:
+
+“What do you mean?”
+
+“We’ll get away from here,” he said, looking down at the ground. “We’ll
+go live somewhere else, in Belgium, if you wish. With both of us
+working, we would soon be very comfortable.”
+
+Gervaise flushed. She thought she would have felt less shame if he had
+taken her in his arms and kissed her. Goujet was an odd fellow,
+proposing to elope, just the way it happens in novels. Well, she had
+seen plenty of workingmen making up to married women, but they never
+took them even as far as Saint-Denis.
+
+“Ah, Monsieur Goujet,” she murmured, not knowing what else to say.
+
+“Don’t you see?” he said. “There would only be the two of us. It annoys
+me having others around.”
+
+Having regained her self-possession, however, she refused his proposal.
+
+“It’s impossible, Monsieur Goujet. It would be very wrong. I’m a
+married woman and I have children. We’d soon regret it. I know you care
+for me, and I care for you also, too much to let you do anything
+foolish. It’s much better to stay just as we are. We have respect for
+each other and that’s a lot. It’s been a comfort to me many times. When
+people in our situation stay on the straight, it is better in the end.”
+
+He nodded his head as he listened. He agreed with her and was unable to
+offer any arguments. Suddenly he pulled her into his arms and kissed
+her, crushing her. Then he let her go and said nothing more about their
+love. She wasn’t angry. She felt they had earned that small moment of
+pleasure.
+
+Goujet now didn’t know what to do with his hands, so he went around
+picking dandelions and tossing them into her basket. This amused him
+and gradually soothed him. Gervaise was becoming relaxed and cheerful.
+When they finally left the vacant lot they walked side by side and
+talked of how much Etienne liked being at Lille. Her basket was full of
+yellow dandelions.
+
+Gervaise, at heart, did not feel as courageous when with Lantier as she
+said. She was, indeed, perfectly resolved not to hear his flattery,
+even with the slightest interest; but she was afraid, if ever he should
+touch her, of her old cowardice, of that feebleness and gloominess into
+which she allowed herself to glide, just to please people. Lantier,
+however, did not avow his affection. He several times found himself
+alone with her and kept quiet. He seemed to think of marrying the
+tripe-seller, a woman of forty-five and very well preserved. Gervaise
+would talk of the tripe-seller in Goujet’s presence, so as to set his
+mind at ease. She would say to Virginie and Madame Lerat, whenever they
+were singing the hatter’s praises, that he could very well do without
+her admiration, because all the women of the neighborhood were smitten
+with him.
+
+Coupeau went braying about everywhere that Lantier was a friend and a
+true one. People might jabber about them; he knew what he knew and did
+not care a straw for their gossip, for he had respectability on his
+side. When they all three went out walking on Sundays, he made his wife
+and the hatter walk arm-in-arm before him, just by way of swaggering in
+the street; and he watched the people, quite prepared to administer a
+drubbing if anyone had ventured on the least joke. It was true that he
+regarded Lantier as a bit of a high flyer. He accused him of avoiding
+hard liquor and teased him because he could read and spoke like an
+educated man. Still, he accepted him as a regular comrade. They were
+ideally suited to each other and friendship between men is more
+substantial than love for a woman.
+
+Coupeau and Lantier were forever going out junketing together. Lantier
+would now borrow money from Gervaise—ten francs, twenty francs at a
+time, whenever he smelt there was money in the house. Then on those
+days he would keep Coupeau away from his work, talk of some distant
+errand and take him with him. Then seated opposite to each other in the
+corner of some neighboring eating house, they would guzzle fancy dishes
+which one cannot get at home and wash them down with bottles of
+expensive wine. The zinc-worker would have preferred to booze in a less
+pretentious place, but he was impressed by the aristocratic tastes of
+Lantier, who would discover on the bill of fare dishes with the most
+extraordinary names.
+
+It was hard to understand a man so hard to please. Maybe it was from
+being a southerner. Lantier didn’t like anything too rich and argued
+about every dish, sending back meat that was too salty or too peppery.
+He hated drafts. If a door was left open, he complained loudly. At the
+same time, he was very stingy, only giving the waiter a tip of two sous
+for a meal of seven or eight francs. He was treated with respect in
+spite of that.
+
+The pair were well known along the exterior boulevards, from
+Batignolles to Belleville. They would go to the Grand Rue des
+Batignolles to eat tripe cooked in the Caen style. At the foot of
+Montmartre they obtained the best oysters in the neighborhood at the
+“Town of Bar-le-Duc.” When they ventured to the top of the height as
+far as the “Galette Windmill” they had a stewed rabbit. The “Lilacs,”
+in the Rue des Martyrs, had a reputation for their calf’s head, whilst
+the restaurant of the “Golden Lion” and the “Two Chestnut Trees,” in
+the Chaussee Clignancourt, served them stewed kidneys which made them
+lick their lips. Usually they went toward Belleville where they had
+tables reserved for them at some places of such excellent repute that
+you could order anything with your eyes closed. These eating sprees
+were always surreptitious and the next day they would refer to them
+indirectly while playing with the potatoes served by Gervaise. Once
+Lantier brought a woman with him to the “Galette Windmill” and Coupeau
+left immediately after dessert.
+
+One naturally cannot both guzzle and work; so that ever since the
+hatter was made one of the family, the zinc-worker, who was already
+pretty lazy, had got to the point of never touching a tool. When tired
+of doing nothing, he sometimes let himself be prevailed upon to take a
+job. Then his comrade would look him up and chaff him unmercifully when
+he found him hanging to his knotty cord like a smoked ham, and he would
+call to him to come down and have a glass of wine. And that settled it.
+The zinc-worker would send the job to blazes and commence a booze which
+lasted days and weeks. Oh, it was a famous booze—a general review of
+all the dram shops of the neighborhood, the intoxication of the morning
+slept off by midday and renewed in the evening; the goes of “vitriol”
+succeeded one another, becoming lost in the depths of the night, like
+the Venetian lanterns of an illumination, until the last candle
+disappeared with the last glass! That rogue of a hatter never kept on
+to the end. He let the other get elevated, then gave him the slip and
+returned home smiling in his pleasant way. He could drink a great deal
+without people noticing it. When one got to know him well one could
+only tell it by his half-closed eyes and his overbold behavior to
+women. The zinc-worker, on the contrary, became quite disgusting, and
+could no longer drink without putting himself into a beastly state.
+
+Thus, towards the beginning of November, Coupeau went in for a booze
+which ended in a most dirty manner, both for himself and the others.
+The day before he had been offered a job. This time Lantier was full of
+fine sentiments; he lauded work, because work ennobles a man. In the
+morning he even rose before it was light, for he gravely wished to
+accompany his friend to the workshop, honoring in him the workman
+really worthy of the name. But when they arrived before the “Little
+Civet,” which was just opening, they entered to have a plum in brandy,
+only one, merely to drink together to the firm observance of a good
+resolution. On a bench opposite the counter, and with his back against
+the wall, Bibi-the-Smoker was sitting smoking with a sulky look on his
+face.
+
+“Hallo! Here’s Bibi having a snooze,” said Coupeau. “Are you down in
+the dumps, old bloke?”
+
+“No, no,” replied the comrade, stretching his arm. “It’s the employers
+who disgust me. I sent mine to the right about yesterday. They’re all
+toads and scoundrels.”
+
+Bibi-the-Smoker accepted a plum. He was, no doubt, waiting there on
+that bench for someone to stand him a drink. Lantier, however, took the
+part of the employers; they often had some very hard times, as he who
+had been in business himself well knew. The workers were a bad lot,
+forever getting drunk! They didn’t take their work seriously. Sometimes
+they quit in the middle of a job and only returned when they needed
+something in their pockets. Then Lantier would switch his attack to the
+employers. They were nasty exploiters, regular cannibals. But he could
+sleep with a clear conscience as he had always acted as a friend to his
+employees. He didn’t want to get rich the way others did.
+
+“Let’s be off, my boy,” he said, speaking to Coupeau. “We must be going
+or we shall be late.”
+
+Bibi-the-Smoker followed them, swinging his arms. Outside the sun was
+scarcely rising, the pale daylight seemed dirtied by the muddy
+reflection of the pavement; it had rained the night before and it was
+very mild. The gas lamps had just been turned out; the Rue des
+Poissonniers, in which shreds of night rent by the houses still
+floated, was gradually filling with the dull tramp of the workmen
+descending towards Paris. Coupeau, with his zinc-worker’s bag slung
+over his shoulder, walked along in the imposing manner of a fellow who
+feels in good form for a change. He turned round and asked:
+
+“Bibi, do you want a job. The boss told me to bring a pal if I could.”
+
+“No thanks,” answered Bibi-the-Smoker; “I’m purging myself. You should
+ask My-Boots. He was looking for something yesterday. Wait a minute.
+My-Boots is most likely in there.”
+
+And as they reached the bottom of the street they indeed caught sight
+of My-Boots inside Pere Colombe’s. In spite of the early hour
+l’Assommoir was flaring, the shutters down, the gas lighted. Lantier
+stood at the door, telling Coupeau to make haste, because they had only
+ten minutes left.
+
+“What! You’re going to work for that rascal Bourguignon?” yelled
+My-Boots, when the zinc-worker had spoken to him. “You’ll never catch
+me in his hutch again! No, I’d rather go till next year with my tongue
+hanging out of my mouth. But, old fellow, you won’t stay three days,
+and it’s I who tell you so.”
+
+“Really now, is it such a dirty hole?” asked Coupeau anxiously.
+
+“Oh, it’s about the dirtiest. You can’t move there. The ape’s for ever
+on your back. And such queer ways too—a missus who always says you’re
+drunk, a shop where you mustn’t spit. I sent them to the right about
+the first night, you know.”
+
+“Good; now I’m warned. I shan’t stop there for ever. I’ll just go this
+morning to see what it’s like; but if the boss bothers me, I’ll catch
+him up and plant him upon his missus, you know, bang together like two
+fillets of sole!”
+
+Then Coupeau thanked his friend for the useful information and shook
+his hand. As he was about to leave, My-Boots cursed angrily. Was that
+lousy Bourguignon going to stop them from having a drink? Weren’t they
+free any more? He could well wait another five minutes. Lantier came in
+to share in the round and they stood together at the counter. My-Boots,
+with his smock black with dirt and his cap flattened on his head had
+recently been proclaimed king of pigs and drunks after he had eaten a
+salad of live beetles and chewed a piece of a dead cat.
+
+“Say there, old Borgia,” he called to Pere Colombe, “give us some of
+your yellow stuff, first class mule’s wine.”
+
+And when Pere Colombe, pale and quiet in his blue-knitted waistcoat,
+had filled the four glasses, these gentlemen tossed them off, so as not
+to let the liquor get flat.
+
+“That does some good when it goes down,” murmured Bibi-the-Smoker.
+
+The comic My-Boots had a story to tell. He was so drunk on the Friday
+that his comrades had stuck his pipe in his mouth with a handful of
+plaster. Anyone else would have died of it; he merely strutted about
+and puffed out his chest.
+
+“Do you gentlemen require anything more?” asked Pere Colombe in his
+oily voice.
+
+“Yes, fill us up again,” said Lantier. “It’s my turn.”
+
+Now they were talking of women. Bibi-the-Smoker had taken his girl to
+an aunt’s at Montrouge on the previous Sunday. Coupeau asked for the
+news of the “Indian Mail,” a washerwoman of Chaillot who was known in
+the establishment. They were about to drink, when My-Boots loudly
+called to Goujet and Lorilleux who were passing by. They came just to
+the door, but would not enter. The blacksmith did not care to take
+anything. The chainmaker, pale and shivering, held in his pocket the
+gold chains he was going to deliver; and he coughed and asked them to
+excuse him, saying that the least drop of brandy would nearly make him
+split his sides.
+
+“There are hypocrites for you!” grunted My-Boots. “I bet they have
+their drinks on the sly.”
+
+And when he had poked his nose in his glass he attacked Pere Colombe.
+
+“Vile druggist, you’ve changed the bottle! You know it’s no good your
+trying to palm your cheap stuff off on me.”
+
+The day had advanced; a doubtful sort of light lit up l’Assommoir,
+where the landlord was turning out the gas. Coupeau found excuses for
+his brother-in-law who could not stand drink, which after all was no
+crime. He even approved Goujet’s behavior for it was a real blessing
+never to be thirsty. And as he talked of going off to his work Lantier,
+with his grand air of a gentleman, sharply gave him a lesson. One at
+least stood one’s turn before sneaking off; one should not leave one’s
+friends like a mean blackguard, even when going to do one’s duty.
+
+“Is he going to badger us much longer about his work?” cried My-Boots.
+
+“So this is your turn, sir?” asked Pere Colombe of Coupeau.
+
+The latter paid. But when it came to Bibi-the-Smoker’s turn he
+whispered to the landlord who refused with a shake of the head.
+My-Boots understood, and again set to abusing the old Jew Colombe.
+What! A rascal like him dared to behave in that way to a comrade!
+Everywhere else one could get drink on tick! It was only in such low
+boozing-dens that one was insulted! The landlord remained calm, leaning
+his big fists on the edge of the counter. He politely said:
+
+“Lend the gentleman some money—that will be far simpler.”
+
+“_Mon Dieu!_ Yes, I’ll lend him some,” yelled My-Boots. “Here! Bibi,
+throw this money in his face, the limb of Satan!”
+
+Then, excited and annoyed at seeing Coupeau with his bag slung over his
+shoulder, he continued speaking to the zinc-worker:
+
+“You look like a wet-nurse. Drop your brat. It’ll give you a
+hump-back.”
+
+Coupeau hesitated an instant; and then, quietly, as though he had only
+made up his mind after considerable reflection, he laid his bag on the
+ground saying:
+
+“It’s too late now. I’ll go to Bourguignon’s after lunch. I’ll tell him
+that the missus was ill. Listen, Pere Colombe, I’ll leave my tools
+under this seat and I’ll call for them at twelve o’clock.”
+
+Lantier gave his blessing to this arrangement with an approving nod.
+Labor was necessary, yes, but when you’re with good friends, courtesy
+comes first. Now the four had five hours of idleness before them. They
+were full of noisy merriment. Coupeau was especially relieved. They had
+another round and then went to a small bar that had a billiard table.
+
+At first Lantier turned up his nose at this establishment because it
+was rather shabby. So much liquor had been spilled on the billiard
+table that the balls stuck to it. Once the game got started though,
+Lantier recovered his good humor and began to flaunt his extraordinary
+knack with a cue.
+
+When lunch time came Coupeau had an idea. He stamped his feet and
+cried:
+
+“We must go and fetch Salted-Mouth. I know where he’s working. We’ll
+take him to Mere Louis’ to have some pettitoes.”
+
+The idea was greeted with acclamation. Yes, Salted-Mouth, otherwise
+Drink-without-Thirst, was no doubt in want of some pettitoes. They
+started off. Coupeau took them to the bolt factory in the Rue Marcadet.
+As they arrived a good half hour before the time the workmen came out,
+the zinc-worker gave a youngster two sous to go in and tell
+Salted-Mouth that his wife was ill and wanted him at once. The
+blacksmith made his appearance, waddling in his walk, looking very
+calm, and scenting a tuck-out.
+
+“Ah! you jokers!” said he, as soon as he caught sight of them hiding in
+a doorway. “I guessed it. Well, what are we going to eat?”
+
+At mother Louis’, whilst they sucked the little bones of the pettitoes,
+they again fell to abusing the employers. Salted-Mouth, otherwise
+Drink-without-Thirst, related that they had a most pressing order to
+execute at the shop. Oh! the ape was pleasant for the time being. One
+could be late, and he would say nothing; he no doubt considered himself
+lucky when one turned up at all. At any rate, no boss would dare to
+throw Salted-Mouth out the door, because you couldn’t find lads of his
+capacity any more. After the pettitoes they had an omelet. When each of
+them had emptied his bottle, Mere Louis brought out some Auvergne wine,
+thick enough to cut with a knife. The party was really warming up.
+
+“What do you think is the ape’s latest idea?” cried Salted-Mouth at
+dessert. “Why, he’s been and put a bell up in his shed! A bell! That’s
+good for slaves. Ah, well! It can ring to-day! They won’t catch me
+again at the anvil! For five days past I’ve been sticking there; I may
+give myself a rest now. If he deducts anything, I’ll send him to
+blazes.”
+
+“I,” said Coupeau, with an air of importance, “I’m obliged to leave
+you; I’m off to work. Yes, I promised my wife. Amuse yourselves; my
+spirit you know remains with my pals.”
+
+The others chuffed him. But he seemed so decided that they all
+accompanied him when he talked of going to fetch his tools from Pere
+Colombe’s. He took his bag from under the seat and laid it on the
+ground before him whilst they had a final drink. But at one o’clock the
+party was still standing drinks. Then Coupeau, with a bored gesture
+placed the tools back again under the seat. They were in his way; he
+could not get near the counter without stumbling against them. It was
+too absurd; he would go to Bourguignon’s on the morrow. The other four,
+who were quarrelling about the question of salaries, were not at all
+surprised when the zinc-worker, without any explanation, proposed a
+little stroll on the Boulevard, just to stretch their legs. They didn’t
+go very far. They seemed to have nothing to say to each other out in
+the fresh air. Without even consulting each other with so much as a
+nudge, they slowly and instinctively ascended the Rue des Poissonniers,
+where they went to Francois’s and had a glass of wine out of the
+bottle. Lantier pushed his comrades inside the private room at the
+back; it was a narrow place with only one table in it, and was
+separated from the shop by a dull glazed partition. He liked to do his
+drinking in private rooms because it seemed more respectable. Didn’t
+they like it here? It was as comfortable as being at home. You could
+even take a nap here without being embarrassed. He called for the
+newspaper, spread it out open before him, and looked through it,
+frowning the while. Coupeau and My-Boots had commenced a game of
+piquet. Two bottles of wine and five glasses were scattered about the
+table.
+
+They emptied their glasses. Then Lantier read out loud:
+
+“A frightful crime has just spread consternation throughout the Commune
+of Gaillon, Department of Seine-et-Marne. A son has killed his father
+with blows from a spade in order to rob him of thirty sous.”
+
+They all uttered a cry of horror. There was a fellow whom they would
+have taken great pleasure in seeing guillotined! No, the guillotine was
+not enough; he deserved to be cut into little pieces. The story of an
+infanticide equally aroused their indignation; but the hatter, highly
+moral, found excuses for the woman, putting all the wrong on the back
+of her husband; for after all, if some beast of a man had not put the
+wretched woman into the way of bleak poverty, she could not have
+drowned it in a water closet.
+
+They were most delighted though by the exploit of a Marquis who, coming
+out of a dance hall at two in the morning, had defended himself against
+an attack by three blackguards on the Boulevard des Invalides. Without
+taking off his gloves, he had disposed of the first two villains by
+ramming his head into their stomachs, and then had marched the third
+one off to the police. What a man! Too bad he was a noble.
+
+“Listen to this now,” continued Lantier. “Here’s some society news: ‘A
+marriage is arranged between the eldest daughter of the Countess de
+Bretigny and the young Baron de Valancay, aide-de-camp to His Majesty.
+The wedding trousseau will contain more than three hundred thousand
+francs’ worth of lace.”
+
+“What’s that to us?” interrupted Bibi-the-Smoker. “We don’t want to
+know the color of her mantle. The girl can have no end of lace;
+nevertheless she’ll see the folly of loving.”
+
+As Lantier seemed about to continue his reading, Salted-Mouth,
+otherwise Drink-without-Thirst, took the newspaper from him and sat
+upon it, saying:
+
+“Ah! no, that’s enough! This is all the paper is good for.”
+
+Meanwhile, My-Boots, who had been looking at his hand, triumphantly
+banged his fist down on the table. He scored ninety-three.
+
+“I’ve got the Revolution!” he exulted.
+
+“You’re out of luck, comrade,” the others told Coupeau.
+
+They ordered two fresh bottles. The glasses were filled up again as
+fast as they were emptied, the booze increased. Towards five o’clock it
+began to get disgusting, so much so that Lantier kept very quiet,
+thinking of how to give the others the slip; brawling and throwing the
+wine about was no longer his style. Just then Coupeau stood up to make
+the drunkard’s sign of the cross. Touching his head he pronounced
+Montpernasse, then Menilmonte as he brought his hand to his right
+shoulder, Bagnolet giving himself a blow in the chest, and wound up by
+saying stewed rabbit three times as he hit himself in the pit of the
+stomach. Then the hatter took advantage of the clamor which greeted the
+performance of this feat and quietly made for the door. His comrades
+did not even notice his departure. He had already had a pretty good
+dose. But once outside he shook himself and regained his
+self-possession; and he quietly made for the shop, where he told
+Gervaise that Coupeau was with some friends.
+
+Two days passed by. The zinc-worker had not returned. He was reeling
+about the neighborhood, but no one knew exactly where. Several persons,
+however, stated that they had seen him at mother Baquet’s, at the
+“Butterfly,” and at the “Little Old Man with a Cough.” Only some said
+that he was alone, whilst others affirmed that he was in the company of
+seven or eight drunkards like himself. Gervaise shrugged her shoulders
+in a resigned sort of way. _Mon Dieu!_ She just had to get used to it.
+She never ran about after her old man; she even went out of her way if
+she caught sight of him inside a wineshop, so as to not anger him; and
+she waited at home till he returned, listening at night-time to hear if
+he was snoring outside the door. He would sleep on a rubbish heap, or
+on a seat, or in a piece of waste land, or across a gutter. On the
+morrow, after having only badly slept off his booze of the day before,
+he would start off again, knocking at the doors of all the consolation
+dealers, plunging afresh into a furious wandering, in the midst of nips
+of spirits, glasses of wine, losing his friends and then finding them
+again, going regular voyages from which he returned in a state of
+stupor, seeing the streets dance, the night fall and the day break,
+without any other thought than to drink and sleep off the effects
+wherever he happened to be. When in the latter state, the world was
+ended so far as he was concerned. On the second day, however, Gervaise
+went to Pere Colombe’s l’Assommoir to find out something about him; he
+had been there another five times, they were unable to tell her
+anything more. All she could do was to take away his tools which he had
+left under a seat.
+
+In the evening Lantier, seeing that the laundress seemed very worried,
+offered to take her to a music-hall, just by way of passing a pleasant
+hour or two. She refused at first, she was in no mood for laughing.
+Otherwise she would not have said, “No,” for the hatter made the
+proposal in too straightforward a manner for her to feel any mistrust.
+He seemed to feel for her in quite a paternal way. Never before had
+Coupeau slept out two nights running. So that in spite of herself, she
+would go every ten minutes to the door, with her iron in her hand, and
+look up and down the street to see if her old man was coming.
+
+It might be that Coupeau had broken a leg, or fallen under a wagon and
+been crushed and that might be good riddance to bad rubbish. She saw no
+reason for cherishing in her heart any affection for a filthy character
+like him, but it was irritating, all the same, to have to wonder every
+night whether he would come in or not. When it got dark, Lantier again
+suggested the music-hall, and this time she accepted. She decided it
+would be silly to deny herself a little pleasure when her husband had
+been out on the town for three days. If he wasn’t coming in, then she
+might as well go out herself. Let the entire dump burn up if it felt
+like it. She might even put a torch to it herself. She was getting
+tired of the boring monotony of her present life.
+
+They ate their dinner quickly. Then, when she went off at eight
+o’clock, arm-in-arm with the hatter, Gervaise told mother Coupeau and
+Nana to go to bed at once. The shop was shut and the shutters up. She
+left by the door opening into the courtyard and gave Madame Boche the
+key, asking her, if her pig of a husband came home, to have the
+kindness to put him to bed. The hatter was waiting for her under the
+big doorway, arrayed in his best and whistling a tune. She had on her
+silk dress. They walked slowly along the pavement, keeping close to
+each other, lighted up by the glare from the shop windows which showed
+them smiling and talking together in low voices.
+
+The music-hall was in the Boulevard de Rochechouart. It had originally
+been a little cafe and had been enlarged by means of a kind of wooden
+shed erected in the courtyard. At the door a string of glass globes
+formed a luminous porch. Tall posters pasted on boards stood upon the
+ground, close to the gutter.
+
+“Here we are,” said Lantier. “To-night, first appearance of
+Mademoiselle Amanda, serio-comic.”
+
+Then he caught sight of Bibi-the-Smoker, who was also reading the
+poster. Bibi had a black eye; some punch he had run up against the day
+before.
+
+“Well! Where’s Coupeau?” inquired the hatter, looking about. “Have you,
+then, lost Coupeau?”
+
+“Oh! long ago, since yesterday,” replied the other. “There was a bit of
+a free-for-all on leaving mother Baquet’s. I don’t care for fisticuffs.
+We had a row, you know, with mother Baquet’s pot-boy, because he wanted
+to make us pay for a quart twice over. Then I left. I went and had a
+bit of a snooze.”
+
+He was still yawning; he had slept eighteen hours at a stretch. He was,
+moreover, quite sobered, with a stupid look on his face, and his jacket
+smothered with fluff; for he had no doubt tumbled into bed with his
+clothes on.
+
+“And you don’t know where my husband is, sir?” asked the laundress.
+
+“Well, no, not a bit. It was five o’clock when we left mother Baquet’s.
+That’s all I know about it. Perhaps he went down the street. Yes, I
+fancy now that I saw him go to the ‘Butterfly’ with a coachman. Oh! how
+stupid it is! Really, we deserve to be shot.”
+
+Lantier and Gervaise spent a very pleasant evening at the music-hall.
+At eleven o’clock when the place closed, they strolled home without
+hurrying themselves. The cold was quite sharp. People seemed to be in
+groups. Some of the girls were giggling in the darkness as their men
+pressed close to them. Lantier was humming one of Mademoiselle Amanda’s
+songs. Gervaise, with her head spinning from too much drink, hummed the
+refrain with him. It had been very warm at the music-hall and the two
+drinks she had had, along with all the smoke, had upset her stomach a
+bit. She had been quite impressed with Mademoiselle Amanda. She
+wouldn’t dare to appear in public wearing so little, but she had to
+admit that the lady had lovely skin.
+
+“Everyone’s asleep,” said Gervaise, after ringing three times without
+the Boches opening the door.
+
+At length the door opened, but inside the porch it was very dark, and
+when she knocked at the window of the concierge’s room to ask for her
+key, the concierge, who was half asleep, pulled out some rigmarole
+which she could make nothing of at first. She eventually understood
+that Poisson, the policeman, had brought Coupeau home in a frightful
+state, and that the key was no doubt in the lock.
+
+“The deuce!” murmured Lantier, when they had entered, “whatever has he
+been up to here? The stench is abominable.”
+
+There was indeed a most powerful stench. As Gervaise went to look for
+matches, she stepped into something messy. After she succeeded in
+lighting a candle, a pretty sight met their eyes. Coupeau appeared to
+have disgorged his very insides. The bed was splattered all over, so
+was the carpet, and even the bureau had splashes on its sides. Besides
+that, he had fallen from the bed where Poisson had probably thrown him,
+and was snoring on the floor in the midst of the filth like a pig
+wallowing in the mire, exhaling his foul breath through his open mouth.
+His grey hair was straggling into the puddle around his head.
+
+“Oh! the pig! the pig!” repeated Gervaise, indignant and exasperated.
+“He’s dirtied everything. No, a dog wouldn’t have done that, even a
+dead dog is cleaner.”
+
+They both hesitated to move, not knowing where to place their feet.
+Coupeau had never before come home and put the bedroom into such a
+shocking state. This sight was a blow to whatever affection his wife
+still had for him. Previously she had been forgiving and not seriously
+offended, even when he had been blind drunk. But this made her sick; it
+was too much. She wouldn’t have touched Coupeau for the world, and just
+the thought of this filthy bum touching her caused a repugnance such as
+she might have felt had she been required to sleep beside the corpse of
+someone who had died from a terrible disease.
+
+“Oh, I must get into that bed,” murmured she. “I can’t go and sleep in
+the street. Oh! I’ll crawl into it foot first.”
+
+She tried to step over the drunkard, but had to catch hold of a corner
+of the chest of drawers to save herself from slipping in the mess.
+Coupeau completely blocked the way to the bed. Then, Lantier, who
+laughed to himself on seeing that she certainly could not sleep on her
+own pillow that night, took hold of her hand, saying, in a low and
+angry voice:
+
+“Gervaise, he is a pig.”
+
+She understood what he meant and pulled her hand free. She sighed to
+herself, and, in her bewilderment, addressed him familiarly, as in the
+old days.
+
+“No, leave me alone, Auguste. Go to your own bed. I’ll manage somehow
+to lie at the foot of the bed.”
+
+“Come, Gervaise, don’t be foolish,” resumed he. “It’s too abominable;
+you can’t remain here. Come with me. He won’t hear us. What are you
+afraid of?”
+
+“No,” she replied firmly, shaking her head vigorously. Then, to show
+that she would remain where she was, she began to take off her clothes,
+throwing her silk dress over a chair. She was quickly in only her
+chemise and petticoat. Well, it was her own bed. She wanted to sleep in
+her own bed and made two more attempts to reach a clean corner of the
+bed.
+
+Lantier, having no intention of giving up, whispered things to her.
+
+What a predicament she was in, with a louse of a husband that prevented
+her from crawling under her own blankets and a low skunk behind her
+just waiting to take advantage of the situation to possess her again.
+She begged Lantier to be quiet. Turning toward the small room where
+Nana and mother Coupeau slept, she listened anxiously. She could hear
+only steady breathing.
+
+“Leave me alone, Auguste,” she repeated. “You’ll wake them. Be
+sensible.”
+
+Lantier didn’t answer, but just smiled at her. Then he began to kiss
+her on the ear just as in the old days.
+
+Gervaise felt like sobbing. Her strength deserted her; she felt a great
+buzzing in her ears, a violent tremor passed through her. She advanced
+another step forward. And she was again obliged to draw back. It was
+not possible, the disgust was too great. She felt on the verge of
+vomiting herself. Coupeau, overpowered by intoxication, lying as
+comfortably as though on a bed of down, was sleeping off his booze,
+without life in his limbs, and with his mouth all on one side. The
+whole street might have entered and laughed at him, without a hair of
+his body moving.
+
+“Well, I can’t help it,” she faltered. “It’s his own fault. _Mon Dieu!_
+He’s forcing me out of my own bed. I’ve no bed any longer. No, I can’t
+help it. It’s his own fault.”
+
+She was trembling so she scarcely knew what she was doing. While
+Lantier was urging her into his room, Nana’s face appeared at one of
+the glass panes in the door of the little room. The young girl, pale
+from sleep, had awakened and gotten out of bed quietly. She stared at
+her father lying in his vomit. Then, she stood watching until her
+mother disappeared into Lantier’s room. She watched with the intensity
+and the wide-open eyes of a vicious child aflame with curiosity.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER IX
+
+
+That winter mother Coupeau nearly went off in one of her coughing fits.
+Each December she could count on her asthma keeping her on her back for
+two and three weeks at a time. She was no longer fifteen, she would be
+seventy-three on Saint-Anthony’s day. With that she was very rickety,
+getting a rattling in her throat for nothing at all, though she was
+plump and stout. The doctor said she would go off coughing, just time
+enough to say: “Good-night, the candle’s out!”
+
+When she was in her bed mother Coupeau became positively unbearable. It
+is true though that the little room in which she slept with Nana was
+not at all gay. There was barely room for two chairs between the beds.
+The wallpaper, a faded gray, hung loose in long strips. The small
+window near the ceiling let in only a dim light. It was like a cavern.
+At night, as she lay awake, she could listen to the breathing of the
+sleeping Nana as a sort of distraction; but in the day-time, as there
+was no one to keep her company from morning to night, she grumbled and
+cried and repeated to herself for hours together, as she rolled her
+head on the pillow:
+
+“Good heavens! What a miserable creature I am! Good heavens! What a
+miserable creature I am! They’ll leave me to die in prison, yes, in
+prison!”
+
+As soon as anyone called, Virginie or Madame Boche, to ask after her
+health, she would not reply directly, but immediately started on her
+list of complaints: “Oh, I pay dearly for the food I eat here. I’d be
+much better off with strangers. I asked for a cup of tisane and they
+brought me an entire pot of hot water. It was a way of saying that I
+drank too much. I brought Nana up myself and she scurries away in her
+bare feet every morning and I never see her again all day. Then at
+night she sleeps so soundly that she never wakes up to ask me if I’m in
+pain. I’m just a nuisance to them. They’re waiting for me to die. That
+will happen soon enough. I don’t even have a son any more; that
+laundress has taken him from me. She’d beat me to death if she wasn’t
+afraid of the law.”
+
+Gervaise was indeed rather hasty at times. The place was going to the
+dogs, everyone’s temper was getting spoilt and they sent each other to
+the right about for the least word. Coupeau, one morning that he had a
+hangover, exclaimed: “The old thing’s always saying she’s going to die,
+and yet she never does!” The words struck mother Coupeau to the heart.
+They frequently complained of how much she cost them, observing that
+they would save a lot of money when she was gone.
+
+When at her worst that winter, one afternoon, when Madame Lorilleux and
+Madame Lerat had met at her bedside, mother Coupeau winked her eye as a
+signal to them to lean over her. She could scarcely speak. She rather
+hissed than said in a low voice:
+
+“It’s becoming indecent. I heard them last night. Yes, Clump-clump and
+the hatter. And they were kicking up such a row together! Coupeau’s too
+decent for her.”
+
+And she related in short sentences, coughing and choking between each,
+that her son had come home dead drunk the night before. Then, as she
+was not asleep, she was easily able to account for all the noises, of
+Clump-clump’s bare feet tripping over the tiled floor, the hissing
+voice of the hatter calling her, the door between the two rooms gently
+closed, and the rest. It must have lasted till daylight. She could not
+tell the exact time, because, in spite of her efforts, she had ended by
+falling into a dose.
+
+“What’s most disgusting is that Nana might have heard everything,”
+continued she. “She was indeed restless all the night, she who usually
+sleeps so sound. She tossed about and kept turning over as though there
+had been some lighted charcoal in her bed.”
+
+The other two women did not seem at all surprised.
+
+“Of course!” murmured Madame Lorilleux, “it probably began the very
+first night. But as it pleases Coupeau, we’ve no business to interfere.
+All the same, it’s not very respectable.”
+
+“As for me,” declared Madame Lerat through clenched teeth, “if I’d been
+there, I’d have thrown a fright into them. I’d have shouted something,
+anything. A doctor’s maid told me once that the doctor had told her
+that a surprise like that, at a certain moment, could strike a woman
+dead. If she had died right there, that would have been well, wouldn’t
+it? She would have been punished right where she had sinned.”
+
+It wasn’t long until the entire neighborhood knew that Gervaise visited
+Lantier’s room every night. Madame Lorilleux was loudly indignant,
+calling her brother a poor fool whose wife had shamed him. And her poor
+mother, forced to live in the midst of such horrors. As a result, the
+neighbors blamed Gervaise. Yes, she must have led Lantier astray; you
+could see it in her eyes. In spite of the nasty gossip, Lantier was
+still liked because he was always so polite. He always had candy or
+flowers to give the ladies. _Mon Dieu!_ Men shouldn’t be expected to
+push away women who threw themselves at them. There was no excuse for
+Gervaise. She was a disgrace. The Lorilleuxs used to bring Nana up to
+their apartment in order to find out more details from her, their
+godchild. But Nana would put on her expression of innocent stupidity
+and lower her long silky eyelashes to hide the fire in her eyes as she
+replied.
+
+In the midst of this general indignation, Gervaise lived quietly on,
+feeling tired out and half asleep. At first she considered herself very
+sinful and felt a disgust for herself. When she left Lantier’s room she
+would wash her hands and scrub herself as if trying to get rid of an
+evil stain. If Coupeau then tried to joke with her, she would fly into
+a passion, and run and shiveringly dress herself in the farthest corner
+of the shop; neither would she allow Lantier near her soon after her
+husband had kissed her. She would have liked to have changed her skin
+as she changed men. But she gradually became accustomed to it. Soon it
+was too much trouble to scrub herself each time. Her thirst for
+happiness led her to enjoy as much as she could the difficult
+situation. She had always been disposed to make allowances for herself,
+so why not for others? She only wanted to avoid causing trouble. As
+long as the household went along as usual, there was nothing to
+complain about.
+
+Then, after all, she could not be doing anything to make Coupeau stop
+drinking; matters were arranged so easily to the general satisfaction.
+One is generally punished if one does what is not right. His
+dissoluteness had gradually become a habit. Now it was as regular an
+affair as eating and drinking. Each time Coupeau came home drunk, she
+would go to Lantier’s room. This was usually on Mondays, Tuesdays and
+Wednesdays. Sometimes on other nights, if Coupeau was snoring too
+loudly, she would leave in the middle of the night. It was not that she
+cared more for Lantier, but just that she slept better in his room.
+
+Mother Coupeau never dared speak openly of it. But after a quarrel,
+when the laundress had bullied her, the old woman was not sparing in
+her allusions. She would say that she knew men who were precious fools
+and women who were precious hussies, and she would mutter words far
+more biting, with the sharpness of language pertaining to an old
+waistcoat-maker. The first time this had occurred Gervaise looked at
+her straight in the face without answering. Then, also avoiding going
+into details, she began to defend herself with reasons given in a
+general sort of way. When a woman had a drunkard for a husband, a pig
+who lived in filth, that woman was to be excused if she sought for
+cleanliness elsewhere. Once she pointed out that Lantier was just as
+much her husband as Coupeau was. Hadn’t she known him since she was
+fourteen and didn’t she have children by him?
+
+Anyway, she’d like to see anyone make trouble for her. She wasn’t the
+only one around the Rue de la Goutte-d’Or. Madame Vigouroux, the
+coal-dealer had a merry dance from morning to night. Then there was the
+grocer’s wife, Madame Lehongre with her brother-in-law. _Mon Dieu!_
+What a slob of a fellow. He wasn’t worth touching with a shovel. Even
+the neat little clockmaker was said to have carried on with his own
+daughter, a streetwalker. Ah, the entire neighborhood. Oh, she knew
+plenty of dirt.
+
+One day when mother Coupeau was more pointed than usual in her
+observations, Gervaise had replied to her, clinching her teeth:
+
+“You’re confined to your bed and you take advantage of it. Listen!
+You’re wrong. You see that I behave nicely to you, for I’ve never
+thrown your past life into your teeth. Oh! I know all about it. No,
+don’t cough. I’ve finished what I had to say. It’s only to request you
+to mind your own business, that’s all!”
+
+The old woman almost choked. On the morrow, Goujet having called about
+his mother’s washing when Gervaise happened to be out, mother Coupeau
+called him to her and kept him some time seated beside her bed. She
+knew all about the blacksmith’s friendship, and had noticed that for
+some time past he had looked dismal and wretched, from a suspicion of
+the melancholy things that were taking place. So, for the sake of
+gossiping, and out of revenge for the quarrel of the day before, she
+bluntly told him the truth, weeping and complaining as though
+Gervaise’s wicked behavior did her some special injury. When Goujet
+quitted the little room, he leant against the wall, almost stifling
+with grief. Then, when the laundress returned home, mother Coupeau
+called to her that Madame Goujet required her to go round with her
+clothes, ironed or not; and she was so animated that Gervaise, seeing
+something was wrong, guessed what had taken place and had a
+presentiment of the unpleasantness which awaited her.
+
+Very pale, her limbs already trembling, she placed the things in a
+basket and started off. For years past she had not returned the Goujets
+a sou of their money. The debt still amounted to four hundred and
+twenty-five francs. She always spoke of her embarrassments and received
+the money for the washing. It filled her with shame, because she seemed
+to be taking advantage of the blacksmith’s friendship to make a fool of
+him. Coupeau, who had now become less scrupulous, would chuckle and say
+that Goujet no doubt had fooled around with her a bit, and had so paid
+himself. But she, in spite of the relations she had fallen into with
+Coupeau, would indignantly ask her husband if he already wished to eat
+of that sort of bread. She would not allow anyone to say a word against
+Goujet in her presence; her affection for the blacksmith remained like
+a last shred of her honor. Thus, every time she took the washing home
+to those worthy people, she felt a spasm of her heart the moment she
+put a foot on their stairs.
+
+“Ah! it’s you, at last!” said Madame Goujet sharply, on opening the
+door to her. “When I’m in want of death, I’ll send you to fetch him.”
+
+Gervaise entered, greatly embarrassed, not even daring to mutter an
+excuse. She was no longer punctual, never came at the time arranged,
+and would keep her customers waiting for days on end. Little by little
+she was giving way to a system of thorough disorder.
+
+“For a week past I’ve been expecting you,” continued the lace-mender.
+“And you tell falsehoods too; you send your apprentice to me with all
+sorts of stories; you are then busy with my things, you will deliver
+them the same evening, or else you’ve had an accident, the bundle’s
+fallen into a pail of water. Whilst all this is going on, I waste my
+time, nothing turns up, and it worries me exceedingly. No, you’re most
+unreasonable. Come, what have you in your basket? Is everything there
+now? Have you brought me the pair of sheets you’ve been keeping back
+for a month past, and the chemise which was missing the last time you
+brought home the washing?”
+
+“Yes, yes,” murmured Gervaise, “I have the chemise. Here it is.”
+
+But Madame Goujet cried out. That chemise was not hers, she would have
+nothing to do with it. Her things were changed now; it was too bad!
+Only the week before, there were two handkerchiefs which hadn’t her
+mark on them. It was not to her taste to have clothes coming from no
+one knew where. Besides that, she liked to have her own things.
+
+“And the sheets?” she resumed. “They’re lost, aren’t they? Well! Woman,
+you must see about them, for I insist upon having them to-morrow
+morning, do you hear?”
+
+There was a silence which particularly bothered Gervaise when she
+noticed that the door to Goujet’s room was open. If he was in there, it
+was most annoying that he should hear these just criticisms. She made
+no reply, meekly bowing her head, and placing the laundry on the bed as
+quickly as possible.
+
+Matters became worse when Madame Goujet began to look over the things,
+one by one. She took hold of them and threw them down again saying:
+
+“Ah! you don’t get them up nearly so well as you used to do. One can’t
+compliment you every day now. Yes, you’ve taken to mucking your
+work—doing it in a most slovenly way. Just look at this shirt-front,
+it’s scorched, there’s the mark of the iron on the plaits; and the
+buttons have all been torn off. I don’t know how you manage it, but
+there’s never a button left on anything. Oh! now, here’s a petticoat
+body which I shall certainly not pay you for. Look there! The dirt’s
+still on it, you’ve simply smoothed it over. So now the things are not
+even clean!”
+
+She stopped whilst she counted the different articles. Then she
+exclaimed:
+
+“What! This is all you’ve brought? There are two pairs of stockings,
+six towels, a table-cloth, and several dish-cloths short. You’re
+regularly trifling with me, it seems! I sent word that you were to
+bring me everything, ironed or not. If your apprentice isn’t here on
+the hour with the rest of the things, we shall fall out, Madame
+Coupeau, I warn you.”
+
+At this moment Goujet coughed in his room. Gervaise slightly started.
+_Mon Dieu!_ How she was treated before him. And she remained standing
+in the middle of the rooms, embarrassed and confused and waiting for
+the dirty clothes; but after making up the account Madame Goujet had
+quietly returned to her seat near the window, and resumed the mending
+of a lace shawl.
+
+“And the dirty things?” timidly inquired the laundress.
+
+“No, thank you,” replied the old woman, “there will be no laundry this
+week.”
+
+Gervaise turned pale. She was no longer to have the washing. Then she
+quite lost her head; she was obliged to sit down on a chair, for her
+legs were giving way under her. She did not attempt to vindicate
+herself. All that she would find to say was:
+
+“Is Monsieur Goujet ill?”
+
+Yes, he was not well. He had been obliged to come home instead of
+returning to the forge, and he had gone to lie down on his bed to get a
+rest. Madame Goujet talked gravely, wearing her black dress as usual
+and her white face framed in her nun-like coif. The pay at the forge
+had been cut again. It was now only seven francs a day because the
+machines did so much of the work. This forced her to save money every
+way she could. She would do her own washing from now on. It would
+naturally have been very helpful if the Coupeaus had been able to
+return her the money lent them by her son; but she was not going to set
+the lawyers on them, as they were unable to pay. As she was talking
+about the debt, Gervaise lowered her eyes in embarrassment.
+
+“All the same,” continued the lace-maker, “by pinching yourselves a
+little you could manage to pay it off. For really now, you live very
+well; and spend a great deal, I’m sure. If you were only to pay off ten
+francs a month—”
+
+She was interrupted by the sound of Goujet’s voice as he called:
+
+“Mamma! Mamma!”
+
+And when she returned to her seat, which was almost immediately, she
+changed the conversation. The blacksmith had doubtless begged her not
+to ask Gervaise for money; but in spite of herself she again spoke of
+the debt at the expiration of five minutes. Oh! She had foreseen long
+ago what was now happening. Coupeau was drinking all that the laundry
+business brought in and dragging his wife down with him. Her son would
+never have loaned the money if he had only listened to her. By now he
+would have been married, instead of miserably sad with only unhappiness
+to look forward to for the rest of his life. She grew quite stern and
+angry, even accusing Gervaise of having schemed with Coupeau to take
+advantage of her foolish son. Yes, some women were able to play the
+hypocrite for years, but eventually the truth came out.
+
+“Mamma! Mamma!” again called Goujet, but louder this time.
+
+She rose from her seat and when she returned she said, as she resumed
+her lace mending:
+
+“Go in, he wishes to see you.”
+
+Gervaise, all in a tremble left the door open. This scene filled her
+with emotion because it was like an avowal of their affection before
+Madame Goujet. She again beheld the quiet little chamber, with its
+narrow iron bedstead, and papered all over with pictures, the whole
+looking like the room of some girl of fifteen. Goujet’s big body was
+stretched on the bed. Mother Coupeau’s disclosures and the things his
+mother had been saying seemed to have knocked all the life out of his
+limbs. His eyes were red and swollen, his beautiful yellow beard was
+still wet. In the first moment of rage he must have punched away at his
+pillow with his terrible fists, for the ticking was split and the
+feathers were coming out.
+
+“Listen, mamma’s wrong,” said he to the laundress in a voice that was
+scarcely audible. “You owe me nothing. I won’t have it mentioned
+again.”
+
+He had raised himself up and was looking at her. Big tears at once
+filled his eyes.
+
+“Do you suffer, Monsieur Goujet?” murmured she. “What is the matter
+with you? Tell me!”
+
+“Nothing, thanks. I tired myself with too much work yesterday. I will
+rest a bit.”
+
+Then, his heart breaking, he could not restrain himself and burst out:
+
+“_Mon Dieu!_ Ah! _Mon Dieu!_ It was never to be—never. You swore it.
+And now it is—it is! Ah, it pains me too much, leave me!”
+
+And with his hand he gently and imploringly motioned to her to go. She
+did not draw nearer to the bed. She went off as he requested her to,
+feeling stupid, unable to say anything to soothe him. When in the other
+room she took up her basket; but she did not go home. She stood there
+trying to find something to say. Madame Goujet continued her mending
+without raising her head. It was she who at length said:
+
+“Well! Good-night; send me back my things and we will settle up
+afterwards.”
+
+“Yes, it will be best so—good-night,” stammered Gervaise.
+
+She took a last look around the neatly arranged room and thought as she
+shut the door that she seemed to be leaving some part of her better
+self behind. She plodded blindly back to the laundry, scarcely knowing
+where she was going.
+
+When Gervaise arrived, she found mother Coupeau out of her bed, sitting
+on a chair by the stove. Gervaise was too tired to scold her. Her bones
+ached as though she had been beaten and she was thinking that her life
+was becoming too hard to bear. Surely a quick death was the only escape
+from the pain in her heart.
+
+After this, Gervaise became indifferent to everything. With a vague
+gesture of her hand she would send everybody about their business. At
+each fresh worry she buried herself deeper in her only pleasure, which
+was to have her three meals a day. The shop might have collapsed. So
+long as she was not beneath it, she would have gone off willingly
+without a chemise to her back. And the little shop was collapsing, not
+suddenly, but little by little, morning and evening. One by one the
+customers got angry, and sent their washing elsewhere. Monsieur
+Madinier, Mademoiselle Remanjou, the Boches themselves had returned to
+Madame Fauconnier, where they could count on great punctuality. One
+ends by getting tired of asking for a pair of stockings for three weeks
+straight, and of putting on shirts with grease stains dating from the
+previous Sunday. Gervaise, without losing a bite, wished them a
+pleasant journey, and spoke her mind about them, saying that she was
+precious glad she would no longer have to poke her nose into their
+filth. The entire neighborhood could quit her; that would relieve her
+of the piles of stinking junk and give her less work to do.
+
+Now her only customers were those who didn’t pay regularly, the
+street-walkers, and women like Madame Gaudron, whose laundry smelled so
+bad that not one of the laundresses on the Rue Neuve would take it. She
+had to let Madame Putois go, leaving only her apprentice, squint-eyed
+Augustine, who seemed to grow more stupid as time passed. Frequently
+there was not even enough work for the two of them and they sat on
+stools all afternoon doing nothing.
+
+Whilst idleness and poverty entered, dirtiness naturally entered also.
+One would never have recognised that beautiful blue shop, the color of
+heaven, which had once been Gervaise’s pride. Its window-frames and
+panes, which were never washed, were covered from top to bottom with
+the splashes of the passing vehicles. On the brass rods in the windows
+were displayed three grey rags left by customers who had died in the
+hospital. And inside it was more pitiable still; the dampness of the
+clothes hung up at the ceiling to dry had loosed all the wallpaper; the
+Pompadour chintz hung in strips like cobwebs covered with dust; the big
+stove, broken and in holes from the rough use of the poker, looked in
+its corner like the stock in trade of a dealer in old iron; the
+work-table appeared as though it had been used by a regiment, covered
+as it was with wine and coffee stains, sticky with jam, greasy from
+spilled gravy.
+
+Gervaise was so at ease among it all that she never even noticed the
+shop was getting filthy. She became used to it all, just as she got
+used to wearing torn skirts and no longer washing herself carefully.
+The disorder was like a warm nest.
+
+Her own ease was her sole consideration; she did not care a pin for
+anything else. The debts, though still increasing, no longer troubled
+her. Her honesty gradually deserted her; whether she would be able to
+pay or not was altogether uncertain, and she preferred not to think
+about it. When her credit was stopped at one shop, she would open an
+account at some other shop close by. She was in debt all over the
+neighborhood, she owed money every few yards. To take merely the Rue de
+la Goutte-d’Or, she no longer dared pass in front of the grocer’s, nor
+the charcoal-dealer’s, nor the greengrocer’s; and this obliged her,
+whenever she required to be at the wash-house, to go round by the Rue
+des Poissonniers, which was quite ten minutes out of her way. The
+tradespeople came and treated her as a swindler. One evening the dealer
+from whom she had purchased Lantier’s furniture made a scene in the
+street. Scenes like this upset her at the time, but were soon forgotten
+and never spoiled her appetite. What a nerve to bother her like that
+when she had no money to pay. They were all robbers anyway and it
+served them right to have to wait. Well, she’d have to go bankrupt, but
+she didn’t intend to fret about it now.
+
+Meanwhile mother Coupeau had recovered. For another year the household
+jogged along. During the summer months there was naturally a little
+more work—the white petticoats and the cambric dresses of the
+street-walkers of the exterior Boulevard. The catastrophe was slowly
+approaching; the home sank deeper into the mire every week; there were
+ups and downs, however—days when one had to rub one’s stomach before
+the empty cupboard, and others when one ate veal enough to make one
+burst. Mother Coupeau was for ever being seen in the street, hiding
+bundles under her apron, and strolling in the direction of the
+pawn-place in the Rue Polonceau. She strutted along with the air of a
+devotee going to mass; for she did not dislike these errands; haggling
+about money amused her; this crying up of her wares like a second-hand
+dealer tickled the old woman’s fancy for driving hard bargains. The
+clerks knew her well and called her “Mamma Four Francs,” because she
+always demanded four francs when they offered three, on bundles no
+bigger than two sous’ worth of butter.
+
+At the start, Gervaise took advantage of good weeks to get things back
+from the pawn-shops, only to put them back again the next week. Later
+she let things go altogether, selling her pawn tickets for cash.
+
+One thing alone gave Gervaise a pang—it was having to pawn her clock to
+pay an acceptance for twenty francs to a bailiff who came to seize her
+goods. Until then, she had sworn rather to die of hunger than to part
+with her clock. When mother Coupeau carried it away in a little
+bonnet-box, she sunk on to a chair, without a particle of strength left
+in her arms, her eyes full of tears, as though a fortune was being torn
+from her. But when mother Coupeau reappeared with twenty-five francs,
+the unexpected loan, the five francs profit consoled her; she at once
+sent the old woman out again for four sous’ worth of brandy in a glass,
+just to toast the five-franc piece.
+
+The two of them would often have a drop together, when they were on
+good terms with each other. Mother Coupeau was very successful at
+bringing back a full glass hidden in her apron pocket without spilling
+a drop. Well, the neighbors didn’t need to know, did they. But the
+neighbors knew perfectly well. This turned the neighborhood even more
+against Gervaise. She was devouring everything; a few more mouthfuls
+and the place would be swept clean.
+
+In the midst of this general demolishment, Coupeau continued to
+prosper. The confounded tippler was as well as well could be. The sour
+wine and the “vitriol” positively fattened him. He ate a great deal,
+and laughed at that stick Lorilleux, who accused drink of killing
+people, and answered him by slapping himself on the stomach, the skin
+of which was so stretched by the fat that it resembled the skin of a
+drum. He would play him a tune on it, the glutton’s vespers, with rolls
+and beats loud enough to have made a quack’s fortune. Lorilleux,
+annoyed at not having any fat himself, said that it was soft and
+unhealthy. Coupeau ignored him and went on drinking more and more,
+saying it was for his health’s sake.
+
+His hair was beginning to turn grey and his face to take on the
+drunkard’s hue of purplish wine. He continued to act like a mischievous
+child. Well, it wasn’t his concern if there was nothing about the place
+to eat. When he went for weeks without work he became even more
+difficult.
+
+Still, he was always giving Lantier friendly slaps on the back. People
+swore he had no suspicion at all. Surely something terrible would
+happen if he ever found out. Madame Lerat shook her head at this. His
+sister said she had known of husbands who didn’t mind at all.
+
+Lantier wasn’t wasting away either. He took great care of himself,
+measuring his stomach by the waist-band of his trousers, with the
+constant dread of having to loosen the buckle or draw it tighter; for
+he considered himself just right, and out of coquetry neither desired
+to grow fatter nor thinner. That made him hard to please in the matter
+of food, for he regarded every dish from the point of view of keeping
+his waist as it was. Even when there was not a sou in the house, he
+required eggs, cutlets, light and nourishing things. Since he was
+sharing the lady of the house, he considered himself to have a half
+interest in everything and would pocket any franc pieces he saw lying
+about. He kept Gervaise running here and there and seemed more at home
+than Coupeau. Nana was his favorite because he adored pretty little
+girls, but he paid less and less attention to Etienne, since boys,
+according to him, ought to know how to take care of themselves. If
+anyone came to see Coupeau while he was out, Lantier, in shirt sleeves
+and slippers, would come out of the back room with the bored expression
+of a husband who has been disturbed, saying he would answer for Coupeau
+as it was all the same.
+
+Between these two gentlemen, Gervaise had nothing to laugh about. She
+had nothing to complain of as regards her health, thank goodness! She
+was growing too fat. But two men to coddle was often more than she
+could manage. Ah! _Mon Dieu!_ one husband is already too much for a
+woman! The worst was that they got on very well together, the rogues.
+They never quarreled; they would chuckle in each other’s faces, as they
+sat of an evening after dinner, their elbows on the table; they would
+rub up against one another all the live-long day, like cats which seek
+and cultivate their pleasure. The days when they came home in a rage,
+it was on her that they vented it. Go it! hammer away at the animal!
+She had a good back; it made them all the better friends when they
+yelled together. And it never did for her to give them tit-for-tat. In
+the beginning, whenever one of them yelled at her, she would appeal to
+the other, but this seldom worked. Coupeau had a foul mouth and called
+her horrible things. Lantier chose his insults carefully, but they
+often hurt her even more.
+
+But one can get used to anything. Soon their nasty remarks and all the
+wrongs done her by these two men slid off her smooth skin like water
+off a duck’s back. It was even easier to have them angry, because when
+they were in good moods they bothered her too much, never giving her
+time to get a bonnet ironed.
+
+Yes, Coupeau and Lantier were wearing her out. The zinc-worker, sure
+enough, lacked education; but the hatter had too much, or at least he
+had education in the same way that dirty people have a white shirt,
+with uncleanliness underneath it. One night, she dreamt that she was on
+the edge of a wall; Coupeau was knocking her into it with a blow of his
+fist, whilst Lantier was tickling her in the ribs to make her fall
+quicker. Well! That resembled her life. It was no surprise if she was
+becoming slipshod. The neighbors weren’t fair in blaming her for the
+frightful habits she had fallen into. Sometimes a cold shiver ran
+through her, but things could have been worse, so she tried to make the
+best of it. Once she had seen a play in which the wife detested her
+husband and poisoned him for the sake of her lover. Wasn’t it more
+sensible for the three of them to live together in peace? In spite of
+her debts and poverty she thought she was quite happy and could live in
+peace if only Coupeau and Lantier would stop yelling at her so much.
+
+Towards the autumn, unfortunately, things became worse. Lantier
+pretended he was getting thinner, and pulled a longer face over the
+matter every day. He grumbled at everything, sniffed at the dishes of
+potatoes—a mess he could not eat, he would say, without having the
+colic. The least jangling now turned to quarrels, in which they accused
+one another of being the cause of all their troubles, and it was a
+devil of a job to restore harmony before they all retired for the
+night.
+
+Lantier sensed a crisis coming and it exasperated him to realise that
+this place was already so thoroughly cleaned out that he could see the
+day coming when he’d have to take his hat and seek elsewhere for his
+bed and board. He had become accustomed to this little paradise where
+he was nicely treated by everybody. He should have blamed himself for
+eating himself out of house and home, but instead he blamed the
+Coupeaus for letting themselves be ruined in less than two years. He
+thought Gervaise was too extravagant. What was going to happen to them
+now?
+
+One evening in December they had no dinner at all. There was not a
+radish left. Lantier, who was very glum, went out early, wandering
+about in search of some other den where the smell of the kitchen would
+bring a smile to one’s face. He would now remain for hours beside the
+stove wrapt in thought. Then, suddenly, he began to evince a great
+friendship for the Poissons. He no longer teased the policeman and even
+went so far as to concede that the Emperor might not be such a bad
+fellow after all. He seemed to especially admire Virginie. No doubt he
+was hoping to board with them. Virginie having acquainted him with her
+desire to set up in some sort of business, he agreed with everything
+she said, and declared that her idea was a most brilliant one. She was
+just the person for trade—tall, engaging and active. Oh! she would make
+as much as she liked. The capital had been available for some time,
+thanks to an inheritance from an aunt. Lantier told her of all the
+shopkeepers who were making fortunes. The time was right for it; you
+could sell anything these days. Virginie, however, hesitated; she was
+looking for a shop that was to be let, she did not wish to leave the
+neighborhood. Then Lantier would take her into corners and converse
+with her in an undertone for ten minutes at a time. He seemed to be
+urging her to do something in spite of herself; and she no longer said
+“no,” but appeared to authorize him to act. It was as a secret between
+them, with winks and words rapidly exchanged, some mysterious
+understanding which betrayed itself even in their handshakings.
+
+From this moment the hatter would covertly watch the Coupeaus whilst
+eating their dry bread, and becoming very talkative again, would deafen
+them with his continual jeremiads. All day long Gervaise moved in the
+midst of that poverty which he so obligingly spread out. _Mon Dieu!_ he
+wasn’t thinking of himself; he would go on starving with his friends as
+long as they liked. But look at it with common sense. They owed at
+least five hundred francs in the neighborhood. Besides which, they were
+two quarters’ rent behind with the rent, which meant another two
+hundred and fifty francs; the landlord, Monsieur Marescot, even spoke
+of having them evicted if they did not pay him by the first of January.
+Finally the pawn-place had absorbed everything, one could not have got
+together three francs’ worth of odds and ends, the clearance had been
+so complete; the nails remained in the walls and that was all and
+perhaps there were two pounds of them at three sous the pound.
+Gervaise, thoroughly entangled in it all, her nerves quite upset by
+this calculation, would fly into a passion and bang her fists down upon
+the table or else she would end by bursting into tears like a fool. One
+night she exclaimed:
+
+“I’ll be off to-morrow! I prefer to put the key under the door and to
+sleep on the pavement rather than continue to live in such frights.”
+
+“It would be wiser,” said Lantier slyly, “to get rid of the lease if
+you could find someone to take it. When you are both decided to give up
+the shop—”
+
+She interrupted him more violently:
+
+“At once, at once! Ah! it’ll be a good riddance!”
+
+Then the hatter became very practical. On giving up the lease one would
+no doubt get the new tenant to be responsible for the two overdue
+quarters. And he ventured to mention the Poissons, he reminded them
+that Virginie was looking for a shop; theirs would perhaps suit her. He
+remembered that he had heard her say she longed for one just like it.
+But when Virginie’s name was mentioned the laundress suddenly regained
+her composure. We’ll see how things go along. When you’re angry you
+always talk of quitting, but it isn’t so easy when you just stop to
+think about it.
+
+During the following days it was in vain that Lantier harped upon the
+subject. Gervaise replied that she had seen herself worse off and had
+pulled through. How would she be better off when she no longer had her
+shop? That would not put bread into their mouths. She would, on the
+contrary, engage some fresh workwomen and work up a fresh connection.
+
+Lantier made the mistake of mentioning Virginie again. This stirred
+Gervaise into furious obstinacy. No! Never! She had always had her
+suspicions of what was in Virginie’s heart. Virginie only wanted to
+humiliate her. She would rather turn it over to the first woman to come
+in from the street than to that hypocrite who had been waiting for
+years to see her fail. Yes, Virginie still had in mind that fight in
+the wash-house. Well, she’d be wiser to forget about it, unless she
+wanted another one now.
+
+In the face of this flow of angry retorts, Lantier began by attacking
+Gervaise. He called her stupid and stuck-up. He even went so far as to
+abuse Coupeau, accusing him of not knowing how to make his wife respect
+his friend. Then, realising that passion would compromise everything,
+he swore that he would never again interest himself in the affairs of
+other people, for one always got more kicks than thanks; and indeed he
+appeared to have given up all idea of talking them into parting with
+the lease, but he was really watching for a favorable opportunity of
+broaching the subject again and of bringing the laundress round to his
+views.
+
+January had now arrived; the weather was wretched, both damp and cold.
+Mother Coupeau, who had coughed and choked all through December, was
+obliged to take to her bed after Twelfth-night. It was her annuity,
+which she expected every winter. This winter though, those around her
+said she’d never come out of her bedroom except feet first. Indeed, her
+gaspings sounded like a death rattle. She was still fat, but one eye
+was blind and one side of her face was twisted. The doctor made one
+call and didn’t return again. They kept giving her tisanes and going to
+check on her every hour. She could no longer speak because her
+breathing was so difficult.
+
+One Monday evening, Coupeau came home totally drunk. Ever since his
+mother was in danger, he had lived in a continual state of deep
+emotion. When he was in bed, snoring soundly, Gervaise walked about the
+place for a while. She was in the habit of watching over mother Coupeau
+during a part of the night. Nana had showed herself very brave, always
+sleeping beside the old woman, and saying that if she heard her dying,
+she would wake everyone. Since the invalid seemed to be sleeping
+peacefully this night, Gervaise finally yielded to the appeals of
+Lantier to come into his room for a little rest. They only kept a
+candle alight, standing on the ground behind the wardrobe. But towards
+three o’clock Gervaise abruptly jumped out of bed, shivering and
+oppressed with anguish. She thought she had felt a cold breath pass
+over her body. The morsel of candle had burnt out; she tied on her
+petticoats in the dark, all bewildered, and with feverish hands. It was
+not till she got into the little room, after knocking up against the
+furniture, that she was able to light a small lamp. In the midst of the
+oppressive silence of night, the zinc-worker’s snores alone sounded as
+two grave notes. Nana, stretched on her back, was breathing gently
+between her pouting lips. And Gervaise, holding down the lamp which
+caused big shadows to dance about the room, cast the light on mother
+Coupeau’s face, and beheld it all white, the head lying on the
+shoulder, the eyes wide open. Mother Coupeau was dead.
+
+Gently, without uttering a cry, icy cold yet prudent, the laundress
+returned to Lantier’s room. He had gone to sleep again. She bent over
+him and murmured:
+
+“Listen, it’s all over, she’s dead.”
+
+Heavy with sleep, only half awake, he grunted at first:
+
+“Leave me alone, get into bed. We can’t do her any good if she’s dead.”
+
+Then he raised himself on his elbow and asked:
+
+“What’s the time?”
+
+“Three o’clock.”
+
+“Only three o’clock! Get into bed quick. You’ll catch cold. When it’s
+daylight, we’ll see what’s to be done.”
+
+But she did not listen to him, she dressed herself completely. Bundling
+himself in the blankets, Lantier muttered about how stubborn women
+were. What was the hurry to announce a death in the house? He was
+irritated at having his sleep spoiled by such gloomy matters.
+
+Meanwhile, Gervaise had moved her things back into her own room. Then
+she felt free to sit down and cry, no longer fearful of being caught in
+Lantier’s room. She had been fond of mother Coupeau and felt a deep
+sorrow at her loss. She sat, crying by herself, her sobs loud in the
+silence, but Coupeau never stirred. She had spoken to him and even
+shaken him and finally decided to let him sleep. He would be more of a
+nuisance if he woke up.
+
+On returning to the body, she found Nana sitting up in bed rubbing her
+eyes. The child understood, and with her vicious urchin’s curiosity,
+stretched out her neck to get a better view of her grandmother; she
+said nothing but she trembled slightly, surprised and satisfied in the
+presence of this death which she had been promising herself for two
+days past, like some nasty thing hidden away and forbidden to children;
+and her young cat-like eyes dilated before that white face all
+emaciated at the last gasp by the passion of life, she felt that
+tingling in her back which she felt behind the glass door when she
+crept there to spy on what was no concern of chits like her.
+
+“Come, get up,” said her mother in a low voice. “You can’t remain
+here.”
+
+She regretfully slid out of bed, turning her head round and not taking
+her eyes off the corpse. Gervaise was much worried about her, not
+knowing where to put her till day-time. She was about to tell her to
+dress herself, when Lantier, in his trousers and slippers, rejoined
+her. He could not get to sleep again, and was rather ashamed of his
+behavior. Then everything was arranged.
+
+“She can sleep in my bed,” murmured he. “She’ll have plenty of room.”
+
+Nana looked at her mother and Lantier with her big, clear eyes and put
+on her stupid air, the same as on New Year’s day when anyone made her a
+present of a box of chocolate candy. And there was certainly no need
+for them to hurry her. She trotted off in her night-gown, her bare feet
+scarcely touching the tiled floor; she glided like a snake into the
+bed, which was still quite warm, and she lay stretched out and buried
+in it, her slim body scarcely raising the counterpane. Each time her
+mother entered the room she beheld her with her eyes sparkling in her
+motionless face—not sleeping, not moving, very red with excitement, and
+appearing to reflect on her own affairs.
+
+Lantier assisted Gervaise in dressing mother Coupeau—and it was not an
+easy matter, for the body was heavy. One would never have thought that
+that old woman was so fat and so white. They put on her stockings, a
+white petticoat, a short linen jacket and a white cap—in short, the
+best of her linen. Coupeau continued snoring, a high note and a low
+one, the one sharp, the other flat. One could almost have imagined it
+to be church music accompanying the Good Friday ceremonies. When the
+corpse was dressed and properly laid out on the bed, Lantier poured
+himself out a glass of wine, for he felt quite upset. Gervaise searched
+the chest of drawers to find a little brass crucifix which she had
+brought from Plassans, but she recollected that mother Coupeau had, in
+all probability, sold it herself. They had lighted the stove, and they
+passed the rest of the night half asleep on chairs, finishing the
+bottle of wine that had been opened, worried and sulking, as though it
+was their own fault.
+
+Towards seven o’clock, before daylight, Coupeau at length awoke. When
+he learnt his loss he at first stood still with dry eyes, stuttering
+and vaguely thinking that they were playing him some joke. Then he
+threw himself on the ground and went and knelt beside the corpse. His
+kissed it and wept like a child, with such a copious flow of tears that
+he quite wetted the sheet with wiping his cheeks. Gervaise had
+recommenced sobbing, deeply affected by her husband’s grief, and the
+best of friends with him again. Yes, he was better at heart than she
+thought he was. Coupeau’s despair mingled with a violent pain in his
+head. He passed his fingers through his hair. His mouth was dry, like
+on the morrow of a booze, and he was still a little drunk in spite of
+his ten hours of sleep. And, clenching his fist, he complained aloud.
+_Mon Dieu!_ she was gone now, his poor mother, whom he loved so much!
+Ah! what a headache he had; it would settle him! It was like a wig of
+fire! And now they were tearing out his heart! No, it was not just of
+fate thus to set itself against one man!
+
+“Come, cheer up, old fellow,” said Lantier, raising him from the
+ground; “you must pull yourself together.”
+
+He poured him out a glass of wine, but Coupeau refused to drink.
+
+“What’s the matter with me? I’ve got copper in my throat. It’s mamma.
+When I saw her I got a taste of copper in my mouth. Mamma! _Mon Dieu!_
+mamma, mamma!”
+
+And he recommenced crying like a child. Then he drank the glass of
+wine, hoping to put out the flame searing his breast. Lantier soon
+left, using the excuse of informing the family and filing the necessary
+declaration at the town hall. Really though, he felt the need of fresh
+air, and so he took his time, smoking cigarettes and enjoying the
+morning air. When he left Madame Lerat’s house, he went into a dairy
+place on Les Batignolles for a cup of hot coffee and remained there an
+hour, thinking things over.
+
+Towards nine o’clock the family were all united in the shop, the
+shutters of which were kept up. Lorilleux did not cry. Moreover he had
+some pressing work to attend to, and he returned almost directly to his
+room, after having stalked about with a face put on for the occasion.
+Madame Lorilleux and Madame Lerat embraced the Coupeaus and wiped their
+eyes, from which a few tears were falling. But Madame Lorilleux, after
+giving a hasty glance round the death chamber, suddenly raised her
+voice to say that it was unheard of, that one never left a lighted lamp
+beside a corpse; there should be a candle, and Nana was sent to
+purchase a packet of tall ones. Ah, well! It made one long to die at
+Clump-clump’s, she laid one out in such a fine fashion! What a fool,
+not even to know what to do with a corpse! Had she then never buried
+anyone in her life? Madame Lerat had to go to the neighbors and borrow
+a crucifix; she brought one back which was too big, a cross of black
+wood with a Christ in painted cardboard fastened to it, which covered
+the whole of mother Coupeau’s chest, and seemed to crush her under its
+weight. Then they tried to obtain some holy water, but no one had any,
+and it was again Nana who was sent to the church to bring some back in
+a bottle. In practically no time the tiny room presented quite another
+appearance; on a little table a candle was burning beside a glass full
+of holy water into which a sprig of boxwood was dipped. Now, if anyone
+came, it would at least look decent. And they arranged the chairs in a
+circle in the shop for receiving people.
+
+Lantier only returned at eleven o’clock. He had been to the
+undertaker’s for information.
+
+“The coffin is twelve francs,” said he. “If you desire a mass, it will
+be ten francs more. Then there’s the hearse, which is charged for
+according to the ornaments.”
+
+“Oh! it’s quite unnecessary to be fancy,” murmured Madame Lorilleux,
+raising her head in a surprised and anxious manner. “We can’t bring
+mamma to life again, can we? One must do according to one’s means.”
+
+“Of course, that’s just what I think,” resumed the hatter. “I merely
+asked the prices to guide you. Tell me what you desire; and after lunch
+I will give the orders.”
+
+They were talking in lowered voices. Only a dim light came into the
+room through the cracks in the shutters. The door to the little room
+stood half open, and from it came the deep silence of death. Children’s
+laughter echoed in the courtyard. Suddenly they heard the voice of
+Nana, who had escaped from the Boches to whom she had been sent. She
+was giving commands in her shrill voice and the children were singing a
+song about a donkey.
+
+Gervaise waited until it was quiet to say:
+
+“We’re not rich certainly; but all the same we wish to act decently. If
+mother Coupeau has left us nothing, it’s no reason for pitching her
+into the ground like a dog. No; we must have a mass, and a hearse with
+a few ornaments.”
+
+“And who will pay for them?” violently inquired Madame Lorilleux. “Not
+we, who lost some money last week; and you either, as you’re stumped.
+Ah! you ought, however, to see where it has led you, this trying to
+impress people!”
+
+Coupeau, when consulted, mumbled something with a gesture of profound
+indifference, and then fell asleep again on his chair. Madame Lerat
+said that she would pay her share. She was of Gervaise’s opinion, they
+should do things decently. Then the two of them fell to making
+calculations on a piece of paper: in all, it would amount to about
+ninety francs, because they decided, after a long discussion, to have a
+hearse ornamented with a narrow scallop.
+
+“We’re three,” concluded the laundress. “We’ll give thirty francs each.
+It won’t ruin us.”
+
+But Madame Lorilleux broke out in a fury.
+
+“Well! I refuse, yes, I refuse! It’s not for the thirty francs. I’d
+give a hundred thousand, if I had them, and if it would bring mamma to
+life again. Only, I don’t like vain people. You’ve got a shop, you only
+dream of showing off before the neighborhood. We don’t fall in with it,
+we don’t. We don’t try to make ourselves out what we are not. Oh! you
+can manage it to please yourself. Put plumes on the hearse if it amuses
+you.”
+
+“No one asks you for anything,” Gervaise ended by answering. “Even
+though I should have to sell myself, I’ll not have anything to reproach
+myself with. I’ve fed mother Coupeau without your help, and I can
+certainly bury her without your help also. I already once before gave
+you a bit of my mind; I pick up stray cats, I’m not likely to leave
+your mother in the mire.”
+
+Then Madame Lorilleux burst into tears and Lantier had to prevent her
+from leaving. The argument became so noisy that Madame Lerat felt she
+had to go quietly into the little room and glance tearfully at her dead
+mother, as though fearing to find her awake and listening. Just at this
+moment the girls playing in the courtyard, led by Nana, began singing
+again.
+
+“_Mon Dieu!_ how those children grate on one’s nerves with their
+singing!” said Gervaise, all upset and on the point of sobbing with
+impatience and sadness. Turning to the hatter, she said:
+
+“Do please make them leave off, and send Nana back to the concierge’s
+with a kick.”
+
+Madame Lerat and Madame Lorilleux went away to eat lunch, promising to
+return. The Coupeaus sat down to eat a bite without much appetite,
+feeling hesitant about even raising a fork. After lunch Lantier went to
+the undertaker’s again with the ninety francs. Thirty had come from
+Madame Lerat and Gervaise had run, with her hair all loose, to borrow
+sixty francs from Goujet.
+
+Several of the neighbors called in the afternoon, mainly out of
+curiosity. They went into the little room to make the sign of the cross
+and sprinkle some holy water with the boxwood sprig. Then they sat in
+the shop and talked endlessly about the departed. Mademoiselle Remanjou
+had noticed that her right eye was still open. Madame Gaudron
+maintained that she had a fine complexion for her age. Madame
+Fauconnier kept repeating that she had seen her having coffee only
+three days earlier.
+
+Towards evening the Coupeaus were beginning to have had enough of it.
+It was too great an affliction for a family to have to keep a corpse so
+long a time. The government ought to have made a new law on the
+subject. All through another evening, another night, and another
+morning—no! it would never come to an end. When one no longer weeps,
+grief turns to irritation; is it not so? One would end by misbehaving
+oneself. Mother Coupeau, dumb and stiff in the depths of the narrow
+chamber, was spreading more and more over the lodging and becoming
+heavy enough to crush the people in it. And the family, in spite of
+itself, gradually fell into the ordinary mode of life, and lost some
+portion of its respect.
+
+“You must have a mouthful with us,” said Gervaise to Madame Lerat and
+Madame Lorilleux, when they returned. “We’re too sad; we must keep
+together.”
+
+They laid the cloth on the work-table. Each one, on seeing the plates,
+thought of the feastings they had had on it. Lantier had returned.
+Lorilleux came down. A pastry-cook had just brought a meat pie, for the
+laundress was too upset to attend to any cooking. As they were taking
+their seats, Boche came to say that Monsieur Marescot asked to be
+admitted, and the landlord appeared, looking very grave, and wearing a
+broad decoration on his frock-coat. He bowed in silence and went
+straight to the little room, where he knelt down. All the family,
+leaving the table, stood up, greatly impressed. Monsieur Marescot,
+having finished his devotions, passed into the shop and said to the
+Coupeaus:
+
+“I have come for the two quarters’ rent that’s overdue. Are you
+prepared to pay?”
+
+“No, sir, not quite,” stammered Gervaise, greatly put out at hearing
+this mentioned before the Lorilleuxs. “You see, with the misfortune
+which has fallen upon us—”
+
+“No doubt, but everyone has their troubles,” resumed the landlord,
+spreading out his immense fingers, which indicated the former workman.
+“I am very sorry, but I cannot wait any longer. If I am not paid by the
+morning after to-morrow, I shall be obliged to have you put out.”
+
+Gervaise, struck dumb, imploringly clasped her hands, her eyes full of
+tears. With an energetic shake of his big bony head, he gave her to
+understand that supplications were useless. Besides, the respect due to
+the dead forbade all discussion. He discreetly retired, walking
+backwards.
+
+“A thousand pardons for having disturbed you,” murmured he. “The
+morning after to-morrow; do not forget.”
+
+And as on withdrawing he again passed before the little room, he
+saluted the corpse a last time through the wide open door by devoutly
+bending his knee.
+
+They began eating and gobbled the food down very quickly, so as not to
+seem to be enjoying it, only slowing down when they reached the
+dessert. Occasionally Gervaise or one of the sisters would get up,
+still holding her napkin, to look into the small room. They made plenty
+of strong coffee to keep them awake through the night. The Poissons
+arrived about eight and were invited for coffee.
+
+Then Lantier, who had been watching Gervaise’s face, seemed to seize an
+opportunity that he had been waiting for ever since the morning. In
+speaking of the indecency of landlords who entered houses of mourning
+to demand their money, he said:
+
+“He’s a Jesuit, the beast, with his air of officiating at a mass! But
+in your place, I’d just chuck up the shop altogether.”
+
+Gervaise, quite worn out and feeling weak and nervous, gave way and
+replied:
+
+“Yes, I shall certainly not wait for the bailiffs. Ah! it’s more than I
+can bear—more than I can bear.”
+
+The Lorilleuxs, delighted at the idea that Clump-clump would no longer
+have a shop, approved the plan immensely. One could hardly conceive the
+great cost a shop was. If she only earned three francs working for
+others she at least had no expenses; she did not risk losing large sums
+of money. They repeated this argument to Coupeau, urging him on; he
+drank a great deal and remained in a continuous fit of sensibility,
+weeping all day by himself in his plate. As the laundress seemed to be
+allowing herself to be convinced, Lantier looked at the Poissons and
+winked. And tall Virginie intervened, making herself most amiable.
+
+“You know, we might arrange the matter between us. I would relieve you
+of the rest of the lease and settle your matter with the landlord. In
+short, you would not be worried nearly so much.”
+
+“No thanks,” declared Gervaise, shaking herself as though she felt a
+shudder pass over her. “I’ll work; I’ve got my two arms, thank heaven!
+to help me out of my difficulties.”
+
+“We can talk about it some other time,” the hatter hastened to put in.
+“It’s scarcely the thing to do so this evening. Some other time—in the
+morning for instance.”
+
+At this moment, Madame Lerat, who had gone into the little room,
+uttered a faint cry. She had had a fright because she had found the
+candle burnt out. They all busied themselves in lighting another; they
+shook their heads, saying that it was not a good sign when the light
+went out beside a corpse.
+
+The wake commenced. Coupeau had gone to lie down, not to sleep, said
+he, but to think; and five minutes afterwards he was snoring. When they
+sent Nana off to sleep at the Boches’ she cried; she had been looking
+forward ever since the morning to being nice and warm in her good
+friend Lantier’s big bed. The Poissons stayed till midnight. Some hot
+wine had been made in a salad-bowl because the coffee affected the
+ladies’ nerves too much. The conversation became tenderly effusive.
+Virginie talked of the country: she would like to be buried at the
+corner of a wood with wild flowers on her grave. Madame Lerat had
+already put by in her wardrobe the sheet for her shroud, and she kept
+it perfumed with a bunch of lavender; she wished always to have a nice
+smell under her nose when she would be eating the dandelions by the
+roots. Then, with no sort of transition, the policeman related that he
+had arrested a fine girl that morning who had been stealing from a
+pork-butcher’s shop; on undressing her at the commissary of police’s
+they had found ten sausages hanging round her body. And Madame
+Lorilleux having remarked, with a look of disgust, that she would not
+eat any of those sausages, the party burst into a gentle laugh. The
+wake became livelier, though not ceasing to preserve appearances.
+
+But just as they were finishing the hot wine a peculiar noise, a dull
+trickling sound, issued from the little room. All raised their heads
+and looked at each other.
+
+“It’s nothing,” said Lantier quietly, lowering his voice. “She’s
+emptying.”
+
+The explanation caused the others to nod their heads in a reassured
+way, and they replaced their glasses on the table.
+
+When the Poissons left for home, Lantier left also, saying he would
+sleep with a friend and leave his bed for the ladies in case they
+wanted to take turns napping. Lorilleux went upstairs to bed. Gervaise
+and the two sisters arranged themselves by the stove where they huddled
+together close to the warmth, talking quietly. Coupeau was still
+snoring.
+
+Madame Lorilleux was complaining that she didn’t have a black dress and
+asked Gervaise about the black skirt they had given mother Coupeau on
+her saint’s day. Gervaise went to look for it. Madame Lorilleux then
+wanted some of the old linen and mentioned the bed, the wardrobe, and
+the two chairs as she looked around for other odds and ends. Madame
+Lerat had to serve as peace maker when a quarrel nearly broke out. She
+pointed out that as the Coupeaus had cared for their mother, they
+deserved to keep the few things she had left. Soon they were all dozing
+around the stove.
+
+The night seemed terribly long to them. Now and again they shook
+themselves, drank some coffee and stretched their necks in the
+direction of the little room, where the candle, which was not to be
+snuffed, was burning with a dull red flame, flickering the more because
+of the black soot on the wick. Towards morning, they shivered, in spite
+of the great heat of the stove. Anguish, and the fatigue of having
+talked too much was stifling them, whilst their mouths were parched,
+and their eyes ached. Madame Lerat threw herself on Lantier’s bed, and
+snored as loud as a man; whilst the other two, their heads falling
+forward, and almost touching their knees, slept before the fire. At
+daybreak, a shudder awoke them. Mother Coupeau’s candle had again gone
+out; and as, in the obscurity, the dull trickling sound recommenced,
+Madame Lorilleux gave the explanation of it anew in a loud voice, so as
+to reassure herself:
+
+“She’s emptying,” repeated she, lighting another candle.
+
+The funeral was to take place at half-past ten. A nice morning to add
+to the night and the day before! Gervaise, though without a sou, said
+she would have given a hundred francs to anybody who would have come
+and taken mother Coupeau away three hours sooner. No, one may love
+people, but they are too great a weight when they are dead; and the
+more one has loved them, the sooner one would like to be rid of their
+bodies.
+
+The morning of a funeral is, fortunately, full of diversions. One has
+all sorts of preparations to make. To begin with, they lunched. Then it
+happened to be old Bazouge, the undertaker’s helper, who lived on the
+sixth floor, who brought the coffin and the sack of bran. He was never
+sober, the worthy fellow. At eight o’clock that day, he was still
+lively from the booze of the day before.
+
+“This is for here, isn’t it?” asked he.
+
+And he laid down the coffin, which creaked like a new box. But as he
+was throwing the sack of bran on one side, he stood with a look of
+amazement in his eyes, his mouth opened wide, on beholding Gervaise
+before him.
+
+“Beg pardon, excuse me. I’ve made a mistake,” stammered he. “I was told
+it was for you.”
+
+He had already taken up the sack again, and the laundress was obliged
+to call to him:
+
+“Leave it alone, it’s for here.”
+
+“Ah! _Mon Dieu!_ Now I understand!” resumed he, slapping his thigh.
+“It’s for the old lady.”
+
+Gervaise had turned quite pale. Old Bazouge had brought the coffin for
+her. By way of apology, he tried to be gallant, and continued:
+
+“I’m not to blame, am I? It was said yesterday that someone on the
+ground floor had passed away. Then I thought—you know, in our business,
+these things enter by one ear and go out by the other. All the same, my
+compliments to you. As late as possible, eh? That’s best, though life
+isn’t always amusing; ah! no, by no means.”
+
+As Gervaise listened to him, she draw back, afraid he would grab her
+and take her away in the box. She remembered the time before, when he
+had told her he knew of women who would thank him to come and get them.
+Well, she wasn’t ready yet. _Mon Dieu!_ The thought sent chills down
+her spine. Her life may have been bitter, but she wasn’t ready to give
+it up yet. No, she would starve for years first.
+
+“He’s abominably drunk,” murmured she, with an air of disgust mingled
+with dread. “They at least oughtn’t to send us tipplers. We pay dear
+enough.”
+
+Then he became insolent, and jeered:
+
+“See here, little woman, it’s only put off until another time. I’m
+entirely at your service, remember! You’ve only to make me a sign. I’m
+the ladies’ consoler. And don’t spit on old Bazouge, because he’s held
+in his arms finer ones than you, who let themselves be tucked in
+without a murmur, very pleased to continue their by-by in the dark.”
+
+“Hold your tongue, old Bazouge!” said Lorilleux severely, having
+hastened to the spot on hearing the noise, “such jokes are highly
+improper. If we complained about you, you would get the sack. Come, be
+off, as you’ve no respect for principles.”
+
+Bazouge moved away, but one could hear him stuttering as he dragged
+along the pavement:
+
+“Well! What? Principles! There’s no such thing as principles, there’s
+no such thing as principles—there’s only common decency!”
+
+At length ten o’clock struck. The hearse was late. There were already
+several people in the shop, friends and neighbors—Monsieur Madinier,
+My-Boots, Madame Gaudron, Mademoiselle Remanjou; and every minute, a
+man’s or a woman’s head was thrust out of the gaping opening of the
+door between the closed shutters, to see if that creeping hearse was in
+sight. The family, all together in the back room, was shaking hands.
+Short pauses occurred interrupted by rapid whisperings, a tiresome and
+feverish waiting with sudden rushes of skirts—Madame Lorilleux who had
+forgotten her handkerchief, or else Madame Lerat who was trying to
+borrow a prayer-book. Everyone, on arriving, beheld the open coffin in
+the centre of the little room before the bed; and in spite of oneself,
+each stood covertly studying it, calculating that plump mother Coupeau
+would never fit into it. They all looked at each other with this
+thought in their eyes, though without communicating it. But there was a
+slight pushing at the front door. Monsieur Madinier, extending his
+arms, came and said in a low grave voice:
+
+“Here they are!”
+
+It was not the hearse though. Four helpers entered hastily in single
+file, with their red faces, their hands all lumpy like persons in the
+habit of moving heavy things, and their rusty black clothes worn and
+frayed from constant rubbing against coffins. Old Bazouge walked first,
+very drunk and very proper. As soon as he was at work he found his
+equilibrium. They did not utter a word, but slightly bowed their heads,
+already weighing mother Coupeau with a glance. And they did not dawdle;
+the poor old woman was packed in, in the time one takes to sneeze. A
+young fellow with a squint, the smallest of the men, poured the bran
+into the coffin and spread it out. The tall and thin one spread the
+winding sheet over the bran. Then, two at the feet and two at the head,
+all four took hold of the body and lifted it. Mother Coupeau was in the
+box, but it was a tight fit. She touched on every side.
+
+The undertaker’s helpers were now standing up and waiting; the little
+one with the squint took the coffin lid, by way of inviting the family
+to bid their last farewell, whilst Bazouge had filled his mouth with
+nails and was holding the hammer in readiness. Then Coupeau, his two
+sisters and Gervaise threw themselves on their knees and kissed the
+mamma who was going away, weeping bitterly, the hot tears falling on
+and streaming down the stiff face now cold as ice. There was a
+prolonged sound of sobbing. The lid was placed on, and old Bazouge
+knocked the nails in with the style of a packer, two blows for each;
+and they none of them listened any longer to their own weeping in that
+din, which resembled the noise of furniture being repaired. It was
+over. The time for starting had arrived.
+
+“What a fuss to make at such a time!” said Madame Lorilleux to her
+husband as she caught sight of the hearse before the door.
+
+The hearse was creating quite a revolution in the neighborhood. The
+tripe-seller called to the grocer’s men, the little clockmaker came out
+on to the pavement, the neighbors leant out of their windows; and all
+these people talked about the scallop with its white cotton fringe. Ah!
+the Coupeaus would have done better to have paid their debts. But as
+the Lorilleuxs said, when one is proud it shows itself everywhere and
+in spite of everything.
+
+“It’s shameful!” Gervaise was saying at the same moment, speaking of
+the chainmaker and his wife. “To think that those skinflints have not
+even brought a bunch of violets for their mother!”
+
+The Lorilleuxs, true enough, had come empty-handed. Madame Lerat had
+given a wreath of artificial flowers. And a wreath of immortelles and a
+bouquet bought by the Coupeaus were also placed on the coffin. The
+undertaker’s helpers had to give a mighty heave to lift the coffin and
+carry it to the hearse. It was some time before the procession was
+formed. Coupeau and Lorilleux, in frock coats and with their hats in
+their hands, were chief mourners. The first, in his emotion which two
+glasses of white wine early in the morning had helped to sustain, clung
+to his brother-in-law’s arm, with no strength in his legs, and a
+violent headache. Then followed the other men—Monsieur Madinier, very
+grave and all in black; My-Boots, wearing a great-coat over his blouse;
+Boche, whose yellow trousers produced the effect of a petard; Lantier,
+Gaudron, Bibi-the-Smoker, Poisson and others. The ladies came next—in
+the first row Madame Lorilleux, dragging the deceased’s skirt, which
+she had altered; Madame Lerat, hiding under a shawl her hastily got-up
+mourning, a gown with lilac trimmings; and following them, Virginie,
+Madame Gaudron, Madame Fauconnier, Mademoiselle Remanjou and the rest.
+When the hearse started and slowly descended the Rue de la Goutte-d’Or,
+amidst signs of the cross and heads bared, the four helpers took the
+lead, two in front, the two others on the right and left. Gervaise had
+remained behind to close the shop. She left Nana with Madame Boche and
+ran to rejoin the procession, whilst the child, firmly held by the
+concierge under the porch, watched with a deeply interested gaze her
+grandmother disappear at the end of the street in that beautiful
+carriage.
+
+At the moment when Gervaise caught up with the procession, Goujet
+arrived from another direction. He nodded to her so sympathetically
+that she was reminded of how unhappy she was, and began to cry again as
+Goujet took his place with the men.
+
+The ceremony at the church was soon got through. The mass dragged a
+little, though, because the priest was very old. My-Boots and
+Bibi-the-Smoker preferred to remain outside on account of the
+collection. Monsieur Madinier studied the priests all the while, and
+communicated his observations to Lantier. Those jokers, though so glib
+with their Latin, did not even know a word of what they were saying.
+They buried a person just in the same way that they would have baptized
+or married him, without the least feeling in their heart.
+
+Happily, the cemetery was not far off, the little cemetery of La
+Chapelle, a bit of a garden which opened on to the Rue Marcadet. The
+procession arrived disbanded, with stampings of feet and everybody
+talking of his own affairs. The hard earth resounded, and many would
+have liked to have moved about to keep themselves warm. The gaping hole
+beside which the coffin was laid was already frozen over, and looked
+white and stony, like a plaster quarry; and the followers, grouped
+round little heaps of gravel, did not find it pleasant standing in such
+piercing cold, whilst looking at the hole likewise bored them. At
+length a priest in a surplice came out of a little cottage. He
+shivered, and one could see his steaming breath at each _de profundis_
+that he uttered. At the final sign of the cross he bolted off, without
+the least desire to go through the service again. The sexton took his
+shovel, but on account of the frost, he was only able to detach large
+lumps of earth, which beat a fine tune down below, a regular
+bombardment of the coffin, an enfilade of artillery sufficient to make
+one think the wood was splitting. One may be a cynic; nevertheless that
+sort of music soon upsets one’s stomach. The weeping recommenced. They
+moved off, they even got outside, but they still heard the detonations.
+My-Boots, blowing on his fingers, uttered an observation aloud.
+
+“_Tonnerre de Dieu!_ poor mother Coupeau won’t feel very warm!”
+
+“Ladies and gentlemen,” said the zinc-worker to the few friends who
+remained in the street with the family, “will you permit us to offer
+you some refreshments?”
+
+He led the way to a wine shop in the Rue Marcadet, the “Arrival at the
+Cemetery.” Gervaise, remaining outside, called Goujet, who was moving
+off, after again nodding to her. Why didn’t he accept a glass of wine?
+He was in a hurry; he was going back to the workshop. Then they looked
+at each other a moment without speaking.
+
+“I must ask your pardon for troubling you about the sixty francs,” at
+length murmured the laundress. “I was half crazy, I thought of you—”
+
+“Oh! don’t mention it; you’re fully forgiven,” interrupted the
+blacksmith. “And you know, I am quite at your service if any misfortune
+should overtake you. But don’t say anything to mamma, because she has
+her ideas, and I don’t wish to cause her annoyance.”
+
+She gazed at him. He seemed to her such a good man, and sad-looking,
+and so handsome. She was on the verge of accepting his former proposal,
+to go away with him and find happiness together somewhere else. Then an
+evil thought came to her. It was the idea of borrowing the six months’
+back rent from him.
+
+She trembled and resumed in a caressing tone of voice:
+
+“We’re still friends, aren’t we?”
+
+He shook his head as he answered:
+
+“Yes, we’ll always be friends. It’s just that, you know, all is over
+between us.”
+
+And he went off with long strides, leaving Gervaise bewildered,
+listening to his last words which rang in her ears with the clang of a
+big bell. On entering the wine shop, she seemed to hear a hollow voice
+within her which said, “All is over, well! All is over; there is
+nothing more for me to do if all is over!” Sitting down, she swallowed
+a mouthful of bread and cheese, and emptied a glass full of wine which
+she found before her.
+
+The wine shop was a single, long room with a low ceiling occupied by
+two large tables on which loaves of bread, large chunks of Brie cheese
+and bottles of wine were set out. They ate informally, without a
+tablecloth. Near the stove at the back the undertaker’s helpers were
+finishing their lunch.
+
+“_Mon Dieu!_” exclaimed Monsieur Madinier, “we each have our time. The
+old folks make room for the young ones. Your lodging will seem very
+empty to you now when you go home.”
+
+“Oh! my brother is going to give notice,” said Madame Lorilleux
+quickly. “That shop’s ruined.”
+
+They had been working upon Coupeau. Everyone was urging him to give up
+the lease. Madame Lerat herself, who had been on very good terms with
+Lantier and Virginie for some time past, and who was tickled with the
+idea that they were a trifle smitten with each other, talked of
+bankruptcy and prison, putting on the most terrified airs. And
+suddenly, the zinc-worker, already overdosed with liquor, flew into a
+passion, his emotion turned to fury.
+
+“Listen,” cried he, poking his nose in his wife’s face; “I intend that
+you shall listen to me! Your confounded head will always have its own
+way. But, this time, I intend to have mine, I warn you!”
+
+“Ah! well,” said Lantier, “one never yet brought her to reason by fair
+words; it wants a mallet to drive it into her head.”
+
+For a time they both went on at her. Meanwhile, the Brie was quickly
+disappearing and the wine bottles were pouring like fountains. Gervaise
+began to weaken under this persistent pounding. She answered nothing,
+but hurried herself, her mouth ever full, as though she had been very
+hungry. When they got tired, she gently raised her head and said:
+
+“That’s enough, isn’t it? I don’t care a straw for the shop! I want no
+more of it. Do you understand? It can go to the deuce! All is over!”
+
+Then they ordered some more bread and cheese and talked business. The
+Poissons took the rest of the lease and agreed to be answerable for the
+two quarters’ rent overdue. Boche, moreover, pompously agreed to the
+arrangement in the landlord’s name. He even then and there let a
+lodging to the Coupeaus—the vacant one on the sixth floor, in the same
+passage as the Lorilleuxs’ apartment. As for Lantier, well! He would
+like to keep his room, if it did not inconvenience the Poissons. The
+policeman bowed; it did not inconvenience him at all; friends always
+get on together, in spite of any difference in their political ideas.
+And Lantier, without mixing himself up any more in the matter, like a
+man who has at length settled his little business, helped himself to an
+enormous slice of bread and cheese; he leant back in his chair and ate
+devoutly, his blood tingling beneath his skin, his whole body burning
+with a sly joy, and he blinked his eyes to peep first at Gervaise, and
+then at Virginie.
+
+“Hi! Old Bazouge!” called Coupeau, “come and have a drink. We’re not
+proud; we’re all workers.”
+
+The four undertaker’s helpers, who had started to leave, came back to
+raise glasses with the group. They thought that the lady had weighed
+quite a bit and they had certainly earned a glass of wine. Old Bazouge
+gazed steadily at Gervaise without saying a word. It made her feel
+uneasy though and she got up and left the men who were beginning to
+show signs of being drunk. Coupeau began to sob again, saying he was
+feeling very sad.
+
+That evening when Gervaise found herself at home again, she remained in
+a stupefied state on a chair. It seemed to her that the rooms were
+immense and deserted. Really, it would be a good riddance. But it was
+certainly not only mother Coupeau that she had left at the bottom of
+the hole in the little garden of the Rue Marcadet. She missed too many
+things, most likely a part of her life, and her shop, and her pride of
+being an employer, and other feelings besides, which she had buried on
+that day. Yes, the walls were bare, and her heart also; it was a
+complete clear out, a tumble into the pit. And she felt too tired; she
+would pick herself up again later on if she could.
+
+At ten o’clock, when undressing, Nana cried and stamped. She wanted to
+sleep in mother Coupeau’s bed. Her mother tried to frighten her; but
+the child was too precocious. Corpses only filled her with a great
+curiosity; so that, for the sake of peace, she was allowed to lie down
+in mother Coupeau’s place. She liked big beds, the chit; she spread
+herself out and rolled about. She slept uncommonly well that night in
+the warm and pleasant feather bed.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER X
+
+
+The Coupeaus’ new lodging was on the sixth floor, staircase B. After
+passing Mademoiselle Remanjou’s door, you took the corridor to the
+left, and then turned again further along. The first door was for the
+apartment of the Bijards. Almost opposite, in an airless corner under a
+small staircase leading to the roof, was where Pere Bru slept. Two
+doors further was Bazouge’s room and the Coupeaus were opposite him,
+overlooking the court, with one room and a closet. There were only two
+more doors along the corridor before reaching that of the Lorilleuxs at
+the far end.
+
+A room and a closet, no more. The Coupeaus perched there now. And the
+room was scarcely larger than one’s hand. And they had to do everything
+in there—eat, sleep, and all the rest. Nana’s bed just squeezed into
+the closet; she had to dress in her father and mother’s room, and her
+door was kept open at night-time so that she should not be suffocated.
+There was so little space that Gervaise had left many things in the
+shop for the Poissons. A bed, a table, and four chairs completely
+filled their new apartment but she didn’t have the courage to part with
+her old bureau and so it blocked off half the window. This made the
+room dark and gloomy, especially since one shutter was stuck shut.
+Gervaise was now so fat that there wasn’t room for her in the limited
+window space and she had to lean sideways and crane her neck if she
+wanted to see the courtyard.
+
+During the first few days, the laundress would continually sit down and
+cry. It seemed to her too hard, not being able to move about in her
+home, after having been used to so much room. She felt stifled; she
+remained at the window for hours, squeezed between the wall and the
+drawers and getting a stiff neck. It was only there that she could
+breathe freely. However, the courtyard inspired rather melancholy
+thoughts. Opposite her, on the sunny side, she would see that same
+window she had dreamed about long ago where the spring brought scarlet
+vines. Her own room was on the shady side where pots of mignonette died
+within a week. Oh, this wasn’t at all the sort of life she had dreamed
+of. She had to wallow in filth instead of having flowers all about her.
+
+On leaning out one day, Gervaise experienced a peculiar sensation: she
+fancied she beheld herself down below, near the concierge’s room under
+the porch, her nose in the air, and examining the house for the first
+time; and this leap thirteen years backwards caused her heart to throb.
+The courtyard was a little dingier and the walls more stained,
+otherwise it hadn’t changed much. But she herself felt terribly changed
+and worn. To begin with, she was no longer below, her face raised to
+heaven, feeling content and courageous and aspiring to a handsome
+lodging. She was right up under the roof, among the most wretched, in
+the dirtiest hole, the part that never received a ray of sunshine. And
+that explained her tears; she could scarcely feel enchanted with her
+fate.
+
+However, when Gervaise had grown somewhat used to it, the early days of
+the little family in their new home did not pass off so badly. The
+winter was almost over, and the trifle of money received for the
+furniture sold to Virginie helped to make things comfortable. Then with
+the fine weather came a piece of luck, Coupeau was engaged to work in
+the country at Etampes; and he was there for nearly three months
+without once getting drunk, cured for a time by the fresh air. One has
+no idea what a quench it is to the tippler’s thirst to leave Paris
+where the very streets are full of the fumes of wine and brandy. On his
+return he was as fresh as a rose, and he brought back in his pocket
+four hundred francs with which they paid the two overdue quarters’ rent
+at the shop that the Poissons had become answerable for, and also the
+most pressing of their little debts in the neighborhood. Gervaise thus
+opened two or three streets through which she had not passed for a long
+time.
+
+She had naturally become an ironer again. Madame Fauconnier was quite
+good-hearted if you flattered her a bit, and she was happy to take
+Gervaise back, even paying her the same three francs a day as her best
+worker. This was out of respect for her former status as an employer.
+The household seemed to be getting on well and Gervaise looked forward
+to the day when all the debts would be paid. Hard work and economy
+would solve all their money troubles. Unfortunately, she dreamed of
+this in the warm satisfaction of the large sum earned by her husband.
+Soon, she said that the good things never lasted and took things as
+they came.
+
+What the Coupeaus most suffered from at that time was seeing the
+Poissons installing themselves at their former shop. They were not
+naturally of a particularly jealous disposition, but people aggravated
+them by purposely expressing amazement in their presence at the
+embellishments of their successors. The Boches and the Lorilleuxs
+especially, never tired. According to them, no one had ever seen so
+beautiful a shop. They were also continually mentioning the filthy
+state in which the Poissons had found the premises, saying that it had
+cost thirty francs for the cleaning alone.
+
+After much deliberation, Virginie had decided to open a shop
+specializing in candies, chocolate, coffee and tea. Lantier had advised
+this, saying there was much money to be made from such delicacies. The
+shop was stylishly painted black with yellow stripes. Three carpenters
+worked for eight days on the interior, putting up shelves, display
+cases and counters. Poisson’s small inheritance must have been almost
+completely used, but Virginie was ecstatic. The Lorilleuxs and the
+Boches made sure that Gervaise did not miss a single improvement and
+chuckled to themselves while watching her expression.
+
+There was also a question of a man beneath all this. It was reported
+that Lantier had broken off with Gervaise. The neighborhood declared
+that it was quite right. In short, it gave a moral tone to the street.
+And all the honor of the separation was accorded to the crafty hatter
+on whom all the ladies continued to dote. Some said that she was still
+crazy about him and he had to slap her to make her leave him alone. Of
+course, no one told the actual truth. It was too simple and not
+interesting enough.
+
+Actually Lantier climbed to the sixth floor to see her whenever he felt
+the impulse. Mademoiselle Remanjou had often seen him coming out of the
+Coupeaus’ at odd hours.
+
+The situation was even more complicated by neighborhood gossip linking
+Lantier and Virginie. The neighbors were a bit too hasty in this also;
+he had not even reached the stage of buttock-pinching with her. Still,
+the Lorilleuxs delighted in talking sympathetically to Gervaise about
+the affair between Lantier and Virginie. The Boches maintained they had
+never seen a more handsome couple. The odd thing in all this was that
+the Rue de la Goutte-d’Or seemed to have no objection to this new
+arrangement which everyone thought was progressing nicely. Those who
+had been so harsh to Gervaise were now quite lenient toward Virginie.
+
+Gervaise had previously heard numerous reports about Lantier’s affairs
+with all sorts of girls on the street and they had bothered her so
+little that she hadn’t even felt enough resentment to break off the
+affair. However, this new intrigue with Virginie wasn’t quite so easy
+to accept because she was sure that the two of them were just out to
+spite her. She hid her resentment though to avoid giving any
+satisfaction to her enemies. Mademoiselle Remanjou thought that
+Gervaise had words with Lantier over this because one afternoon she
+heard the sound of a slap. There was certainly a quarrel because
+Lantier stopped speaking to Gervaise for a couple of weeks, but then he
+was the first one to make up and things seemed to go along the same as
+before.
+
+Coupeau found all this most amusing. The complacent husband who had
+been blind to his own situation laughed heartily at Poisson’s
+predicament. Then Coupeau even teased Gervaise. Her lovers always
+dropped her. First the blacksmith and now the hatmaker. The trouble was
+that she got involved with undependable trades. She should take up with
+a mason, a good solid man. He said such things as if he were joking,
+but they upset Gervaise because his small grey eyes seemed to be boring
+right into her.
+
+On evenings when Coupeau became bored being alone with his wife up in
+their tiny hole under the roof, he would go down for Lantier and invite
+him up. He thought their dump was too dreary without Lantier’s company
+so he patched things up between Gervaise and Lantier whenever they had
+a falling out.
+
+In the midst of all this Lantier put on the most consequential airs. He
+showed himself both paternal and dignified. On three successive
+occasions he had prevented a quarrel between the Coupeaus and the
+Poissons. The good understanding between the two families formed a part
+of his contentment. Thanks to the tender though firm glances with which
+he watched over Gervaise and Virginie, they always pretended to
+entertain a great friendship for each other. He reigned over both
+blonde and brunette with the tranquillity of a pasha, and fattened on
+his cunning. The rogue was still digesting the Coupeaus when he already
+began to devour the Poissons. Oh, it did not inconvenience him much! As
+soon as one shop was swallowed, he started on a second. It was only men
+of his sort who ever have any luck.
+
+It was in June of that year that Nana was confirmed. She was then
+nearly thirteen years old, as tall as an asparagus shoot run to seed,
+and had a bold, impudent air about her. The year before she had been
+sent away from the catechism class on account of her bad behavior; and
+the priest had only allowed her to join it this time through fear of
+losing her altogether, and of casting one more heathen onto the street.
+Nana danced for joy as she thought of the white dress. The Lorilleuxs,
+being godfather and godmother, had promised to provide it, and took
+care to let everyone in the house know of their present. Madame Lerat
+was to give the veil and the cap, Virginie the purse, and Lantier the
+prayer-book; so that the Coupeaus looked forward to the ceremony
+without any great anxiety. Even the Poissons, wishing to give a
+house-warming, chose this occasion, no doubt on the hatter’s advice.
+They invited the Coupeaus and the Boches, whose little girl was also
+going to be confirmed. They provided a leg of mutton and trimmings for
+the evening in question.
+
+It so happened that on the evening before, Coupeau returned home in a
+most abominable condition, just as Nana was lost in admiration before
+the presents spread out on the top of the chest of drawers. The Paris
+atmosphere was getting the better of him again; and he fell foul of his
+wife and child with drunken arguments and disgusting language which no
+one should have uttered at such a time. Nana herself was beginning to
+get hold of some very bad expressions in the midst of the filthy
+conversations she was continually hearing. On the days when there was a
+row, she would often call her mother an old camel and a cow.
+
+“Where’s my food?” yelled the zinc-worker. “I want my soup, you couple
+of jades! There’s females for you, always thinking of finery! I’ll sit
+on the gee-gaws, you know, if I don’t get my soup!”
+
+“He’s unbearable when he’s drunk,” murmured Gervaise, out of patience;
+and turning towards him, she exclaimed:
+
+“It’s warming up, don’t bother us.”
+
+Nana was being modest, because she thought it nice on such a day. She
+continued to look at the presents on the chest of drawers, affectedly
+lowering her eyelids and pretending not to understand her father’s
+naughty words. But the zinc-worker was an awful plague on the nights
+when he had had too much. Poking his face right against her neck, he
+said:
+
+“I’ll give you white dresses! So the finery tickles your fancy. They
+excite your imagination. Just you cut away from there, you ugly little
+brat! Move your hands about, bundle them all into a drawer!”
+
+Nana, with bowed head, did not answer a word. She had taken up the
+little tulle cap and was asking her mother how much it cost. And as
+Coupeau thrust out his hand to seize hold of the cap, it was Gervaise
+who pushed him aside exclaiming:
+
+“Do leave the child alone! She’s very good, she’s doing no harm.”
+
+Then the zinc-worker let out in real earnest.
+
+“Ah! the viragos! The mother and daughter, they make the pair. It’s a
+nice thing to go to church just to leer at the men. Dare to say it
+isn’t true, little slattern! I’ll dress you in a sack, just to disgust
+you, you and your priests. I don’t want you to be taught anything worse
+than you know already. _Mon Dieu!_ Just listen to me, both of you!”
+
+At this Nana turned round in a fury, whilst Gervaise had to spread out
+her arms to protect the things which Coupeau talked of tearing. The
+child looked her father straight in the face; then, forgetting the
+modest bearing inculcated by her confessor, she said, clinching her
+teeth: “Pig!”
+
+As soon as the zinc-worker had had his soup he went off to sleep. On
+the morrow he awoke in a very good humor. He still felt a little of the
+booze of the day before but only just sufficient to make him amiable.
+He assisted at the dressing of the child, deeply affected by the white
+dress and finding that a mere nothing gave the little vermin quite the
+look of a young lady.
+
+The two families started off together for the church. Nana and Pauline
+walked first, their prayer-books in their hands and holding down their
+veils on account of the wind; they did not speak but were bursting with
+delight at seeing people come to their shop-doors, and they smiled
+primly and devoutly every time they heard anyone say as they passed
+that they looked very nice. Madame Boche and Madame Lorilleux lagged
+behind, because they were interchanging their ideas about Clump-clump,
+a gobble-all, whose daughter would never have been confirmed if the
+relations had not found everything for her; yes, everything, even a new
+chemise, out of respect for the holy altar. Madame Lorilleux was rather
+concerned about the dress, calling Nana a dirty thing every time the
+child got dust on her skirt by brushing against the store fronts.
+
+At church Coupeau wept all the time. It was stupid but he could not
+help it. It affected him to see the priest holding out his arms and all
+the little girls, looking like angels, pass before him, clasping their
+hands; and the music of the organ stirred up his stomach and the
+pleasant smell of the incense forced him to sniff, the same as though
+someone had thrust a bouquet of flowers into his face. In short he saw
+everything cerulean, his heart was touched. Anyway, other sensitive
+souls around him were wetting their handkerchiefs. This was a beautiful
+day, the most beautiful of his life. After leaving the church, Coupeau
+went for a drink with Lorilleux, who had remained dry-eyed.
+
+That evening the Poissons’ house-warming was very lively. Friendship
+reigned without a hitch from one end of the feast to the other. When
+bad times arrive one thus comes in for some pleasant evenings, hours
+during which sworn enemies love each other. Lantier, with Gervaise on
+his left and Virginie on his right, was most amiable to both of them,
+lavishing little tender caresses like a cock who desires peace in his
+poultry-yard. But the queens of the feast were the two little ones,
+Nana and Pauline, who had been allowed to keep on their things; they
+sat bolt upright through fear of spilling anything on their white
+dresses and at every mouthful they were told to hold up their chins so
+as to swallow cleanly. Nana, greatly bored by all this fuss, ended by
+slobbering her wine over the body of her dress, so it was taken off and
+the stains were at once washed out in a glass of water.
+
+Then at dessert the children’s future careers were gravely discussed.
+
+Madame Boche had decided that Pauline would enter a shop to learn how
+to punch designs on gold and silver. That paid five or six francs a
+day. Gervaise didn’t know yet because Nana had never indicated any
+preference.
+
+“In your place,” said Madame Lerat, “I would bring Nana up as an
+artificial flower-maker. It is a pleasant and clean employment.”
+
+“Flower-makers?” muttered Lorilleux. “Every one of them might as well
+walk the streets.”
+
+“Well, what about me?” objected Madame Lerat, pursing her lips. “You’re
+certainly not very polite. I assure you that I don’t lie down for
+anyone who whistles.”
+
+Then all the rest joined together in hushing her. “Madame Lerat! Oh,
+Madame Lerat!” By side glances they reminded her of the two girls,
+fresh from communion, who were burying their noses in their glasses to
+keep from laughing out loud. The men had been very careful, for
+propriety’s sake, to use only suitable language, but Madame Lerat
+refused to follow their example. She flattered herself on her command
+of language, as she had often been complimented on the way she could
+say anything before children, without any offence to decency.
+
+“Just you listen, there are some very fine women among the
+flower-makers!” she insisted. “They’re just like other women and they
+show good taste when they choose to commit a sin.”
+
+“_Mon Dieu!_” interrupted Gervaise, “I’ve no dislike for artificial
+flower-making. Only it must please Nana, that’s all I care about; one
+should never thwart children on the question of a vocation. Come Nana,
+don’t be stupid; tell me now, would you like to make flowers?”
+
+The child was leaning over her plate gathering up the cake crumbs with
+her wet finger, which she afterwards sucked. She did not hurry herself.
+She grinned in her vicious way.
+
+“Why yes, mamma, I should like to,” she ended by declaring.
+
+Then the matter was at once settled. Coupeau was quite willing that
+Madame Lerat should take the child with her on the morrow to the place
+where she worked in the Rue du Caire. And they all talked very gravely
+of the duties of life. Boche said that Nana and Pauline were women now
+that they had partaken of communion. Poisson added that for the future
+they ought to know how to cook, mend socks and look after a house.
+Something was even said of their marrying, and of the children they
+would some day have. The youngsters listened, laughing to themselves,
+elated by the thought of being women. What pleased them the most was
+when Lantier teased them, asking if they didn’t already have little
+husbands. Nana eventually admitted that she cared a great deal for
+Victor Fauconnier, son of her mother’s employer.
+
+“Ah well,” said Madame Lorilleux to the Boches, as they were all
+leaving, “she’s our goddaughter, but as they’re going to put her into
+artificial flower-making, we don’t wish to have anything more to do
+with her. Just one more for the boulevards. She’ll be leading them a
+merry chase before six months are over.”
+
+On going up to bed, the Coupeaus agreed that everything had passed off
+well and that the Poissons were not at all bad people. Gervaise even
+considered the shop was nicely got up. She was surprised to discover
+that it hadn’t pained her at all to spend an evening there. While Nana
+was getting ready for bed she contemplated her white dress and asked
+her mother if the young lady on the third floor had had one like it
+when she was married last month.
+
+This was their last happy day. Two years passed by, during which they
+sank deeper and deeper. The winters were especially hard for them. If
+they had bread to eat during the fine weather, the rain and cold came
+accompanied by famine, by drubbings before the empty cupboard, and by
+dinner-hours with nothing to eat in the little Siberia of their larder.
+Villainous December brought numbing freezing spells and the black
+misery of cold and dampness.
+
+The first winter they occasionally had a fire, choosing to keep warm
+rather than to eat. But the second winter, the stove stood mute with
+its rust, adding a chill to the room, standing there like a cast-iron
+gravestone. And what took the life out of their limbs, what above all
+utterly crushed them was the rent. Oh! the January quarter, when there
+was not a radish in the house and old Boche came up with the bill! It
+was like a bitter storm, a regular tempest from the north. Monsieur
+Marescot then arrived the following Saturday, wrapped up in a good warm
+overcoat, his big hands hidden in woolen gloves; and he was for ever
+talking of turning them out, whilst the snow continued to fall outside,
+as though it were preparing a bed for them on the pavement with white
+sheets. To have paid the quarter’s rent they would have sold their very
+flesh. It was the rent which emptied the larder and the stove.
+
+No doubt the Coupeaus had only themselves to blame. Life may be a hard
+fight, but one always pulls through when one is orderly and
+economical—witness the Lorilleuxs, who paid their rent to the day, the
+money folded up in bits of dirty paper. But they, it is true, led a
+life of starved spiders, which would disgust one with hard work. Nana
+as yet earned nothing at flower-making; she even cost a good deal for
+her keep. At Madame Fauconnier’s Gervaise was beginning to be looked
+down upon. She was no longer so expert. She bungled her work to such an
+extent that the mistress had reduced her wages to two francs a day, the
+price paid to the clumsiest bungler. But she was still proud, reminding
+everyone of her former status as boss of her own shop. When Madame
+Fauconnier hired Madame Putois, Gervaise was so annoyed at having to
+work beside her former employee that she stayed away for two weeks.
+
+As for Coupeau, he did perhaps work, but in that case he certainly made
+a present of his labor to the Government, for since the time he
+returned from Etampes Gervaise had never seen the color of his money.
+She no longer looked in his hands when he came home on paydays. He
+arrived swinging his arms, his pockets empty, and often without his
+handkerchief; well, yes, he had lost his rag, or else some rascally
+comrade had sneaked it. At first he always fibbed; there was a donation
+to charity, or some money slipped through the hole in his pocket, or he
+paid off some imaginary debts. Later, he didn’t even bother to make up
+anything. He had nothing left because it had all gone into his stomach.
+
+Madame Boche suggested to Gervaise that she go to wait for him at the
+shop exit. This rarely worked though, because Coupeau’s comrades would
+warn him and the money would disappear into his shoe or someone else’s
+pocket.
+
+Yes, it was their own fault if every season found them lower and lower.
+But that’s the sort of thing one never tells oneself, especially when
+one is down in the mire. They accused their bad luck; they pretended
+that fate was against them. Their home had become a regular shambles
+where they wrangled the whole day long. However, they had not yet come
+to blows, with the exception of a few impulsive smacks, which somehow
+flew about at the height of their quarrels. The saddest part of the
+business was that they had opened the cage of affection; all their
+better feelings had taken flight, like so many canaries. The genial
+warmth of father, mother and child, when united together and wrapped up
+in each other, deserted them, and left them shivering, each in his or
+her own corner. All three—Coupeau, Gervaise and Nana—were always in the
+most abominable tempers, biting each other’s noses off for nothing at
+all, their eyes full of hatred; and it seemed as though something had
+broken the mainspring of the family, the mechanism which, with happy
+people, causes hearts to beat in unison. Ah! it was certain Gervaise
+was no longer moved as she used to be when she saw Coupeau at the edge
+of a roof forty or fifty feet above the pavement. She would not have
+pushed him off herself, but if he had fallen accidentally, in truth it
+would have freed the earth of one who was of but little account. The
+days when they were more especially at enmity she would ask him why he
+didn’t come back on a stretcher. She was awaiting it. It would be her
+good luck they were bringing back to her. What use was he—that
+drunkard? To make her weep, to devour all she possessed, to drive her
+to sin. Well! Men so useless as he should be thrown as quickly as
+possible into the hole and the polka of deliverance be danced over
+them. And when the mother said “Kill him!” the daughter responded
+“Knock him on the head!” Nana read all of the reports of accidents in
+the newspapers, and made reflections that were unnatural for a girl.
+Her father had such good luck an omnibus had knocked him down without
+even sobering him. Would the beggar never croak?
+
+In the midst of her own poverty Gervaise suffered even more because
+other families around her were also starving to death. Their corner of
+the tenement housed the most wretched. There was not a family that ate
+every day.
+
+Gervaise felt the most pity for Pere Bru in his cubbyhole under the
+staircase where he hibernated. Sometimes he stayed on his bed of straw
+without moving for days. Even hunger no longer drove him out since
+there was no use taking a walk when no one would invite him to dinner.
+Whenever he didn’t show his face for several days, the neighbors would
+push open his door to see if his troubles were over. No, he was still
+alive, just barely. Even Death seemed to have neglected him. Whenever
+Gervaise had any bread she gave him the crusts. Even when she hated all
+men because of her husband, she still felt sincerely sorry for Pere
+Bru, the poor old man. They were letting him starve to death because he
+could no longer hold tools in his hand.
+
+The laundress also suffered a great deal from the close neighborhood of
+Bazouge, the undertaker’s helper. A simple partition, and a very thin
+one, separated the two rooms. He could not put his fingers down his
+throat without her hearing it. As soon as he came home of an evening
+she listened, in spite of herself, to everything he did. His black
+leather hat laid with a dull thud on the chest of drawers, like a
+shovelful of earth; the black cloak hung up and rustling against the
+walls like the wings of some night bird; all the black toggery flung
+into the middle of the room and filling it with the trappings of
+mourning. She heard him stamping about, felt anxious at the least
+movement, and was quite startled if he knocked against the furniture or
+rattled any of his crockery. This confounded drunkard was her
+preoccupation, filling her with a secret fear mingled with a desire to
+know. He, jolly, his belly full every day, his head all upside down,
+coughed, spat, sang “Mother Godichon,” made use of many dirty
+expressions and fought with the four walls before finding his bedstead.
+And she remained quite pale, wondering what he could be doing in there.
+She imagined the most atrocious things. She got into her head that he
+must have brought a corpse home, and was stowing it away under his
+bedstead. Well! the newspapers had related something of the kind—an
+undertaker’s helper who collected the coffins of little children at his
+home, so as to save himself trouble and to make only one journey to the
+cemetery.
+
+For certain, directly Bazouge arrived, a smell of death seemed to
+permeate the partition. One might have thought oneself lodging against
+the Pere Lachaise cemetery, in the midst of the kingdom of moles. He
+was frightful, the animal, continually laughing all by himself, as
+though his profession enlivened him. Even when he had finished his
+rumpus and had laid himself on his back, he snored in a manner so
+extraordinary that it caused the laundress to hold her breath. For
+hours she listened attentively, with an idea that funerals were passing
+through her neighbor’s room.
+
+The worst was that, in spite of her terrors, something incited Gervaise
+to put her ear to the wall, the better to find out what was taking
+place. Bazouge had the same effect on her as handsome men have on good
+women: they would like to touch them. Well! if fear had not kept her
+back, Gervaise would have liked to have handled death, to see what it
+was like. She became so peculiar at times, holding her breath,
+listening attentively, expecting to unravel the secret through one of
+Bazouge’s movements, that Coupeau would ask her with a chuckle if she
+had a fancy for that gravedigger next door. She got angry and talked of
+moving, the close proximity of this neighbor was so distasteful to her;
+and yet, in spite of herself, as soon as the old chap arrived, smelling
+like a cemetery, she became wrapped again in her reflections, with the
+excited and timorous air of a wife thinking of passing a knife through
+the marriage contract. Had he not twice offered to pack her up and
+carry her off with him to some place where the enjoyment of sleep is so
+great, that in a moment one forgets all one’s wretchedness? Perhaps it
+was really very pleasant. Little by little the temptation to taste it
+became stronger. She would have liked to have tried it for a fortnight
+or a month. Oh! to sleep a month, especially in winter, the month when
+the rent became due, when the troubles of life were killing her! But it
+was not possible—one must sleep forever, if one commences to sleep for
+an hour; and the thought of this froze her, her desire for death
+departed before the eternal and stern friendship which the earth
+demanded.
+
+However, one evening in January she knocked with both her fists against
+the partition. She had passed a frightful week, hustled by everyone,
+without a sou, and utterly discouraged. That evening she was not at all
+well, she shivered with fever, and seemed to see flames dancing about
+her. Then, instead of throwing herself out of the window, as she had at
+one moment thought of doing, she set to knocking and calling:
+
+“Old Bazouge! Old Bazouge!”
+
+The undertaker’s helper was taking off his shoes and singing, “There
+were three lovely girls.” He had probably had a good day, for he seemed
+even more maudlin than usual.
+
+“Old Bazouge! Old Bazouge!” repeated Gervaise, raising her voice.
+
+Did he not hear her then? She was ready to give herself at once; he
+might come and take her on his neck, and carry her off to the place
+where he carried his other women, the poor and the rich, whom he
+consoled. It pained her to hear his song, “There were three lovely
+girls,” because she discerned in it the disdain of a man with too many
+sweethearts.
+
+“What is it? what is it?” stuttered Bazouge; “who’s unwell? We’re
+coming, little woman!”
+
+But the sound of this husky voice awoke Gervaise as though from a
+nightmare. And a feeling of horror ascended from her knees to her
+shoulders at the thought of seeing herself lugged along in the old
+fellow’s arms, all stiff and her face as white as a china plate.
+
+“Well! is there no one there now?” resumed Bazouge in silence. “Wait a
+bit, we’re always ready to oblige the ladies.”
+
+“It’s nothing, nothing,” said the laundress at length in a choking
+voice. “I don’t require anything, thanks.”
+
+She remained anxious, listening to old Bazouge grumbling himself to
+sleep, afraid to stir for fear he would think he heard her knocking
+again.
+
+In her corner of misery, in the midst of her cares and the cares of
+others, Gervaise had, however, a beautiful example of courage in the
+home of her neighbors, the Bijards. Little Lalie, only eight years old
+and no larger than a sparrow, took care of the household as competently
+as a grown person. The job was not an easy one because she had two
+little tots, her brother Jules and her sister Henriette, aged three and
+five, to watch all day long while sweeping and cleaning.
+
+Ever since Bijard had killed his wife with a kick in the stomach, Lalie
+had become the little mother of them all. Without saying a word, and of
+her own accord, she filled the place of one who had gone, to the extent
+that her brute of a father, no doubt to complete the resemblance, now
+belabored the daughter as he had formerly belabored the mother.
+Whenever he came home drunk, he required a woman to massacre. He did
+not even notice that Lalie was quite little; he would not have beaten
+some old trollop harder. Little Lalie, so thin it made you cry, took it
+all without a word of complaint in her beautiful, patient eyes. Never
+would she revolt. She bent her neck to protect her face and stifled her
+sobs so as not to alarm the neighbors. When her father got tired of
+kicking her, she would rest a bit until she got her strength back and
+then resume her work. It was part of her job, being beaten daily.
+
+Gervaise entertained a great friendship for her little neighbor. She
+treated her as an equal, as a grown-up woman of experience. It must be
+said that Lalie had a pale and serious look, with the expression of an
+old girl. One might have thought her thirty on hearing her speak. She
+knew very well how to buy things, mend the clothes, attend to the home,
+and she spoke of the children as though she had already gone through
+two or three nurseries in her time. It made people smile to hear her
+talk thus at eight years old; and then a lump would rise in their
+throats, and they would hurry away so as not to burst out crying.
+Gervaise drew the child towards her as much as she could, gave her all
+she could spare of food and old clothing. One day as she tried one of
+Nana’s old dresses on her, she almost choked with anger on seeing her
+back covered with bruises, the skin off her elbow, which was still
+bleeding, and all her innocent flesh martyred and sticking to her
+bones. Well! Old Bazouge could get a box ready; she would not last long
+at that rate! But the child had begged the laundress not to say a word.
+She would not have her father bothered on her account. She took his
+part, affirming that he would not have been so wicked if it had not
+been for the drink. He was mad, he did not know what he did. Oh! she
+forgave him, because one ought to forgive madmen everything.
+
+From that time Gervaise watched and prepared to interfere directly she
+heard Bijard coming up the stairs. But on most of the occasions she
+only caught some whack for her trouble. When she entered their room in
+the day-time, she often found Lalie tied to the foot of the iron
+bedstead; it was an idea of the locksmith’s, before going out, to tie
+her legs and her body with some stout rope, without anyone being able
+to find out why—a mere whim of a brain diseased by drink, just for the
+sake, no doubt, of maintaining his tyranny over the child when he was
+no longer there. Lalie, as stiff as a stake, with pins and needles in
+her legs, remained whole days at the post. She once even passed a night
+there, Bijard having forgotten to come home. Whenever Gervaise, carried
+away by her indignation, talked of unfastening her, she implored her
+not to disturb the rope, because her father became furious if he did
+not find the knots tied the same way he had left them. Really, it
+wasn’t so bad, it gave her a rest. She smiled as she said this though
+her legs were swollen and bruised. What upset her the most was that she
+couldn’t do her work while tied to the bed. She could watch the
+children though, and even did some knitting, so as not to entirely
+waste the time.
+
+The locksmith had thought of another little game too. He heated sous in
+the frying pan, then placed them on a corner of the mantle-piece; and
+he called Lalie, and told her to fetch a couple of pounds of bread. The
+child took up the sous unsuspectingly, uttered a cry and threw them on
+the ground, shaking her burnt hand. Then he flew into a fury. Who had
+saddled him with such a piece of carrion? She lost the money now! And
+he threatened to beat her to a jelly if she did not pick the sous up at
+once. When the child hesitated she received the first warning, a clout
+of such force that it made her see thirty-six candles. Speechless and
+with two big tears in the corners of her eyes, she would pick up the
+sous and go off, tossing them in the palm of her hand to cool them.
+
+No, one could never imagine the ferocious ideas which may sprout from
+the depths of a drunkard’s brain. One afternoon, for instance, Lalie
+having made everything tidy was playing with the children. The window
+was open, there was a draught, and the wind blowing along the passage
+gently shook the door.
+
+“It’s Monsieur Hardy,” the child was saying. “Come in, Monsieur Hardy.
+Pray have the kindness to walk in.”
+
+And she curtsied before the door, she bowed to the wind. Henriette and
+Jules, behind her, also bowed, delighted with the game and splitting
+their sides with laughing, as though being tickled. She was quite rosy
+at seeing them so heartily amused and even found some pleasure in it on
+her own account, which generally only happened to her on the
+thirty-sixth day of each month.
+
+“Good day, Monsieur Hardy. How do you do, Monsieur Hardy?”
+
+But a rough hand pushed open the door, and Bijard entered. Then the
+scene changed. Henriette and Jules fell down flat against the wall;
+whilst Lalie, terrified, remained standing in the very middle of the
+curtsey. The locksmith held in his hand a big waggoner’s whip, quite
+new, with a long white wooden handle, and a leather thong, terminating
+with a bit of whip-cord. He placed the whip in the corner against the
+bed and did not give the usual kick to the child who was already
+preparing herself by presenting her back. A chuckle exposed his
+blackened teeth and he was very lively, very drunk, his red face
+lighted up by some idea that amused him immensely.
+
+“What’s that?” said he. “You’re playing the deuce, eh, you confounded
+young hussy! I could hear you dancing about from downstairs. Now then,
+come here! Nearer and full face. I don’t want to sniff you from behind.
+Am I touching you that you tremble like a mass of giblets? Take my
+shoes off.”
+
+Lalie turned quite pale again and, amazed at not receiving her usual
+drubbing, took his shoes off. He had seated himself on the edge of the
+bed. He lay down with his clothes on and remained with his eyes open,
+watching the child move about the room. She busied herself with one
+thing and another, gradually becoming bewildered beneath his glance,
+her limbs overcome by such a fright that she ended by breaking a cup.
+Then, without getting off the bed, he took hold of the whip and showed
+it to her.
+
+“See, little chickie, look at this. It’s a present for you. Yes, it’s
+another fifty sous you’ve cost me. With this plaything I shall no
+longer be obliged to run after you, and it’ll be no use you getting
+into the corners. Will you have a try? Ah! you broke a cup! Now then,
+gee up! Dance away, make your curtsies to Monsieur Hardy!”
+
+He did not even raise himself but lay sprawling on his back, his head
+buried in his pillow, making the big whip crack about the room with the
+noise of a postillion starting his horses. Then, lowering his arm he
+lashed Lalie in the middle of the body, encircling her with the whip
+and unwinding it again as though she were a top. She fell and tried to
+escape on her hands and knees; but lashing her again he jerked her to
+her feet.
+
+“Gee up, gee up!” yelled he. “It’s the donkey race! Eh, it’ll be fine
+of a cold morning in winter. I can lie snug without getting cold or
+hurting my chilblains and catch the calves from a distance. In that
+corner there, a hit, you hussy! And in that other corner, a hit again!
+And in that one, another hit. Ah! if you crawl under the bed I’ll whack
+you with the handle. Gee up, you jade! Gee up! Gee up!”
+
+A slight foam came to his lips, his yellow eyes were starting from
+their black orbits. Lalie, maddened, howling, jumped to the four
+corners of the room, curled herself up on the floor and clung to the
+walls; but the lash at the end of the big whip caught her everywhere,
+cracking against her ears with the noise of fireworks, streaking her
+flesh with burning weals. A regular dance of the animal being taught
+its tricks. This poor kitten waltzed. It was a sight! Her heels in the
+air like little girls playing at skipping, and crying “Father!” She was
+all out of breath, rebounding like an india-rubber ball, letting
+herself be beaten, unable to see or any longer to seek a refuge. And
+her wolf of a father triumphed, calling her a virago, asking her if she
+had had enough and whether she understood sufficiently that she was in
+future to give up all hope of escaping from him.
+
+But Gervaise suddenly entered the room, attracted by the child’s howls.
+On beholding such a scene she was seized with a furious indignation.
+
+“Ah! you brute of a man!” cried she. “Leave her alone, you brigand!
+I’ll put the police on to you.”
+
+Bijard growled like an animal being disturbed, and stuttered:
+
+“Mind your own business a bit, Limper. Perhaps you’d like me to put
+gloves on when I stir her up. It’s merely to warm her, as you can
+plainly see—simply to show her that I’ve a long arm.”
+
+And he gave a final lash with the whip which caught Lalie across the
+face. The upper lip was cut, the blood flowed. Gervaise had seized a
+chair, and was about to fall on to the locksmith; but the child held
+her hands towards her imploringly, saying that it was nothing and that
+it was all over. She wiped away the blood with the corner of her apron
+and quieted the babies, who were sobbing bitterly, as though they had
+received all the blows.
+
+Whenever Gervaise thought of Lalie, she felt she had no right to
+complain for herself. She wished she had as much patient courage as the
+little girl who was only eight years old and had to endure more than
+the rest of the women on their staircase put together. She had seen
+Lalie living on stale bread for months and growing thinner and weaker.
+Whenever she smuggled some remnants of meat to Lalie, it almost broke
+her heart to see the child weeping silently and nibbling it down only
+by little bits because her throat was so shrunken. Gervaise looked on
+Lalie as a model of suffering and forgiveness and tried to learn from
+her how to suffer in silence.
+
+In the Coupeau household the vitriol of l’Assommoir was also commencing
+its ravages. Gervaise could see the day coming when her husband would
+get a whip like Bijard’s to make her dance.
+
+Yes, Coupeau was spinning an evil thread. The time was past when a
+drink would make him feel good. His unhealthy soft fat of earlier years
+had melted away and he was beginning to wither and turn a leaden grey.
+He seemed to have a greenish tint like a corpse putrefying in a pond.
+He no longer had a taste for food, not even the most beautifully
+prepared stew. His stomach would turn and his decayed teeth refuse to
+touch it. A pint a day was his daily ration, the only nourishment he
+could digest. When he awoke in the mornings he sat coughing and
+spitting up bile for at least a quarter of an hour. It never failed,
+you might as well have the basin ready. He was never steady on his pins
+till after his first glass of consolation, a real remedy, the fire of
+which cauterized his bowels; but during the day his strength returned.
+At first he would feel a tickling sensation, a sort of pins-and-needles
+in his hands and feet; and he would joke, relating that someone was
+having a lark with him, that he was sure his wife put horse-hair
+between the sheets. Then his legs would become heavy, the tickling
+sensation would end by turning into the most abominable cramps, which
+gripped his flesh as though in a vise. That though did not amuse him so
+much. He no longer laughed; he stopped suddenly on the pavement in a
+bewildered way with a ringing in his ears and his eyes blinded with
+sparks. Everything appeared to him to be yellow; the houses danced and
+he reeled about for three seconds with the fear of suddenly finding
+himself sprawling on the ground. At other times, while the sun was
+shining full on his back, he would shiver as though iced water had been
+poured down his shoulders. What bothered him the most was a slight
+trembling of both his hands; the right hand especially must have been
+guilty of some crime, it suffered from so many nightmares. _Mon Dieu!_
+was he then no longer a man? He was becoming an old woman! He furiously
+strained his muscles, he seized hold of his glass and bet that he would
+hold it perfectly steady as with a hand of marble; but in spite of his
+efforts the glass danced about, jumped to the right, jumped to the left
+with a hurried and regular trembling movement. Then in a fury he
+emptied it into his gullet, yelling that he would require dozens like
+it, and afterwards he undertook to carry a cask without so much as
+moving a finger. Gervaise, on the other hand, told him to give up drink
+if he wished to cease trembling, and he laughed at her, emptying quarts
+until he experienced the sensation again, flying into a rage and
+accusing the passing omnibuses of shaking up his liquor.
+
+In the month of March Coupeau returned home one evening soaked through.
+He had come with My-Boots from Montrouge, where they had stuffed
+themselves full of eel soup, and he had received the full force of the
+shower all the way from the Barriere des Fourneaux to the Barriere
+Poissonniere, a good distance. During the night he was seized with a
+confounded fit of coughing. He was very flushed, suffering from a
+violent fever and panting like a broken bellows. When the Boches’
+doctor saw him in the morning and listened against his back he shook
+his head, and drew Gervaise aside to advise her to have her husband
+taken to the hospital. Coupeau was suffering from pneumonia.
+
+Gervaise did not worry herself, you may be sure. At one time she would
+have been chopped into pieces before trusting her old man to the
+saw-bones. After the accident in the Rue de la Nation she had spent
+their savings in nursing him. But those beautiful sentiments don’t last
+when men take to wallowing in the mire. No, no; she did not intend to
+make a fuss like that again. They might take him and never bring him
+back; she would thank them heartily. Yet, when the litter arrived and
+Coupeau was put into it like an article of furniture, she became all
+pale and bit her lips; and if she grumbled and still said it was a good
+job, her heart was no longer in her words. Had she but ten francs in
+her drawer she would not have let him go.
+
+She accompanied him to the Lariboisiere Hospital, saw the nurses put
+him to bed at the end of a long hall, where the patients in a row,
+looking like corpses, raised themselves up and followed with their eyes
+the comrade who had just been brought in. It was a veritable death
+chamber. There was a suffocating, feverish odor and a chorus of
+coughing. The long hall gave the impression of a small cemetery with
+its double row of white beds looking like an aisle of marble tombs.
+When Coupeau remained motionless on his pillow, Gervaise left, having
+nothing to say, nor anything in her pocket that could comfort him.
+
+Outside, she turned to look up at the monumental structure of the
+hospital and recalled the days when Coupeau was working there, putting
+on the zinc roof, perched up high and singing in the sun. He wasn’t
+drinking in those days. She used to watch for him from her window in
+the Hotel Boncoeur and they would both wave their handkerchiefs in
+greeting. Now, instead of being on the roof like a cheerful sparrow, he
+was down below. He had built his own place in the hospital where he had
+come to die. _Mon Dieu!_ It all seemed so far way now, that time of
+young love.
+
+On the day after the morrow, when Gervaise called to obtain news of
+him, she found the bed empty. A Sister of Charity told her that they
+had been obliged to remove her husband to the Asylum of Sainte-Anne,
+because the day before he had suddenly gone wild. Oh! a total
+leave-taking of his senses; attempts to crack his skull against the
+wall; howls which prevented the other patients from sleeping. It all
+came from drink, it seemed. Gervaise went home very upset. Well, her
+husband had gone crazy. What would it be like if he came home? Nana
+insisted that they should leave him in the hospital because he might
+end by killing both of them.
+
+Gervaise was not able to go to Sainte-Anne until Sunday. It was a
+tremendous journey. Fortunately, the omnibus from the Boulevard
+Rochechouart to La Glaciere passed close to the asylum. She went down
+the Rue de la Sante, buying two oranges on her way, so as not to arrive
+empty-handed. It was another monumental building, with grey courtyards,
+interminable corridors and a smell of rank medicaments, which did not
+exactly inspire liveliness. But when they had admitted her into a cell
+she was quite surprised to see Coupeau almost jolly. He was just then
+seated on the throne, a spotlessly clean wooden case, and they both
+laughed at her finding him in this position. Well, one knows what an
+invalid is. He squatted there like a pope with his cheek of earlier
+days. Oh! he was better, as he could do this.
+
+“And the pneumonia?” inquired the laundress.
+
+“Done for!” replied he. “They cured it in no time. I still cough a
+little, but that’s all that is left of it.”
+
+Then at the moment of leaving the throne to get back into his bed, he
+joked once more. “It’s lucky you have a strong nose and are not
+bothered.”
+
+They laughed louder than ever. At heart they felt joyful. It was by way
+of showing their contentment without a host of phrases that they thus
+joked together. One must have had to do with patients to know the
+pleasure one feels at seeing all their functions at work again.
+
+When he was back in bed she gave him the two oranges and this filled
+him with emotion. He was becoming quite nice again ever since he had
+had nothing but tisane to drink. She ended by venturing to speak to him
+about his violent attack, surprised at hearing him reason like in the
+good old times.
+
+“Ah, yes,” said he, joking at his own expense; “I talked a precious lot
+of nonsense! Just fancy, I saw rats and ran about on all fours to put a
+grain of salt under their tails. And you, you called to me, men were
+trying to kill you. In short, all sorts of stupid things, ghosts in
+broad daylight. Oh! I remember it well, my noodle’s still solid. Now
+it’s over, I dream a bit when I’m asleep. I have nightmares, but
+everyone has nightmares.”
+
+Gervaise remained with him until the evening. When the house surgeon
+came, at the six o’clock inspection, he made him spread his hands; they
+hardly trembled at all, scarcely a quiver at the tips of the fingers.
+However, as night approached, Coupeau was little by little seized with
+uneasiness. He twice sat up in bed looking on the ground and in the
+dark corners of the room. Suddenly he thrust out an arm and appeared to
+crush some vermin against the wall.
+
+“What is it?” asked Gervaise, frightened.
+
+“The rats! The rats!” murmured he.
+
+Then, after a pause, gliding into sleep, he tossed about, uttering
+disconnected phrases.
+
+“_Mon Dieu!_ they’re tearing my skin!—Oh! the filthy beasts!—Keep
+steady! Hold your skirts right round you! beware of the dirty bloke
+behind you!—_Mon Dieu!_ she’s down and the scoundrels
+laugh!—Scoundrels! Blackguards! Brigands!”
+
+He dealt blows into space, caught hold of his blanket and rolled it
+into a bundle against his chest, as though to protect the latter from
+the violence of the bearded men whom he beheld. Then, an attendant
+having hastened to the spot, Gervaise withdrew, quite frozen by the
+scene.
+
+But when she returned a few days later, she found Coupeau completely
+cured. Even the nightmares had left him; he could sleep his ten hours
+right off as peacefully as a child and without stirring a limb. So his
+wife was allowed to take him away. The house surgeon gave him the usual
+good advice on leaving and advised him to follow it. If he recommenced
+drinking, he would again collapse and would end by dying. Yes, it
+solely depended upon himself. He had seen how jolly and healthy one
+could become when one did not get drunk. Well, he must continue at home
+the sensible life he had led at Sainte-Anne, fancy himself under lock
+and key and that dram-shops no longer existed.
+
+“The gentleman’s right,” said Gervaise in the omnibus which was taking
+them back to the Rue de la Goutte-d’Or.
+
+“Of course he’s right,” replied Coupeau.
+
+Then, after thinking a minute, he resumed:
+
+“Oh! you know, a little glass now and again can’t kill a man; it helps
+the digestion.”
+
+And that very evening he swallowed a glass of bad spirit, just to keep
+his stomach in order. For eight days he was pretty reasonable. He was a
+great coward at heart; he had no desire to end his days in the Bicetre
+mad-house. But his passion got the better of him; the first little
+glass led him, in spite of himself, to a second, to a third and to a
+fourth, and at the end of a fortnight, he had got back to his old
+ration, a pint of vitriol a day. Gervaise, exasperated, could have
+beaten him. To think that she had been stupid enough to dream once more
+of leading a worthy life, just because she had seen him at the asylum
+in full possession of his good sense! Another joyful hour had flown,
+the last one no doubt! Oh! now, as nothing could reclaim him, not even
+the fear of his near death, she swore she would no longer put herself
+out; the home might be all at sixes and sevens, she did not care any
+longer; and she talked also of leaving him.
+
+Then hell upon earth recommenced, a life sinking deeper into the mire,
+without a glimmer of hope for something better to follow. Nana,
+whenever her father clouted her, furiously asked why the brute was not
+at the hospital. She was awaiting the time when she would be earning
+money, she would say, to treat him to brandy and make him croak
+quicker. Gervaise, on her side, flew into a passion one day that
+Coupeau was regretting their marriage. Ah! she had brought him her
+saucy children; ah! she had got herself picked up from the pavement,
+wheedling him with rosy dreams! _Mon Dieu!_ he had a rare cheek! So
+many words, so many lies. She hadn’t wished to have anything to do with
+him, that was the truth. He had dragged himself at her feet to make her
+give way, whilst she was advising him to think well what he was about.
+And if it was all to come over again, he would hear how she would just
+say “no!” She would sooner have an arm cut off. Yes, she’d had a lover
+before him; but a woman who has had a lover, and who is a worker, is
+worth more than a sluggard of a man who sullies his honor and that of
+his family in all the dram-shops. That day, for the first time, the
+Coupeaus went in for a general brawl, and they whacked each other so
+hard that an old umbrella and the broom were broken.
+
+Gervaise kept her word. She sank lower and lower; she missed going to
+her work oftener, spent whole days in gossiping, and became as soft as
+a rag whenever she had a task to perform. If a thing fell from her
+hands, it might remain on the floor; it was certainly not she who would
+have stooped to pick it up. She took her ease about everything, and
+never handled a broom except when the accumulation of filth almost
+brought her to the ground. The Lorilleuxs now made a point of holding
+something to their noses whenever they passed her room; the stench was
+poisonous, said they. Those hypocrites slyly lived at the end of the
+passage, out of the way of all these miseries which filled the corner
+of the house with whimpering, locking themselves in so as not to have
+to lend twenty sou pieces. Oh! kind-hearted folks, neighbors awfully
+obliging! Yes, you may be sure! One had only to knock and ask for a
+light or a pinch of salt or a jug of water, one was certain of getting
+the door banged in one’s face. With all that they had vipers’ tongues.
+They protested everywhere that they never occupied themselves with
+other people. This was true whenever it was a question of assisting a
+neighbor; but they did so from morning to night, directly they had a
+chance of pulling any one to pieces. With the door bolted and a rug
+hung up to cover the chinks and the key-hole, they would treat
+themselves to a spiteful gossip without leaving their gold wire for a
+moment.
+
+The fall of Clump-clump in particular kept them purring like pet cats.
+Completely ruined! Not a sou remaining. They smiled gleefully at the
+small piece of bread she would bring back when she went shopping and
+kept count of the days when she had nothing at all to eat. And the
+clothes she wore now. Disgusting rags! That’s what happened when one
+tried to live high.
+
+Gervaise, who had an idea of the way in which they spoke of her, would
+take her shoes off, and place her ear against their door; but the rug
+over the door prevented her from hearing much. She was heartily sick of
+them; she continued to speak to them, to avoid remarks, though
+expecting nothing but unpleasantness from such nasty persons, but no
+longer having strength even to give them as much as they gave her,
+passed the insults off as a lot of nonsense. And besides she only
+wanted her own pleasure, to sit in a heap twirling her thumbs, and only
+moving when it was a question of amusing herself, nothing more.
+
+One Saturday Coupeau had promised to take her to the circus. It was
+well worth while disturbing oneself to see ladies galloping along on
+horses and jumping through paper hoops. Coupeau had just finished a
+fortnight’s work, he could well spare a couple of francs; and they had
+also arranged to dine out, just the two of them, Nana having to work
+very late that evening at her employer’s because of some pressing
+order. But at seven o’clock there was no Coupeau; at eight o’clock it
+was still the same. Gervaise was furious. Her drunkard was certainly
+squandering his earnings with his comrades at the dram-shops of the
+neighborhood. She had washed a cap and had been slaving since the
+morning over the holes of an old dress, wishing to look decent. At
+last, towards nine o’clock, her stomach empty, her face purple with
+rage, she decided to go down and look for Coupeau.
+
+“Is it your husband you want?” called Madame Boche, on catching sight
+of Gervaise looking very glum. “He’s at Pere Colombe’s. Boche has just
+been having some cherry brandy with him.”
+
+Gervaise uttered her thanks and stalked stiffly along the pavement with
+the determination of flying at Coupeau’s eyes. A fine rain was falling
+which made the walk more unpleasant still. But when she reached
+l’Assommoir, the fear of receiving the drubbing herself if she badgered
+her old man suddenly calmed her and made her prudent. The shop was
+ablaze with the lighted gas, the flames of which were as brilliant as
+suns, and the bottles and jars illuminated the walls with their colored
+glass. She stood there an instant stretching her neck, her eyes close
+to the window, looking between two bottle placed there for show,
+watching Coupeau who was right at the back; he was sitting with some
+comrades at a little zinc table, all looking vague and blue in the
+tobacco smoke; and, as one could not hear them yelling, it created a
+funny effect to see them gesticulating with their chins thrust forward
+and their eyes starting out of their heads. Good heavens! Was it really
+possible that men could leave their wives and their homes to shut
+themselves up thus in a hole where they were choking?
+
+The rain trickled down her neck; she drew herself up and went off to
+the exterior Boulevard, wrapped in thought and not daring to enter. Ah!
+well Coupeau would have welcomed her in a pleasant way, he who objected
+to be spied upon! Besides, it really scarcely seemed to her the proper
+place for a respectable woman. Twice she went back and stood before the
+shop window, her eyes again riveted to the glass, annoyed at still
+beholding those confounded drunkards out of the rain and yelling and
+drinking. The light of l’Assommoir was reflected in the puddles on the
+pavement, which simmered with little bubbles caused by the downpour. At
+length she thought she was too foolish, and pushing open the door, she
+walked straight up to the table where Coupeau was sitting. After all it
+was her husband she came for, was it not? And she was authorized in
+doing so, because he had promised to take her to the circus that
+evening. So much the worse! She had no desire to melt like a cake of
+soap out on the pavement.
+
+“Hullo! It’s you, old woman!” exclaimed the zinc-worker, half choking
+with a chuckle. “Ah! that’s a good joke. Isn’t it a good joke now?”
+
+All the company laughed. Gervaise remained standing, feeling rather
+bewildered. Coupeau appeared to her to be in a pleasant humor, so she
+ventured to say:
+
+“You remember, we’ve somewhere to go. We must hurry. We shall still be
+in time to see something.”
+
+“I can’t get up, I’m glued, oh! without joking,” resumed Coupeau, who
+continued laughing. “Try, just to satisfy yourself; pull my arm with
+all your strength; try it! harder than that, tug away, up with it! You
+see it’s that louse Pere Colombe who’s screwed me to his seat.”
+
+Gervaise had humored him at this game, and when she let go of his arm,
+the comrades thought the joke so good that they tumbled up against one
+another, braying and rubbing their shoulders like donkeys being
+groomed. The zinc-worker’s mouth was so wide with laughter that you
+could see right down his throat.
+
+“You great noodle!” said he at length, “you can surely sit down a
+minute. You’re better here than splashing about outside. Well, yes; I
+didn’t come home as I promised, I had business to attend to. Though you
+may pull a long face, it won’t alter matters. Make room, you others.”
+
+“If madame would accept my knees she would find them softer than the
+seat,” gallantly said My-Boots.
+
+Gervaise, not wishing to attract attention, took a chair and sat down
+at a short distance from the table. She looked at what the men were
+drinking, some rotgut brandy which shone like gold in the glasses; a
+little of it had dropped upon the table and Salted-Mouth, otherwise
+Drink-without-Thirst, dipped his finger in it whilst conversing and
+wrote a woman’s name—“Eulalie”—in big letters. She noticed that
+Bibi-the-Smoker looked shockingly jaded and thinner than a
+hundred-weight of nails. My-Boot’s nose was in full bloom, a regular
+purple Burgundy dahlia. They were all quite dirty, their beards stiff,
+their smocks ragged and stained, their hands grimy with dirt. Yet they
+were still quite polite.
+
+Gervaise noticed a couple of men at the bar. They were so drunk that
+they were spilling the drink down their chins when they thought they
+were wetting their whistles. Fat Pere Colombe was calmly serving round
+after round.
+
+The atmosphere was very warm, the smoke from the pipes ascended in the
+blinding glare of the gas, amidst which it rolled about like dust,
+drowning the customers in a gradually thickening mist; and from this
+cloud there issued a deafening and confused uproar, cracked voices,
+clinking of glasses, oaths and blows sounding like detonations. So
+Gervaise pulled a very wry face, for such a sight is not funny for a
+woman, especially when she is not used to it; she was stifling, with a
+smarting sensation in her eyes, and her head already feeling heavy from
+the alcoholic fumes exhaled by the whole place. Then she suddenly
+experienced the sensation of something more unpleasant still behind her
+back. She turned round and beheld the still, the machine which
+manufactured drunkards, working away beneath the glass roof of the
+narrow courtyard with the profound trepidation of its hellish cookery.
+Of an evening, the copper parts looked more mournful than ever, lit up
+only on their rounded surface with one big red glint; and the shadow of
+the apparatus on the wall at the back formed most abominable figures,
+bodies with tails, monsters opening their jaws as though to swallow
+everyone up.
+
+“Listen, mother Talk-too-much, don’t make any of your grimaces!” cried
+Coupeau. “To blazes, you know, with all wet blankets! What’ll you
+drink?”
+
+“Nothing, of course,” replied the laundress. “I haven’t dined yet.”
+
+“Well! that’s all the more reason for having a glass; a drop of
+something sustains one.”
+
+But, as she still retained her glum expression, My-Boots again did the
+gallant.
+
+“Madame probably likes sweet things,” murmured he.
+
+“I like men who don’t get drunk,” retorted she, getting angry. “Yes, I
+like a fellow who brings home his earnings, and who keeps his word when
+he makes a promise.”
+
+“Ah! so that’s what upsets you?” said the zinc-worker, without ceasing
+to chuckle. “Yes, you want your share. Then, big goose, why do you
+refuse a drink? Take it, it’s so much to the good.”
+
+She looked at him fixedly, in a grave manner, a wrinkle marking her
+forehead with a black line. And she slowly replied:
+
+“Why, you’re right, it’s a good idea. That way, we can drink up the
+coin together.”
+
+Bibi-the-Smoker rose from his seat to fetch her a glass of anisette.
+She drew her chair up to the table. Whilst she was sipping her
+anisette, a recollection suddenly flashed across her mind, she
+remembered the plum she had taken with Coupeau, near the door, in the
+old days, when he was courting her. At that time, she used to leave the
+juice of fruits preserved in brandy. And now, here was she going back
+to liqueurs. Oh! she knew herself well, she had not two thimblefuls of
+will. One would only have had to have given her a walloping across the
+back to have made her regularly wallow in drink. The anisette even
+seemed to be very good, perhaps rather too sweet and slightly
+sickening. She went on sipping as she listened to Salted-Mouth,
+otherwise Drink-without-Thirst, tell of his affair with fat Eulalie, a
+fish peddler and very shrewd at locating him. Even if his comrades
+tried to hide him, she could usually sniff him out when he was late.
+Just the night before she had slapped his face with a flounder to teach
+him not to neglect going to work. Bibi-the-Smoker and My-Boots nearly
+split their sides laughing. They slapped Gervaise on the shoulder and
+she began to laugh also, finding it amusing in spite of herself. They
+then advised her to follow Eulalie’s example and bring an iron with her
+so as to press Coupeau’s ears on the counters of the wineshops.
+
+“Ah, well, no thanks,” cried Coupeau as he turned upside down the glass
+his wife had emptied. “You pump it out pretty well. Just look, you
+fellows, she doesn’t take long over it.”
+
+“Will madame take another?” asked Salted-Mouth, otherwise
+Drink-without-Thirst.
+
+No, she had had enough. Yet she hesitated. The anisette had slightly
+bothered her stomach. She should have taken straight brandy to settle
+her digestion.
+
+She cast side glances at the drunkard manufacturing machine behind her.
+That confounded pot, as round as the stomach of a tinker’s fat wife,
+with its nose that was so long and twisted, sent a shiver down her
+back, a fear mingled with a desire. Yes, one might have thought it the
+metal pluck of some big wicked woman, of some witch who was discharging
+drop by drop the fire of her entrails. A fine source of poison, an
+operation which should have been hidden away in a cellar, it was so
+brazen and abominable! But all the same she would have liked to have
+poked her nose inside it, to have sniffed the odor, have tasted the
+filth, though the skin might have peeled off her burnt tongue like the
+rind off an orange.
+
+“What’s that you’re drinking?” asked she slyly of the men, her eyes
+lighted up by the beautiful golden color of their glasses.
+
+“That, old woman,” answered Coupeau, “is Pere Colombe’s camphor. Don’t
+be silly now and we’ll give you a taste.”
+
+And when they had brought her a glass of the vitriol, the rotgut, and
+her jaws had contracted at the first mouthful, the zinc-worker resumed,
+slapping his thighs:
+
+“Ha! It tickles your gullet! Drink it off at one go. Each glassful
+cheats the doctor of six francs.”
+
+At the second glass Gervaise no longer felt the hunger which had been
+tormenting her. Now she had made it up with Coupeau, she no longer felt
+angry with him for not having kept his word. They would go to the
+circus some other day; it was not so funny to see jugglers galloping
+about on horses. There was no rain inside Pere Colombe’s and if the
+money went in brandy, one at least had it in one’s body; one drank it
+bright and shining like beautiful liquid gold. Ah! she was ready to
+send the whole world to blazes! Life was not so pleasant after all,
+besides it seemed some consolation to her to have her share in
+squandering the cash. As she was comfortable, why should she not
+remain? One might have a discharge of artillery; she did not care to
+budge once she had settled in a heap. She nursed herself in a pleasant
+warmth, her bodice sticking to her back, overcome by a feeling of
+comfort which benumbed her limbs. She laughed all to herself, her
+elbows on the table, a vacant look in her eyes, highly amused by two
+customers, a fat heavy fellow and a tiny shrimp, seated at a
+neighboring table, and kissing each other lovingly. Yes, she laughed at
+the things to see in l’Assommoir, at Pere Colombe’s full moon face, a
+regular bladder of lard, at the customers smoking their short clay
+pipes, yelling and spitting, and at the big flames of gas which lighted
+up the looking-glasses and the bottles of liqueurs. The smell no longer
+bothered her, on the contrary it tickled her nose, and she thought it
+very pleasant. Her eyes slightly closed, whilst she breathed very
+slowly, without the least feeling of suffocation, tasting the enjoyment
+of the gentle slumber which was overcoming her. Then, after her third
+glass, she let her chin fall on her hands; she now only saw Coupeau and
+his comrades, and she remained nose to nose with them, quite close, her
+cheeks warmed by their breath, looking at their dirty beards as though
+she had been counting the hairs. My-Boots drooled, his pipe between his
+teeth, with the dumb and grave air of a dozing ox. Bibi-the-Smoker was
+telling a story—the manner in which he emptied a bottle at a draught,
+giving it such a kiss that one instantly saw its bottom. Meanwhile
+Salted-Mouth, otherwise Drink-without-Thirst, had gone and fetched the
+wheel of fortune from the counter, and was playing with Coupeau for
+drinks.
+
+“Two hundred! You’re lucky; you get high numbers every time!”
+
+The needle of the wheel grated, and the figure of Fortune, a big red
+woman placed under glass, turned round and round until it looked like a
+mere spot in the centre, similar to a wine stain.
+
+“Three hundred and fifty! You must have been inside it, you confounded
+lascar! Ah! I shan’t play any more!”
+
+Gervaise amused herself with the wheel of fortune. She was feeling
+awfully thirsty, and calling My-Boots “my child.” Behind her the
+machine for manufacturing drunkards continued working, with its murmur
+of an underground stream; and she despaired of ever stopping it, of
+exhausting it, filled with a sullen anger against it, feeling a longing
+to spring upon the big still as upon some animal, to kick it with her
+heels and stave in its belly. Then everything began to seem all mixed
+up. The machine seemed to be moving itself and she thought she was
+being grabbed by its copper claws, and that the underground stream was
+now flowing over her body.
+
+Then the room danced round, the gas-jets seemed to shoot like stars.
+Gervaise was drunk. She heard a furious wrangle between Salted-Mouth,
+otherwise Drink-without-Thirst, and that rascal Pere Colombe. There was
+a thief of a landlord who wanted one to pay for what one had not had!
+Yet one was not at a gangster’s hang-out. Suddenly there was a
+scuffling, yells were heard and tables were upset. It was Pere Colombe
+who was turning the party out without the least hesitation, and in the
+twinkling of an eye. On the other side of the door they blackguarded
+him and called him a scoundrel. It still rained and blew icy cold.
+Gervaise lost Coupeau, found him and then lost him again. She wished to
+go home; she felt the shops to find her way. This sudden darkness
+surprised her immensely. At the corner of the Rue des Poissonniers, she
+sat down in the gutter thinking she was at the wash-house. The water
+which flowed along caused her head to swim, and made her very ill. At
+length she arrived, she passed stiffly before the concierge’s room
+where she perfectly recognized the Lorilleuxs and the Poissons seated
+at the table having dinner, and who made grimaces of disgust on
+beholding her in that sorry state.
+
+She never remembered how she had got up all those flights of stairs.
+Just as she was turning into the passage at the top, little Lalie, who
+heard her footsteps, hastened to meet her, opening her arms
+caressingly, and saying, with a smile:
+
+“Madame Gervaise, papa has not returned. Just come and see my little
+children sleeping. Oh! they look so pretty!”
+
+But on beholding the laundress’ besotted face, she tremblingly drew
+back. She was acquainted with that brandy-laden breath, those pale
+eyes, that convulsed mouth. Then Gervaise stumbled past without
+uttering a word, whilst the child, standing on the threshold of her
+room, followed her with her dark eyes, grave and speechless.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XI
+
+
+Nana was growing up and becoming wayward. At fifteen years old she had
+expanded like a calf, white-skinned and very fat; so plump, indeed, you
+might have called her a pincushion. Yes, such she was—fifteen years
+old, full of figure and no stays. A saucy magpie face, dipped in milk,
+a skin as soft as a peach skin, a funny nose, pink lips and eyes
+sparkling like tapers, which men would have liked to light their pipes
+at. Her pile of fair hair, the color of fresh oats, seemed to have
+scattered gold dust over her temples, freckle-like as it were, giving
+her brow a sunny crown. Ah! a pretty doll, as the Lorilleuxs say, a
+dirty nose that needed wiping, with fat shoulders, which were as fully
+rounded and as powerful as those of a full-grown woman. Nana no longer
+needed to stuff wads of paper into her bodice, her breasts were grown.
+She wished they were larger though, and dreamed of having breasts like
+a wet-nurse.
+
+What made her particularly tempting was a nasty habit she had of
+protruding the tip of her tongue between her white teeth. No doubt on
+seeing herself in the looking-glasses she had thought she was pretty
+like this; and so, all day long, she poked her tongue out of her mouth,
+in view of improving her appearance.
+
+“Hide your lying tongue!” cried her mother.
+
+Coupeau would often get involved, pounding his fist, swearing and
+shouting:
+
+“Make haste and draw that red rag inside again!”
+
+Nana showed herself very coquettish. She did not always wash her feet,
+but she bought such tight boots that she suffered martyrdom in St.
+Crispin’s prison; and if folks questioned her when she turned purple
+with pain, she answered that she had the stomach ache, so as to avoid
+confessing her coquetry. When bread was lacking at home it was
+difficult for her to trick herself out. But she accomplished miracles,
+brought ribbons back from the workshop and concocted toilettes—dirty
+dresses set off with bows and puffs. The summer was the season of her
+greatest triumphs. With a cambric dress which had cost her six francs
+she filled the whole neighborhood of the Goutte-d’Or with her fair
+beauty. Yes, she was known from the outer Boulevards to the
+Fortifications, and from the Chaussee de Clignancourt to the Grand Rue
+of La Chapelle. Folks called her “chickie,” for she was really as
+tender and as fresh-looking as a chicken.
+
+There was one dress which suited her perfectly, a white one with pink
+dots. It was very simple and without a frill. The skirt was rather
+short and revealed her ankles. The sleeves were deeply slashed and
+loose, showing her arms to the elbow. She pinned the neck back into a
+wide V as soon as she reached a dark corner of the staircase to avoid
+getting her ears boxed by her father for exposing the snowy whiteness
+of her throat and the golden shadow between her breasts. She also tied
+a pink ribbon round her blond hair.
+
+Sundays she spent the entire day out with the crowds and loved it when
+the men eyed her hungrily as they passed. She waited all week long for
+these glances. She would get up early to dress herself and spend hours
+before the fragment of mirror that was hung over the bureau. Her mother
+would scold her because the entire building could see her through the
+window in her chemise as she mended her dress.
+
+Ah! she looked cute like that said father Coupeau, sneering and jeering
+at her, a real Magdalene in despair! She might have turned “savage
+woman” at a fair, and have shown herself for a penny. Hide your meat,
+he used to say, and let me eat my bread! In fact, she was adorable,
+white and dainty under her overhanging golden fleece, losing temper to
+the point that her skin turned pink, not daring to answer her father,
+but cutting her thread with her teeth with a hasty, furious jerk, which
+shook her plump but youthful form.
+
+Then immediately after breakfast she tripped down the stairs into the
+courtyard. The entire tenement seemed to be resting sleepily in the
+peacefulness of a Sunday afternoon. The workshops on the ground floor
+were closed. Gaping windows revealed tables in some apartments that
+were already set for dinner, awaiting families out working up an
+appetite by strolling along the fortifications.
+
+Then, in the midst of the empty, echoing courtyard, Nana, Pauline and
+other big girls engaged in games of battledore and shuttlecock. They
+had grown up together and were now becoming queens of their building.
+Whenever a man crossed the court, flutelike laugher would arise, and
+then starched skirts would rustle like the passing of a gust of wind.
+
+The games were only an excuse for them to make their escape. Suddenly
+stillness fell upon the tenement. The girls had glided out into the
+street and made for the outer Boulevards. Then, linked arm-in-arm
+across the full breadth of the pavement, they went off, the whole six
+of them, clad in light colors, with ribbons tied around their bare
+heads. With bright eyes darting stealthy glances through their
+partially closed eyelids, they took note of everything, and constantly
+threw back their necks to laugh, displaying the fleshy part of their
+chins. They would swing their hips, or group together tightly, or
+flaunt along with awkward grace, all for the purpose of calling
+attention to the fact that their forms were filling out.
+
+Nana was in the centre with her pink dress all aglow in the sunlight.
+She gave her arm to Pauline, whose costume, yellow flowers on a white
+ground, glared in similar fashion, dotted as it were with little
+flames. As they were the tallest of the band, the most woman-like and
+most unblushing, they led the troop and drew themselves up with breasts
+well forward whenever they detected glances or heard complimentary
+remarks. The others extended right and left, puffing themselves out in
+order to attract attention. Nana and Pauline resorted to the
+complicated devices of experienced coquettes. If they ran till they
+were out of breath, it was in view of showing their white stockings and
+making the ribbons of their chignons wave in the breeze. When they
+stopped, pretending complete breathlessness, you would certainly spot
+someone they knew quite near, one of the young fellows of the
+neighborhood. This would make them dawdle along languidly, whispering
+and laughing among themselves, but keeping a sharp watch through their
+downcast eyelids.
+
+They went on these strolls of a Sunday mainly for the sake of these
+chance meetings. Tall lads, wearing their Sunday best, would stop them,
+joking and trying to catch them round their waists. Pauline was forever
+running into one of Madame Gaudron’s sons, a seventeen-year-old
+carpenter, who would treat her to fried potatoes. Nana could spot
+Victor Fauconnier, the laundress’s son and they would exchange kisses
+in dark corners. It never went farther than that, but they told each
+other some tall tales.
+
+Then when the sun set, the great delight of these young hussies was to
+stop and look at the mountebanks. Conjurors and strong men turned up
+and spread threadbare carpets on the soil of the avenue. Loungers
+collected and a circle formed whilst the mountebank in the centre tried
+his muscles under his faded tights. Nana and Pauline would stand for
+hours in the thickest part of the crowd. Their pretty, fresh frocks
+would get crushed between great-coats and dirty work smocks. In this
+atmosphere of wine and sweat they would laugh gaily, finding amusement
+in everything, blooming naturally like roses growing out of a dunghill.
+The only thing that vexed them was to meet their fathers, especially
+when the latter had been drinking. So they watched and warned one
+another.
+
+“Look, Nana,” Pauline would suddenly cry out, “here comes father
+Coupeau!”
+
+“Well, he’s drunk too. Oh, dear,” said Nana, greatly bothered. “I’m
+going to beat it, you know. I don’t want him to give me a wallop.
+Hullo! How he stumbles! Good Lord, if he could only break his neck!”
+
+At other times, when Coupeau came straight up to her without giving her
+time to run off, she crouched down, made herself small and muttered:
+“Just you hide me, you others. He’s looking for me, and he promised
+he’d knock my head off if he caught me hanging about.”
+
+Then when the drunkard had passed them she drew herself up again, and
+all the others followed her with bursts of laughter. He’ll find her—he
+will—he won’t! It was a true game of hide and seek. One day, however,
+Boche had come after Pauline and caught her by both ears, and Coupeau
+had driven Nana home with kicks.
+
+Nana was now a flower-maker and earned forty sous a day at Titreville’s
+place in the Rue du Caire, where she had served as apprentice. The
+Coupeaus had kept her there so that she might remain under the eye of
+Madame Lerat, who had been forewoman in the workroom for ten years. Of
+a morning, when her mother looked at the cuckoo clock, off she went by
+herself, looking very pretty with her shoulders tightly confined in her
+old black dress, which was both too narrow and too short; and Madame
+Lerat had to note the hour of her arrival and tell it to Gervaise. She
+was allowed twenty minutes to go from the Rue de la Goutte-d’Or to the
+Rue du Caire, and it was enough, for these young hussies have the legs
+of racehorses. Sometimes she arrived exactly on time but so breathless
+and flushed that she must have covered most of the distance at a run
+after dawdling along the way. More often she was a few minutes late.
+Then she would fawn on her aunt all day, hoping to soften her and keep
+her from telling. Madame Lerat understood what it was to be young and
+would lie to the Coupeaus, but she also lectured Nana, stressing the
+dangers a young girl runs on the streets of Paris. _Mon Dieu!_ she
+herself was followed often enough!
+
+“Oh! I watch, you needn’t fear,” said the widow to the Coupeaus. “I
+will answer to you for her as I would for myself. And rather than let a
+blackguard squeeze her, why I’d step between them.”
+
+The workroom at Titreville’s was a large apartment on the first floor,
+with a broad work-table standing on trestles in the centre. Round the
+four walls, the plaster of which was visible in parts where the dirty
+yellowish-grey paper was torn away, there were several stands covered
+with old cardboard boxes, parcels and discarded patterns under a thick
+coating of dust. The gas had left what appeared to be like a daub of
+soot on the ceiling. The two windows opened so wide that without
+leaving the work-table the girls could see the people walking past on
+the pavement over the way.
+
+Madame Lerat arrived the first, in view of setting an example. Then for
+a quarter of an hour the door swayed to and fro, and all the workgirls
+scrambled in, perspiring with tumbled hair. One July morning Nana
+arrived the last, as very often happened. “Ah, me!” she said, “it won’t
+be a pity when I have a carriage of my own.” And without even taking
+off her hat, one which she was weary of patching up, she approached the
+window and leant out, looking to the right and the left to see what was
+going on in the street.
+
+“What are you looking at?” asked Madame Lerat, suspiciously. “Did your
+father come with you?”
+
+“No, you may be sure of that,” answered Nana coolly. “I’m looking at
+nothing—I’m seeing how hot it is. It’s enough to make anyone, having to
+run like that.”
+
+It was a stifling hot morning. The workgirls had drawn down the
+Venetian blinds, between which they could spy out into the street; and
+they had at last begun working on either side of the table, at the
+upper end of which sat Madame Lerat. They were eight in number, each
+with her pot of glue, pincers, tools and curling stand in front of her.
+On the work-table lay a mass of wire, reels, cotton wool, green and
+brown paper, leaves and petals cut out of silk, satin or velvet. In the
+centre, in the neck of a large decanter, one flower-girl had thrust a
+little penny nosegay which had been fading on her breast since the day
+before.
+
+“Oh, I have some news,” said a pretty brunette named Leonie as she
+leaned over her cushion to crimp some rose petals. “Poor Caroline is
+very unhappy about that fellow who used to wait for her every evening.”
+
+“Ah!” said Nana, who was cutting thin strips of green paper. “A man who
+cheats on her every day!”
+
+Madame Lerat had to display severity over the muffled laughter. Then
+Leonie whispered suddenly:
+
+“Quiet. The boss!”
+
+It was indeed Madame Titreville who entered. The tall thin woman
+usually stayed down in the shop. The girls were quite in awe of her
+because she never joked with them. All the heads were now bent over the
+work in diligent silence. Madame Titreville slowly circled the
+work-table. She told one girl her work was sloppy and made her do the
+flower over. Then she stalked out as stiffly as she had come in.
+
+The complaining and low laughter began again.
+
+“Really, young ladies!” said Madame Lerat, trying to look more severe
+than ever. “You will force me to take measures.”
+
+The workgirls paid no attention to her. They were not afraid of her.
+She was too easy-going because she enjoyed being surrounded by these
+young girls whose zest for life sparkled in their eyes. She enjoyed
+taking them aside to hear their confidences about their lovers. She
+even told their fortunes with cards whenever a corner of the work-table
+was free. She was only offended by coarse expressions. As long as you
+avoided those you could say what you pleased.
+
+To tell the truth, Nana perfected her education in nice style in the
+workroom! No doubt she was already inclined to go wrong. But this was
+the finishing stroke—associating with a lot of girls who were already
+worn out with misery and vice. They all hobnobbed and rotted together,
+just the story of the baskets of apples when there are rotten ones
+among them. They maintained a certain propriety in public, but the smut
+flowed freely when they got to whispering together in a corner.
+
+For inexperienced girls like Nana, there was an undesirable atmosphere
+around the workshop, an air of cheap dance halls and unorthodox
+evenings brought in by some of the girls. The laziness of mornings
+after a gay night, the shadows under the eyes, the lounging, the hoarse
+voices, all spread an odor of dark perversion over the work-table which
+contrasted sharply with the brilliant fragility of the artificial
+flowers. Nana eagerly drank it all in and was dizzy with joy when she
+found herself beside a girl who had been around. She always wanted to
+sit next to big Lisa, who was said to be pregnant, and she kept
+glancing curiously at her neighbor as though expecting her to swell up
+suddenly.
+
+“It’s hot enough to make one stifle,” Nana said, approaching a window
+as if to draw the blind farther down; but she leant forward and again
+looked out both to the right and left.
+
+At the same moment Leonie, who was watching a man stationed at the foot
+of the pavement over the way, exclaimed, “What’s that old fellow about?
+He’s been spying here for the last quarter of an hour.”
+
+“Some tom cat,” said Madame Lerat. “Nana, just come and sit down! I
+told you not to stand at the window.”
+
+Nana took up the stems of some violets she was rolling, and the whole
+workroom turned its attention to the man in question. He was a
+well-dressed individual wearing a frock coat and he looked about fifty
+years old. He had a pale face, very serous and dignified in expression,
+framed round with a well trimmed grey beard. He remained for an hour in
+front of a herbalist’s shop with his eyes fixed on the Venetian blinds
+of the workroom. The flower-girls indulged in little bursts of laughter
+which died away amid the noise of the street, and while leaning
+forward, to all appearance busy with their work, they glanced askance
+so as not to lose sight of the gentleman.
+
+“Ah!” remarked Leonie, “he wears glasses. He’s a swell. He’s waiting
+for Augustine, no doubt.”
+
+But Augustine, a tall, ugly, fair-haired girl, sourly answered that she
+did not like old men; whereupon Madame Lerat, jerking her head,
+answered with a smile full of underhand meaning:
+
+“That is a great mistake on your part, my dear; the old ones are more
+affectionate.”
+
+At this moment Leonie’s neighbor, a plump little body, whispered
+something in her ear and Leonie suddenly threw herself back on her
+chair, seized with a fit of noisy laughter, wriggling, looking at the
+gentleman and then laughing all the louder. “That’s it. Oh! that’s it,”
+she stammered. “How dirty that Sophie is!”
+
+“What did she say? What did she say?” asked the whole workroom, aglow
+with curiosity.
+
+Leonie wiped the tears from her eyes without answering. When she became
+somewhat calmer, she began curling her flowers again and declared, “It
+can’t be repeated.”
+
+The others insisted, but she shook her head, seized again with a gust
+of gaiety. Thereupon Augustine, her left-hand neighbor, besought her to
+whisper it to her; and finally Leonie consented to do so with her lips
+close to Augustine’s ear. Augustine threw herself back and wriggled
+with convulsive laughter in her turn. Then she repeated the phrase to a
+girl next to her, and from ear to ear it traveled round the room amid
+exclamations and stifled laughter. When they were all of them
+acquainted with Sophie’s disgusting remark they looked at one another
+and burst out laughing together although a little flushed and confused.
+Madame Lerat alone was not in the secret and she felt extremely vexed.
+
+“That’s very impolite behavior on your part, young ladies,” said she.
+“It is not right to whisper when other people are present. Something
+indecent no doubt! Ah! that’s becoming!”
+
+She did not dare go so far as to ask them to pass Sophie’s remark on to
+her although she burned to hear it. So she kept her eyes on her work,
+amusing herself by listening to the conversation. Now no one could make
+even an innocent remark without the others twisting it around and
+connecting it with the gentleman on the sidewalk. Madame Lerat herself
+once sent them into convulsions of laughter when she said,
+“Mademoiselle Lisa, my fire’s gone out. Pass me yours.”
+
+“Oh! Madame Lerat’s fire’s out!” laughed the whole shop.
+
+They refused to listen to any explanation, but maintained they were
+going to call in the gentleman outside to rekindle Madame Lerat’s fire.
+
+However, the gentleman over the way had gone off. The room grew calmer
+and the work was carried on in the sultry heat. When twelve o’clock
+struck—meal-time—they all shook themselves. Nana, who had hastened to
+the window again, volunteered to do the errands if they liked. And
+Leonie ordered two sous worth of shrimps, Augustine a screw of fried
+potatoes, Lisa a bunch of radishes, Sophie a sausage. Then as Nana was
+doing down the stairs, Madame Lerat, who found her partiality for the
+window that morning rather curious, overtook her with her long legs.
+
+“Wait a bit,” said she. “I’ll go with you. I want to buy something
+too.”
+
+But in the passage below she perceived the gentleman, stuck there like
+a candle and exchanging glances with Nana. The girl flushed very red,
+whereupon her aunt at once caught her by the arm and made her trot over
+the pavement, whilst the individual followed behind. Ah! so the tom cat
+had come for Nana. Well, that _was_ nice! At fifteen years and a half
+to have men trailing after her! Then Madame Lerat hastily began to
+question her. _Mon Dieu!_ Nana didn’t know; he had only been following
+her for five days, but she could not poke her nose out of doors without
+stumbling on men. She believed he was in business; yes, a manufacturer
+of bone buttons. Madame Lerat was greatly impressed. She turned round
+and glanced at the gentleman out of the corner of her eye.
+
+“One can see he’s got a deep purse,” she muttered. “Listen to me,
+kitten; you must tell me everything. You have nothing more to fear
+now.”
+
+Whilst speaking they hastened from shop to shop—to the pork butcher’s,
+the fruiterer’s, the cook-shop; and the errands in greasy paper were
+piled up in their hands. Still they remained amiable, flouncing along
+and casting bright glances behind them with gusts of gay laughter.
+Madame Lerat herself was acting the young girl, on account of the
+button manufacturer who was still following them.
+
+“He is very distinguished looking,” she declared as they returned into
+the passage. “If he only has honorable views—”
+
+Then, as they were going up the stairs she suddenly seemed to remember
+something. “By the way, tell me what the girls were whispering to each
+other—you know, what Sophie said?”
+
+Nana did not make any ceremony. Only she caught Madame Lerat by the
+hand, and caused her to descend a couple of steps, for, really, it
+wouldn’t do to say it aloud, not even on the stairs. When she whispered
+it to her, it was so obscene that Madame Lerat could only shake her
+head, opening her eyes wide, and pursing her lips. Well, at least her
+curiosity wasn’t troubling her any longer.
+
+From that day forth Madame Lerat regaled herself with her niece’s first
+love adventure. She no longer left her, but accompanied her morning and
+evening, bringing her responsibility well to the fore. This somewhat
+annoyed Nana, but all the same she expanded with pride at seeing
+herself guarded like a treasure; and the talk she and her aunt indulged
+in in the street with the button manufacturer behind them flattered
+her, and rather quickened her desire for new flirtations. Oh! her aunt
+understood the feelings of the heart; she even compassionated the
+button manufacturer, this elderly gentleman, who looked so respectable,
+for, after all, sentimental feelings are more deeply rooted among
+people of a certain age. Still she watched. And, yes, he would have to
+pass over her body before stealing her niece.
+
+One evening she approached the gentleman, and told him, as straight as
+a bullet, that his conduct was most improper. He bowed to her politely
+without answering, like an old satyr who was accustomed to hear parents
+tell him to go about his business. She really could not be cross with
+him, he was too well mannered.
+
+Then came lectures on love, allusions to dirty blackguards of men, and
+all sorts of stories about hussies who had repented of flirtations,
+which left Nana in a state of pouting, with eyes gleaming brightly in
+her pale face.
+
+One day, however, in the Rue du Faubourg-Poissonniere the button
+manufacturer ventured to poke his nose between the aunt and the niece
+to whisper some things which ought not to have been said. Thereupon
+Madame Lerat was so frightened that she declared she no longer felt
+able to handle the matter and she told the whole business to her
+brother. Then came another row. There were some pretty rumpuses in the
+Coupeaus’ room. To begin with, the zinc-worker gave Nana a hiding. What
+was that he learnt? The hussy was flirting with old men. All right.
+Only let her be caught philandering out of doors again, she’d be done
+for; he, her father, would cut off her head in a jiffy. Had the like
+ever been seen before! A dirty nose who thought of beggaring her
+family! Thereupon he shook her, declaring in God’s name that she’d have
+to walk straight, for he’d watch her himself in future. He now looked
+her over every night when she came in, even going so far as to sniff at
+her and make her turn round before him.
+
+One evening she got another hiding because he discovered a mark on her
+neck that he maintained was the mark of a kiss. Nana insisted it was a
+bruise that Leonie had given her when they were having a bit of a
+rough-house. Yet at other times her father would tease her, saying she
+was certainly a choice morsel for men. Nana began to display the sullen
+submissiveness of a trapped animal. She was raging inside.
+
+“Why don’t you leave her alone?” repeated Gervaise, who was more
+reasonable. “You will end by making her wish to do it by talking to her
+about it so much.”
+
+Ah! yes, indeed, she did wish to do it. She itched all over, longing to
+break loose and gad all the time, as father Coupeau said. He insisted
+so much on the subject that even an honest girl would have fired up.
+Even when he was abusing her, he taught her a few things she did not
+know as yet, which, to say the least was astonishing. Then, little by
+little she acquired some singular habits. One morning he noticed her
+rummaging in a paper bag and rubbing something on her face. It was rice
+powder, which she plastered on her delicate satin-like skin with
+perverse taste. He caught up the paper bag and rubbed it over her face
+violently enough to graze her skin and called her a miller’s daughter.
+On another occasion she brought some ribbon home, to do up her old
+black hat which she was so ashamed of. He asked her in a furious voice
+where she had got those ribbons from. Had she earned them by lying on
+her back or had she bagged them somewhere? A hussy or a thief, and
+perhaps both by now?
+
+More than once he found her with some pretty little doodad. She had
+found a little interlaced heart in the street on Rue d’Aboukir. Her
+father crushed the heart under his foot, driving her to the verge of
+throwing herself at him to ruin something of his. For two years she had
+been longing for one of those hearts, and now he had smashed it! This
+was too much, she was reaching the end of the line with him.
+
+Coupeau was often in the wrong in the manner in which he tried to rule
+Nana. His injustice exasperated her. She at last left off attending the
+workshop and when the zinc-worker gave her a hiding, she declared she
+would not return to Titreville’s again, for she was always placed next
+to Augustine, who must have swallowed her feet to have such a foul
+breath. Then Coupeau took her himself to the Rue du Caire and requested
+the mistress of the establishment to place her always next to
+Augustine, by way of punishment. Every morning for a fortnight he took
+the trouble to come down from the Barriere Poissonniere to escort Nana
+to the door of the flower shop. And he remained for five minutes on the
+footway, to make sure that she had gone in. But one morning while he
+was drinking a glass with a friend in a wineshop in the Rue
+Saint-Denis, he perceived the hussy darting down the street. For a
+fortnight she had been deceiving him; instead of going into the
+workroom, she climbed a story higher, and sat down on the stairs,
+waiting till he had gone off. When Coupeau began casting the blame on
+Madame Lerat, the latter flatly replied that she would not accept it.
+She had told her niece all she ought to tell her, to keep her on her
+guard against men, and it was not her fault if the girl still had a
+liking for the nasty beasts. Now, she washed her hands of the whole
+business; she swore she would not mix up in it, for she knew what she
+knew about scandalmongers in her own family, yes, certain persons who
+had the nerve to accuse her of going astray with Nana and finding an
+indecent pleasure in watching her take her first misstep. Then Coupeau
+found out from the proprietress that Nana was being corrupted by that
+little floozie Leonie, who had given up flower-making to go on the
+street. Nana was being tempted by the jingle of cash and the lure of
+adventure on the streets.
+
+In the tenement in the Rue de la Goutte-d’Or, Nana’s old fellow was
+talked about as a gentleman everyone was acquainted with. Oh! he
+remained very polite, even a little timid, but awfully obstinate and
+patient, following her ten paces behind like an obedient poodle.
+Sometimes, indeed, he ventured into the courtyard. One evening, Madame
+Gaudron met him on the second floor landing, and he glided down
+alongside the balusters with his nose lowered and looking as if on
+fire, but frightened. The Lorilleuxs threatened to move out if that
+wayward niece of theirs brought men trailing in after her. It was
+disgusting. The staircase was full of them. The Boches said that they
+felt sympathy for the old gentleman because he had fallen for a tramp.
+He was really a respectable businessman, they had seen his button
+factory on the Boulevard de la Villette. He would be an excellent catch
+for a decent girl.
+
+For the first month Nana was greatly amused with her old flirt. You
+should have seen him always dogging her—a perfect great nuisance, who
+followed far behind, in the crowd, without seeming to do so. And his
+legs! Regular lucifers. No more moss on his pate, only four straight
+hairs falling on his neck, so that she was always tempted to ask him
+where his hairdresser lived. Ah! what an old gaffer, he was comical and
+no mistake, nothing to get excited over.
+
+Then, on finding him always behind her, she no longer thought him so
+funny. She became afraid of him and would have called out if he had
+approached her. Often, when she stopped in front of a jeweler’s shop,
+she heard him stammering something behind her. And what he said was
+true; she would have liked to have had a cross with a velvet neck-band,
+or a pair of coral earrings, so small you would have thought they were
+drops of blood.
+
+More and more, as she plodded through the mire of the streets, getting
+splashed by passing vehicles and being dazzled by the magnificence of
+the window displays, she felt longings that tortured her like hunger
+pangs, yearnings for better clothes, for eating in restaurants, for
+going to the theatre, for a room of her own with nice furniture. Right
+at those moments, it never failed that her old gentleman would come up
+to whisper something in her ear. Oh, if only she wasn’t afraid of him,
+how readily she would have taken up with him.
+
+When the winter arrived, life became impossible at home. Nana had her
+hiding every night. When her father was tired of beating her, her
+mother smacked her to teach her how to behave. And there were
+free-for-alls; as soon as one of them began to beat her, the other took
+her part, so that all three of them ended by rolling on the floor in
+the midst of the broken crockery. And with all this, there were short
+rations and they shivered with cold. Whenever the girl bought anything
+pretty, a bow or a pair of buttons, her parents confiscated the
+purchase and drank what they could get for it. She had nothing of her
+own, excepting her allowance of blows, before coiling herself up
+between the rags of a sheet, where she shivered under her little black
+skirt, which she stretched out by way of a blanket. No, that cursed
+life could not continue; she was not going to leave her skin in it. Her
+father had long since ceased to count for her; when a father gets drunk
+like hers did, he isn’t a father, but a dirty beast one longs to be rid
+of. And now, too, her mother was doing down the hill in her esteem. She
+drank as well. She liked to go and fetch her husband at Pere Colombe’s,
+so as to be treated; and she willingly sat down, with none of the air
+of disgust that she had assumed on the first occasion, draining glasses
+indeed at one gulp, dragging her elbows over the table for hours and
+leaving the place with her eyes starting out of her head.
+
+When Nana passed in front of l’Assommoir and saw her mother inside,
+with her nose in her glass, fuddled in the midst of the disputing men,
+she was seized with anger; for youth which has other dainty thoughts
+uppermost does not understand drink. On these evenings it was a pretty
+sight. Father drunk, mother drunk, a hell of a home that stunk with
+liquor, and where there was no bread. To tell the truth, a saint would
+not have stayed in the place. So much the worse if she flew the coop
+one of these days; her parents would have to say their _mea culpa_, and
+own that they had driven her out themselves.
+
+One Saturday when Nana came home she found her father and her mother in
+a lamentable condition. Coupeau, who had fallen across the bed was
+snoring. Gervaise, crouching on a chair was swaying her head, with her
+eyes vaguely and threateningly staring into vacancy. She had forgotten
+to warm the dinner, the remains of a stew. A tallow dip which she
+neglected to snuff revealed the shameful misery of their hovel.
+
+“It’s you, shrimp?” stammered Gervaise. “Ah, well, your father will
+take care of you.”
+
+Nana did not answer, but remained pale, looking at the cold stove, the
+table on which no plates were laid, the lugubrious hovel which this
+pair of drunkards invested with the pale horror of their callousness.
+She did not take off her hat but walked round the room; then with her
+teeth tightly set, she opened the door and went out.
+
+“You are doing down again?” asked her mother, who was unable even to
+turn her head.
+
+“Yes; I’ve forgotten something. I shall come up again. Good evening.”
+
+And she did not return. On the morrow when the Coupeaus were sobered
+they fought together, reproaching each other with being the cause of
+Nana’s flight. Ah! she was far away if she were running still! As
+children are told of sparrows, her parents might set a pinch of salt on
+her tail, and then perhaps they would catch her. It was a great blow,
+and crushed Gervaise, for despite the impairment of her faculties, she
+realized perfectly well that her daughter’s misconduct lowered her
+still more; she was alone now, with no child to think about, able to
+let herself sink as low as she could fall. She drank steadily for three
+days. Coupeau prowled along the exterior Boulevards without seeing Nana
+and then came home to smoke his pipe peacefully. He was always back in
+time for his soup.
+
+In this tenement, where girls flew off every month like canaries whose
+cages are left open, no one was astonished to hear of the Coupeaus’
+mishap. But the Lorilleuxs were triumphant. Ah! they had predicted that
+the girl would reward her parents in this fashion. It was deserved; all
+artificial flower-girls went that way. The Boches and the Poissons also
+sneered with an extraordinary display and outlay of grief. Lantier
+alone covertly defended Nana. _Mon Dieu!_ said he, with his puritanical
+air, no doubt a girl who so left her home did offend her parents; but,
+with a gleam in the corner of his eyes, he added that, dash it! the
+girl was, after all, too pretty to lead such a life of misery at her
+age.
+
+“Do you know,” cried Madame Lorilleux, one day in the Boches’ room,
+where the party were taking coffee; “well, as sure as daylight,
+Clump-clump sold her daughter. Yes she sold her, and I have proof of
+it! That old fellow, who was always on the stairs morning and night,
+went up to pay something on account. It stares one in the face. They
+were seen together at the Ambigu Theatre—the young wench and her old
+tom cat. Upon my word of honor, they’re living together, it’s quite
+plain.”
+
+They discussed the scandal thoroughly while finishing their coffee.
+Yes, it was quite possible. Soon most of the neighborhood accepted the
+conclusion that Gervaise had actually sold her daughter.
+
+Gervaise now shuffled along in her slippers, without caring a rap for
+anyone. You might have called her a thief in the street, she wouldn’t
+have turned round. For a month past she hadn’t looked at Madame
+Fauconnier’s; the latter had had to turn her out of the place to avoid
+disputes. In a few weeks’ time she had successively entered the service
+of eight washerwomen; she only lasted two or three days in each place
+before she got the sack, so badly did she iron the things entrusted to
+her, careless and dirty, her mind failing to such a point that she
+quite forgot her own craft. At last realizing her own incapacity she
+abandoned ironing; and went out washing by the day at the wash-house in
+the Rue Neuve, where she still jogged on, floundering about in the
+water, fighting with filth, reduced to the roughest but simplest work,
+a bit lower on the down-hill slopes. The wash-house scarcely beautified
+her. A real mud-splashed dog when she came out of it, soaked and
+showing her blue skin. At the same time she grew stouter and stouter,
+despite her frequent dances before the empty sideboard, and her leg
+became so crooked that she could no longer walk beside anyone without
+the risk of knocking him over, so great indeed was her limp.
+
+Naturally enough when a woman falls to this point all her pride leaves
+her. Gervaise had divested herself of all her old self-respect,
+coquetry and need of sentiment, propriety and politeness. You might
+have kicked her, no matter where, she did not feel kicks for she had
+become too fat and flabby. Lantier had altogether neglected her; he no
+longer escorted her or even bothered to give her a pinch now and again.
+She did not seem to notice this finish of a long liaison slowly spun
+out, and ending in mutual insolence. It was a chore the less for her.
+Even Lantier’s intimacy with Virginie left her quite calm, so great was
+her indifference now for all that she had been so upset about in the
+past. She would even have held a candle for them now.
+
+Everyone was aware that Virginie and Lantier were carrying on. It was
+much too convenient, especially with Poisson on duty every other night.
+Lantier had thought of himself when he advised Virginie to deal in
+dainties. He was too much of a Provincial not to adore sugared things;
+and in fact he would have lived off sugar candy, lozenges, pastilles,
+sugar plums and chocolate. Sugared almonds especially left a little
+froth on his lips so keenly did they tickle his palate. For a year he
+had been living only on sweetmeats. He opened the drawers and stuffed
+himself whenever Virginie asked him to mind the shop. Often, when he
+was talking in the presence of five or six other people, he would take
+the lid off a jar on the counter, dip his hand into it and begin to
+nibble at something sweet; the glass jar remained open and its contents
+diminished. People ceased paying attention to it, it was a mania of his
+so he had declared. Besides, he had devised a perpetual cold, an
+irritation of the throat, which he always talked of calming.
+
+He still did not work, for he had more and more important schemes than
+ever in view. He was contriving a superb invention—the umbrella hat, a
+hat which transformed itself into an umbrella on your head as soon as a
+shower commenced to fall; and he promised Poisson half shares in the
+profit of it, and even borrowed twenty franc pieces of him to defray
+the cost of experiments. Meanwhile the shop melted away on his tongue.
+All the stock-in-trade followed suit down to the chocolate cigars and
+pipes in pink caramel. Whenever he was stuffed with sweetmeats and
+seized with a fit of tenderness, he paid himself with a last lick on
+the groceress in a corner, who found him all sugar with lips which
+tasted like burnt almonds. Such a delightful man to kiss! He was
+positively becoming all honey. The Boches said he merely had to dip a
+finger into his coffee to sweeten it.
+
+Softened by this perpetual dessert, Lantier showed himself paternal
+towards Gervaise. He gave her advice and scolded her because she no
+longer liked to work. Indeed! A woman of her age ought to know how to
+turn herself round. And he accused her of having always been a glutton.
+Nevertheless, as one ought to hold out a helping hand, even to folks
+who don’t deserve it, he tried to find her a little work. Thus he had
+prevailed upon Virginie to let Gervaise come once a week to scrub the
+shop and the rooms. That was the sort of thing she understood and on
+each occasion she earned her thirty sous. Gervaise arrived on the
+Saturday morning with a pail and a scrubbing brush, without seeming to
+suffer in the least at having to perform a dirty, humble duty, a
+charwoman’s work in the dwelling-place where she had reigned as the
+beautiful fair-haired mistress. It was a last humiliation, the end of
+her pride.
+
+One Saturday she had a hard job of it. It had rained for three days and
+the customers seemed to have brought all the mud of the neighborhood
+into the shop on the soles of their boots. Virginie was at the counter
+doing the grand, with her hair well combed, and wearing a little white
+collar and a pair of lace cuffs. Beside her, on the narrow seat covered
+with red oil-cloth, Lantier did the dandy, looking for the world as if
+he were at home, as if he were the real master of the place, and from
+time to time he carelessly dipped his hand into a jar of peppermint
+drops, just to nibble something sweet according to his habit.
+
+“Look here, Madame Coupeau!” cried Virginie, who was watching the
+scrubbing with compressed lips, “you have left some dirt over there in
+the corner. Scrub that rather better please.”
+
+Gervaise obeyed. She returned to the corner and began to scrub again.
+She bent double on her knees in the midst of the dirty water, with her
+shoulders protruding, her arms stiff and purple with cold. Her old
+skirt, fairly soaked, stuck to her figure. And there on the floor she
+looked a dirty, ill-combed drab, the rents in her jacket showing her
+puffy form, her fat, flabby flesh which heaved, swayed and floundered
+about as she went about her work; and all the while she perspired to
+such a point that from her moist face big drops of sweat fell on to the
+floor.
+
+“The more elbow grease one uses, the more it shines,” said Lantier,
+sententiously, with his mouth full of peppermint drops.
+
+Virginie, who sat back with the demeanor of a princess, her eyes partly
+open, was still watching the scrubbing, and indulging in remarks. “A
+little more on the right there. Take care of the wainscot. You know I
+was not very well pleased last Saturday. There were some stains left.”
+
+And both together, the hatter and the groceress assumed a more
+important air, as if they had been on a throne whilst Gervaise dragged
+herself through the black mud at their feet. Virginie must have enjoyed
+herself, for a yellowish flame darted from her cat’s eyes, and she
+looked at Lantier with an insidious smile. At last she was revenged for
+that hiding she had received at the wash-house, and which she had never
+forgotten.
+
+Whenever Gervaise ceased scrubbing, a sound of sawing could be heard
+from the back room. Through the open doorway, Poisson’s profile stood
+out against the pale light of the courtyard. He was off duty that day
+and was profiting by his leisure time to indulge in his mania for
+making little boxes. He was seated at a table and was cutting out
+arabesques in a cigar box with extraordinary care.
+
+“Say, Badingue!” cried Lantier, who had given him this surname again,
+out of friendship. “I shall want that box of yours as a present for a
+young lady.”
+
+Virginie gave him a pinch and he reached under the counter to run his
+fingers like a creeping mouse up her leg.
+
+“Quite so,” said the policeman. “I was working for you, Auguste, in
+view of presenting you with a token of friendship.”
+
+“Ah, if that’s the case, I’ll keep your little memento!” rejoined
+Lantier with a laugh. “I’ll hang it round my neck with a ribbon.”
+
+Then suddenly, as if this thought brought another one to his memory,
+“By the way,” he cried, “I met Nana last night.”
+
+This news caused Gervaise such emotion that she sunk down in the dirty
+water which covered the floor of the shop.
+
+“Ah!” she muttered speechlessly.
+
+“Yes; as I was going down the Rue des Martyrs, I caught sight of a girl
+who was on the arm of an old fellow in front of me, and I said to
+myself: I know that shape. I stepped faster and sure enough found
+myself face to face with Nana. There’s no need to pity her, she looked
+very happy, with her pretty woolen dress on her back, a gold cross and
+an awfully pert expression.”
+
+“Ah!” repeated Gervaise in a husky voice.
+
+Lantier, who had finished the pastilles, took some barley-sugar out of
+another jar.
+
+“She’s sneaky,” he resumed. “She made a sign to me to follow her, with
+wonderful composure. Then she left her old fellow somewhere in a
+cafe—oh a wonderful chap, the old bloke, quite used up!—and she came
+and joined me under the doorway. A pretty little serpent, pretty, and
+doing the grand, and fawning on you like a little dog. Yes, she kissed
+me, and wanted to have news of everyone—I was very pleased to meet
+her.”
+
+“Ah!” said Gervaise for the third time. She drew herself together, and
+still waited. Hadn’t her daughter had a word for her then? In the
+silence Poisson’s saw could be heard again. Lantier, who felt gay, was
+sucking his barley-sugar, and smacking his lips.
+
+“Well, if _I_ saw her, I should go over to the other side of the
+street,” interposed Virginie, who had just pinched the hatter again
+most ferociously. “It isn’t because you are there, Madame Coupeau, but
+your daughter is rotten to the core. Why, every day Poisson arrests
+girls who are better than she is.”
+
+Gervaise said nothing, nor did she move; her eyes staring into space.
+She ended by jerking her head to and fro, as if in answer to her
+thoughts, whilst the hatter, with a gluttonous mien, muttered:
+
+“Ah, a man wouldn’t mind getting a bit of indigestion from that sort of
+rottenness. It’s as tender as chicken.”
+
+But the grocer gave him such a terrible look that he had to pause and
+quiet her with some delicate attention. He watched the policeman, and
+perceiving that he had his nose lowered over his little box again, he
+profited of the opportunity to shove some barley-sugar into Virginie’s
+mouth. Thereupon she laughed at him good-naturedly and turned all her
+anger against Gervaise.
+
+“Just make haste, eh? The work doesn’t do itself while you remain stuck
+there like a street post. Come, look alive, I don’t want to flounder
+about in the water till night time.”
+
+And she added hatefully in a lower tone: “It isn’t my fault if her
+daughter’s gone and left her.”
+
+No doubt Gervaise did not hear. She had begun to scrub the floor again,
+with her back bent and dragging herself along with a frog-like motion.
+She still had to sweep the dirty water out into the gutter, and then do
+the final rinsing.
+
+After a pause, Lantier, who felt bored, raised his voice again: “Do you
+know, Badingue,” he cried, “I met your boss yesterday in the Rue de
+Rivoli. He looked awfully down in the mouth. He hasn’t six months’ life
+left in his body. Ah! after all, with the life he leads—”
+
+He was talking about the Emperor. The policeman did not raise his eyes,
+but curtly answered: “If you were the Government you wouldn’t be so
+fat.”
+
+“Oh, my dear fellow, if I were the Government,” rejoined the hatter,
+suddenly affecting an air of gravity, “things would go on rather
+better, I give you my word for it. Thus, their foreign policy—why, for
+some time past it has been enough to make a fellow sweat. If I—I who
+speak to you—only knew a journalist to inspire him with my ideas.”
+
+He was growing animated, and as he had finished crunching his
+barley-sugar, he opened a drawer from which he took a number of
+jujubes, which he swallowed while gesticulating.
+
+“It’s quite simple. Before anything else, I should give Poland her
+independence again, and I should establish a great Scandinavian state
+to keep the Giant of the North at bay. Then I should make a republic
+out of all the little German states. As for England, she’s scarcely to
+be feared; if she budged ever so little I should send a hundred
+thousand men to India. Add to that I should send the Sultan back to
+Mecca and the Pope to Jerusalem, belaboring their backs with the butt
+end of a rifle. Eh? Europe would soon be clean. Come, Badingue, just
+look here.”
+
+He paused to take five or six jujubes in his hand. “Why, it wouldn’t
+take longer than to swallow these.”
+
+And he threw one jujube after another into his open mouth.
+
+“The Emperor has another plan,” said the policeman, after reflecting
+for a couple of minutes.
+
+“Oh, forget it,” rejoined the hatter. “We know what his plan is. All
+Europe is laughing at us. Every day the Tuileries footmen find your
+boss under the table between a couple of high society floozies.”
+
+Poisson rose to his feet. He came forward and placed his hand on his
+heart, saying: “You hurt me, Auguste. Discuss, but don’t involve
+personalities.”
+
+Thereupon Virginie intervened, bidding them stop their row. She didn’t
+care a fig for Europe. How could two men, who shared everything else,
+always be disputing about politics? For a minute they mumbled some
+indistinct words. Then the policeman, in view of showing that he
+harbored no spite, produced the cover of his little box, which he had
+just finished; it bore the inscription in marquetry: “To Auguste, a
+token of friendship.” Lantier, feeling exceedingly flattered, lounged
+back and spread himself out so that he almost sat upon Virginie. And
+the husband viewed the scene with his face the color of an old wall and
+his bleared eyes fairly expressionless; but all the same, at moments
+the red hairs of his moustaches stood up on end of their own accord in
+a very singular fashion, which would have alarmed any man who was less
+sure of his business than the hatter.
+
+This beast of a Lantier had the quiet cheek which pleases ladies. As
+Poisson turned his back he was seized with the idea of printing a kiss
+on Madame Poisson’s left eye. As a rule he was stealthily prudent, but
+when he had been disputing about politics he risked everything, so as
+to show the wife his superiority. These gloating caresses, cheekily
+stolen behind the policeman’s back, revenged him on the Empire which
+had turned France into a house of quarrels. Only on this occasion he
+had forgotten Gervaise’s presence. She had just finished rinsing and
+wiping the shop, and she stood near the counter waiting for her thirty
+sous. However, the kiss on Virginie’s eye left her perfectly calm, as
+being quite natural, and as part of a business she had no right to mix
+herself up in. Virginie seemed rather vexed. She threw the thirty sous
+on to the counter in front of Gervaise. The latter did not budge but
+stood there waiting, still palpitating with the effort she had made in
+scrubbing, and looking as soaked and as ugly as a dog fished out of the
+sewer.
+
+“Then she didn’t tell you anything?” she asked the hatter at last.
+
+“Who?” he cried. “Ah, yes; you mean Nana. No, nothing else. What a
+tempting mouth she has, the little hussy! Real strawberry jam!”
+
+Gervaise went off with her thirty sous in her hand. The holes in her
+shoes spat water forth like pumps; they were real musical shoes, and
+played a tune as they left moist traces of their broad soles along the
+pavement.
+
+In the neighborhood the feminine tipplers of her own class now related
+that she drank to console herself for her daughter’s misconduct. She
+herself, when she gulped down her dram of spirits on the counter,
+assumed a dramatic air, and tossed the liquor into her mouth, wishing
+it would “do” for her. And on the days when she came home boozed she
+stammered that it was all through grief. But honest folks shrugged
+their shoulders. They knew what that meant: ascribing the effects of
+the peppery fire of l’Assommoir to grief, indeed! At all events, she
+ought to have called it bottled grief. No doubt at the beginning she
+couldn’t digest Nana’s flight. All the honest feelings remaining in her
+revolted at the thought, and besides, as a rule a mother doesn’t like
+to have to think that her daughter, at that very moment, perhaps, is
+being familiarly addressed by the first chance comer. But Gervaise was
+already too stultified with a sick head and a crushed heart, to think
+of the shame for long. With her it came and went. She remained
+sometimes for a week together without thinking of her daughter, and
+then suddenly a tender or an angry feeling seized hold of her,
+sometimes when she had her stomach empty, at others when it was full, a
+furious longing to catch Nana in some corner, where she would perhaps
+have kissed her or perhaps have beaten her, according to the fancy of
+the moment.
+
+Whenever these thoughts came over her, Gervaise looked on all sides in
+the streets with the eyes of a detective. Ah! if she had only seen her
+little sinner, how quickly she would have brought her home again! The
+neighborhood was being turned topsy-turvy that year. The Boulevard
+Magenta and the Boulevard Ornano were being pierced; they were doing
+away with the old Barriere Poissonniere and cutting right through the
+outer Boulevard. The district could not be recognized. The whole of one
+side of the Rue des Poissonniers had been pulled down. From the Rue de
+la Goutte-d’Or a large clearing could now be seen, a dash of sunlight
+and open air; and in place of the gloomy buildings which had hidden the
+view in this direction there rose up on the Boulevard Ornano a perfect
+monument, a six-storied house, carved all over like a church, with
+clear windows, which, with their embroidered curtains, seemed
+symbolical of wealth. This white house, standing just in front of the
+street, illuminated it with a jet of light, as it were, and every day
+it caused discussions between Lantier and Poisson.
+
+Gervaise had several times had tidings of Nana. There are always ready
+tongues anxious to pay you a sorry compliment. Yes, she had been told
+that the hussy had left her old gentleman, just like the inexperienced
+girl she was. She had gotten along famously with him, petted, adored,
+and free, too, if she had only known how to manage the situation. But
+youth is foolish, and she had no doubt gone off with some young rake,
+no one knew exactly where. What seemed certain was that one afternoon
+she had left her old fellow on the Place de la Bastille, just for half
+a minute, and he was still waiting for her to return. Other persons
+swore they had seen her since, dancing on her heels at the “Grand Hall
+of Folly,” in the Rue de la Chapelle. Then it was that Gervaise took it
+into her head to frequent all the dancing places of the neighborhood.
+She did not pass in front of a public ball-room without going in.
+Coupeau accompanied her. At first they merely made the round of the
+room, looking at the drabs who were jumping about. But one evening, as
+they had some coin, they sat down and ordered a large bowl of hot wine
+in view of regaling themselves and waiting to see if Nana would turn
+up. At the end of a month or so they had practically forgotten her, but
+they frequented the halls for their own pleasure, liking to look at the
+dancers. They would remain for hours without exchanging a word, resting
+their elbows on the table, stultified amidst the quaking of the floor,
+and yet no doubt amusing themselves as they stared with pale eyes at
+the Barriere women in the stifling atmosphere and ruddy glow of the
+hall.
+
+It happened one November evening that they went into the “Grand Hall of
+Folly” to warm themselves. Out of doors a sharp wind cut you across the
+face. But the hall was crammed. There was a thundering big swarm
+inside; people at all the tables, people in the middle, people up
+above, quite an amount of flesh. Yes, those who cared for tripes could
+enjoy themselves. When they had made the round twice without finding a
+vacant table, they decided to remain standing and wait till somebody
+went off. Coupeau was teetering on his legs, in a dirty blouse, with an
+old cloth cap which had lost its peak flattened down on his head. And
+as he blocked the way, he saw a scraggy young fellow who was wiping his
+coat-sleeve after elbowing him.
+
+“Say!” cried Coupeau in a fury, as he took his pipe out of his black
+mouth. “Can’t you apologize? And you play the disgusted one? Just
+because a fellow wears a blouse!”
+
+The young man turned round and looked at the zinc-worker from head to
+foot.
+
+“I’ll just teach you, you scraggy young scamp,” continued Coupeau,
+“that the blouse is the finest garment out; yes! the garment of work.
+I’ll wipe you if you like with my fists. Did one ever hear of such a
+thing—a ne’er-do-well insulting a workman!”
+
+Gervaise tried to calm him, but in vain. He drew himself up in his
+rags, in full view, and struck his blouse, roaring: “There’s a man’s
+chest under that!”
+
+Thereupon the young man dived into the midst of the crowd, muttering:
+“What a dirty blackguard!”
+
+Coupeau wanted to follow and catch him. He wasn’t going to let himself
+be insulted by a fellow with a coat on. Probably it wasn’t even paid
+for! Some second-hand toggery to impress a girl with, without having to
+fork out a centime. If he caught the chap again, he’d bring him down on
+his knees and make him bow to the blouse. But the crush was too great;
+there was no means of walking. He and Gervaise turned slowly round the
+dancers; there were three rows of sightseers packed close together,
+whose faces lighted up whenever any of the dancers showed off. As
+Coupeau and Gervaise were both short, they raised themselves up on
+tiptoe, trying to see something besides the chignons and hats that were
+bobbing about. The cracked brass instruments of the orchestra were
+furiously thundering a quadrille, a perfect tempest which made the hall
+shake; while the dancers, striking the floor with their feet, raised a
+cloud of dust which dimmed the brightness of the gas. The heat was
+unbearable.
+
+“Look there,” said Gervaise suddenly.
+
+“Look at what?”
+
+“Why, at that velvet hat over there.”
+
+They raised themselves up on tiptoe. On the left hand there was an old
+black velvet hat trimmed with ragged feathers bobbing about—regular
+hearse’s plumes. It was dancing a devil of a dance, this hat—bouncing
+and whirling round, diving down and then springing up again. Coupeau
+and Gervaise lost sight of it as the people round about moved their
+heads, but then suddenly they saw it again, swaying farther off with
+such droll effrontery that folks laughed merely at the sight of this
+dancing hat, without knowing what was underneath it.
+
+“Well?” asked Coupeau.
+
+“Don’t you recognize that head of hair?” muttered Gervaise in a stifled
+voice. “May my head be cut off if it isn’t her.”
+
+With one shove the zinc-worker made his way through the crowd. _Mon
+Dieu!_ yes, it was Nana! And in a nice pickle too! She had nothing on
+her back but an old silk dress, all stained and sticky from having
+wiped the tables of boozing dens, and with its flounces so torn that
+they fell in tatters round about. Not even a bit of a shawl over her
+shoulders. And to think that the hussy had had such an attentive,
+loving gentleman, and had yet fallen to this condition, merely for the
+sake of following some rascal who had beaten her, no doubt!
+Nevertheless she had remained fresh and insolent, with her hair as
+frizzy as a poodle’s, and her mouth bright pink under that rascally hat
+of hers.
+
+“Just wait a bit, I’ll make her dance!” resumed Coupeau.
+
+Naturally enough, Nana was not on her guard. You should have seen how
+she wriggled about! She twisted to the right and to the left, bending
+double as if she were going to break herself in two, and kicking her
+feet as high as her partner’s face. A circle had formed about her and
+this excited her even more. She raised her skirts to her knees and
+really let herself go in a wild dance, whirling and turning, dropping
+to the floor in splits, and then jigging and bouncing.
+
+Coupeau was trying to force his way through the dancers and was
+disrupting the quadrille.
+
+“I tell you, it’s my daughter!” he cried; “let me pass.”
+
+Nana was now dancing backwards, sweeping the floor with her flounces,
+rounding her figure and wriggling it, so as to look all the more
+tempting. She suddenly received a masterly blow just on the right
+cheek. She raised herself up and turned quite pale on recognizing her
+father and mother. Bad luck and no mistake.
+
+“Turn him out!” howled the dancers.
+
+But Coupeau, who had just recognized his daughter’s cavalier as the
+scraggy young man in the coat, did not care a fig for what the people
+said.
+
+“Yes, it’s us,” he roared. “Eh? You didn’t expect it. So we catch you
+here, and with a whipper-snapper, too, who insulted me a little while
+ago!”
+
+Gervaise, whose teeth were tight set, pushed him aside, exclaiming,
+“Shut up. There’s no need of so much explanation.”
+
+And, stepping forward, she dealt Nana a couple of hearty cuffs. The
+first knocked the feathered hat on one side, and the second left a red
+mark on the girl’s white cheek. Nana was too stupefied either to cry or
+resist. The orchestra continued playing, the crowd grew angry and
+repeated savagely, “Turn them out! Turn them out!”
+
+“Come, make haste!” resumed Gervaise. “Just walk in front, and don’t
+try to run off. You shall sleep in prison if you do.”
+
+The scraggy young man had prudently disappeared. Nana walked ahead,
+very stiff and still stupefied by her bad luck. Whenever she showed the
+lest unwillingness, a cuff from behind brought her back to the
+direction of the door. And thus they went out, all three of them, amid
+the jeers and banter of the spectators, whilst the orchestra finished
+playing the finale with such thunder that the trombones seemed to be
+spitting bullets.
+
+The old life began again. After sleeping for twelve hours in her
+closet, Nana behaved very well for a week or so. She had patched
+herself a modest little dress, and wore a cap with the strings tied
+under her chignon. Seized indeed with remarkable fervor, she declared
+she would work at home, where one could earn what one liked without
+hearing any nasty work-room talk; and she procured some work and
+installed herself at a table, getting up at five o’clock in the morning
+on the first few days to roll her sprigs of violets. But when she had
+delivered a few gross, she stretched her arms and yawned over her work,
+with her hands cramped, for she had lost her knack of stem-rolling, and
+suffocated, shut up like this at home after allowing herself so much
+open air freedom during the last six months. Then the glue dried, the
+petals and the green paper got stained with grease, and the
+flower-dealer came three times in person to make a row and claim his
+spoiled materials.
+
+Nana idled along, constantly getting a hiding from her father, and
+wrangling with her mother morning and night—quarrels in which the two
+women flung horrible words at each other’s head. It couldn’t last; the
+twelfth day she took herself off, with no more luggage than her modest
+dress on her back and her cap perched over one ear. The Lorilleuxs, who
+had pursed their lips on hearing of her return and repentance, nearly
+died of laughter now. Second performance, eclipse number two, all
+aboard for the train for Saint-Lazare, the prison-hospital for
+streetwalkers! No, it was really too comical. Nana took herself off in
+such an amusing style. Well, if the Coupeaus wanted to keep her in the
+future, they must shut her up in a cage.
+
+In the presence of other people the Coupeaus pretended they were very
+glad to be rid of the girl, though in reality they were enraged.
+However, rage can’t last forever, and soon they heard without even
+blinking that Nana was seen in the neighborhood. Gervaise, who accused
+her of doing it to enrage them, set herself above the scandal; she
+might meet her daughter on the street, she said; she wouldn’t even
+dirty her hand to cuff her; yes, it was all over; she might have seen
+her lying in the gutter, dying on the pavement, and she would have
+passed by without even admitting that such a hussy was her own child.
+
+Nana meanwhile was enlivening the dancing halls of the neighborhood.
+She was known from the “Ball of Queen Blanche” to the “Great Hall of
+Folly.” When she entered the “Elysee-Montmartre,” folks climbed onto
+the tables to see her do the “sniffling crawfish” during the
+pastourelle. As she had twice been turned out of the “Chateau Rouge”
+hall, she walked outside the door waiting for someone she knew to
+escort her inside. The “Black Ball” on the outer Boulevard and the
+“Grand Turk” in the Rue des Poissonniers, were respectable places where
+she only went when she had some fine dress on. Of all the jumping
+places of the neighborhood, however, those she most preferred were the
+“Hermitage Ball” in a damp courtyard and “Robert’s Ball” in the Impasse
+du Cadran, two dirty little halls, lighted up with a half dozen oil
+lamps, and kept very informally, everyone pleased and everyone free, so
+much so that the men and their girls kissed each other at their ease,
+in the dances, without being disturbed. Nana had ups and downs, perfect
+transformations, now tricked out like a stylish woman and now all dirt.
+Ah! she had a fine life.
+
+On several occasions the Coupeaus fancied they saw her in some shady
+dive. They turned their backs and decamped in another direction so as
+not to be obliged to recognize her. They didn’t care to be laughed at
+by a whole dancing hall again for the sake of bringing such a dolt
+home. One night as they were going to bed, however, someone knocked at
+the door. It was Nana who matter-of-factly came to ask for a bed; and
+in what a state. _Mon Dieu!_ her head was bare, her dress in tatters,
+and her boots full of holes—such a toilet as might have led the police
+to run her in, and take her off to the Depot. Naturally enough she
+received a hiding, and then she gluttonously fell on a crust of stale
+bread and went to sleep, worn out, with the last mouthful between her
+teeth.
+
+Then this sort of life continued. As soon as she was somewhat recovered
+she would go off and not a sight or sound of her. Weeks or months would
+pass and she would suddenly appear with no explanation. The Coupeaus
+got used to these comings and goings. Well, as long as she didn’t leave
+the door open. What could you expect?
+
+There was only one thing that really bothered Gervaise. This was to see
+her daughter come home in a dress with a train and a hat covered with
+feathers. No, she couldn’t stomach this display. Nana might indulge in
+riotous living if she chose, but when she came home to her mother’s she
+ought to dress like a workgirl. The dresses with trains caused quite a
+sensation in the house; the Lorilleuxs sneered; Lantier, whose mouth
+sneered, turned the girl round to sniff at her delicious aroma; the
+Boches had forbidden Pauline to associate with this baggage in her
+frippery. And Gervaise was also angered by Nana’s exhausted slumber,
+when after one of her adventures, she slept till noon, with her chignon
+undone and still full of hair pins, looking so white and breathing so
+feebly that she seemed to be dead. Her mother shook her five or six
+times in the course of the morning, threatening to throw a jugful of
+water over her. The sight of this handsome lazy girl, half naked and
+besotted with wine, exasperated her, as she saw her lying there.
+Sometimes Nana opened an eye, closed it again, and then stretched
+herself out all the more.
+
+One day after reproaching her with the life she led and asking her if
+she had taken on an entire battalion of soldiers, Gervaise put her
+threat into execution to the extent of shaking her dripping hand over
+Nana’s body. Quite infuriated, the girl pulled herself up in the sheet,
+and cried out:
+
+“That’s enough, mamma. It would be better not to talk of men. You did
+as you liked, and now I do the same!”
+
+“What! What!” stammered the mother.
+
+“Yes, I never spoke to you about it, for it didn’t concern me; but you
+didn’t used to be very fussy. I often saw you when we lived at the shop
+sneaking off as soon as papa started snoring. So just shut up; you
+shouldn’t have set me the example.”
+
+Gervaise remained pale, with trembling hands, turning round without
+knowing what she was about, whilst Nana, flattened on her breast,
+embraced her pillow with both arms and subsided into the torpor of her
+leaden slumber.
+
+Coupeau growled, no longer sane enough to think of launching out a
+whack. He was altogether losing his mind. And really there was no need
+to call him an unprincipled father, for liquor had deprived him of all
+consciousness of good and evil.
+
+Now it was a settled thing. He wasn’t sober once in six months; then he
+was laid up and had to go into the Sainte-Anne hospital; a pleasure
+trip for him. The Lorilleuxs said that the Duke of Bowel-Twister had
+gone to visit his estates. At the end of a few weeks he left the
+asylum, repaired and set together again, and then he began to pull
+himself to bits once more, till he was down on his back and needed
+another mending. In three years he went seven times to Sainte-Anne in
+this fashion. The neighborhood said that his cell was kept ready for
+him. But the worst of the matter was that this obstinate tippler
+demolished himself more and more each time so that from relapse to
+relapse one could foresee the final tumble, the last cracking of this
+shaky cask, all the hoops of which were breaking away, one after the
+other.
+
+At the same time, he forgot to improve in appearance; a perfect ghost
+to look at! The poison was having terrible effects. By dint of imbibing
+alcohol, his body shrunk up like the embryos displayed in glass jars in
+chemical laboratories. When he approached a window you could see
+through his ribs, so skinny had he become. Those who knew his age, only
+forty years just gone, shuddered when he passed by, bent and unsteady,
+looking as old as the streets themselves. And the trembling of his
+hands increased, the right one danced to such an extent, that sometimes
+he had to take his glass between both fists to carry it to his lips.
+Oh! that cursed trembling! It was the only thing that worried his
+addled brains. You could hear him growling ferocious insults against
+those hands of his.
+
+This last summer, during which Nana usually came home to spend her
+nights, after she had finished knocking about, was especially bad for
+Coupeau. His voice changed entirely as if liquor had set a new music in
+his throat. He became deaf in one ear. Then in a few days his sight
+grew dim, and he had to clutch hold of the stair railings to prevent
+himself from falling. As for his health, he had abominable headaches
+and dizziness. All on a sudden he was seized with acute pains in his
+arms and legs; he turned pale; was obliged to sit down, and remained on
+a chair witless for hours; indeed, after one such attack, his arm
+remained paralyzed for the whole day. He took to his bed several times;
+he rolled himself up and hid himself under the sheet, breathing hard
+and continuously like a suffering animal. Then the strange scenes of
+Sainte-Anne began again. Suspicious and nervous, worried with a burning
+fever, he rolled about in a mad rage, tearing his blouse and biting the
+furniture with his convulsed jaws; or else he sank into a great state
+of emotion, complaining like a child, sobbing and lamenting because
+nobody loved him. One night when Gervaise and Nana returned home
+together they were surprised not to find him in his bed. He had laid
+the bolster in his place. And when they discovered him, hiding between
+the bed and the wall, his teeth were chattering, and he related that
+some men had come to murder him. The two women were obliged to put him
+to bed again and quiet him like a child.
+
+Coupeau knew only one remedy, to toss down a pint of spirits; a whack
+in his stomach, which set him on his feet again. This was how he
+doctored his gripes of a morning. His memory had left him long ago, his
+brain was empty; and he no sooner found himself on his feet than he
+poked fun at illness. He had never been ill. Yes, he had got to the
+point when a fellow kicks the bucket declaring that he’s quite well.
+And his wits were going a-wool-gathering in other respects too. When
+Nana came home after gadding about for six weeks or so he seemed to
+fancy she had returned from doing some errand in the neighborhood.
+Often when she was hanging on an acquaintance’s arm she met him and
+laughed at him without his recognizing her. In short, he no longer
+counted for anything; she might have sat down on him if she had been at
+a loss for a chair.
+
+When the first frosts came Nana took herself off once more under the
+pretence of going to the fruiterer’s to see if there were any baked
+pears. She scented winter and didn’t care to let her teeth chatter in
+front of the fireless stove. The Coupeaus had called her no good
+because they had waited for the pears. No doubt she would come back
+again. The other winter she had stayed away three weeks to fetch her
+father two sous’ worth of tobacco. But the months went by and the girl
+did not show herself. This time she must have indulged in a hard
+gallop. When June arrived she did not even turn up with the sunshine.
+Evidently it was all over, she had found a new meal ticket somewhere or
+other. One day when the Coupeaus were totally broke they sold Nana’s
+iron bedstead for six francs, which they drank together at Saint-Ouen.
+The bedstead had been in their way.
+
+One morning in July Virginie called to Gervaise, who was passing by,
+and asked her to lend a hand in washing up, for Lantier had entertained
+a couple of friends on the day before. And while Gervaise was cleaning
+up the plates and dishes, greasy with the traces of the spread, the
+hatter, who was still digesting in the shop, suddenly called out:
+
+“Say, I saw Nana the other day.”
+
+Virginie, who was seated at the counter looking very careworn in front
+of the jars and drawers which were already three parts emptied, jerked
+her head furiously. She restrained herself so as not to say too much,
+but really it was angering her. Lantier was seeing Nana often. Oh! she
+was by no means sure of him; he was a man to do much worse than that,
+when a fancy for a woman came into his head. Madame Lerat, very
+intimate just then with Virginie, who confided in her, had that moment
+entered the shop, and hearing Lantier’s remark, she pouted
+ridiculously, and asked:
+
+“What do you mean, you saw her?”
+
+“Oh, in the street here,” answered the hatter, who felt highly
+flattered, and began to laugh and twirl his moustaches. “She was in a
+carriage and I was floundering on the pavement. Really it was so, I
+swear it! There’s no use denying it, the young fellows of position who
+are on friendly terms with her are terribly lucky!”
+
+His eyes had brightened and he turned towards Gervaise who was standing
+in the rear of the shop wiping a dish.
+
+“Yes, she was in a carriage, and wore such a stylish dress! I didn’t
+recognise her, she looked so much like a lady of the upper set, with
+her white teeth and her face as fresh as a flower. It was she who waved
+her glove to me. She has caught a count, I believe. Oh! she’s launched
+for good. She can afford to do without any of us; she’s head over heels
+in happiness, the little beggar! What a love of a little kitten! No,
+you’ve no idea what a little kitten she is!”
+
+Gervaise was still wiping the same plate, although it had long since
+been clean and shiny. Virginie was reflecting, anxious about a couple
+of bills which fell due on the morrow and which she didn’t know how to
+pay; whilst Lantier, stout and fat, perspiring the sugar he fed off,
+ventured his enthusiasm for well-dressed little hussies. The shop,
+which was already three parts eaten up, smelt of ruin. Yes, there were
+only a few more burnt almonds to nibble, a little more barley-sugar to
+suck, to clean the Poissons’ business out. Suddenly, on the pavement
+over the way, he perceived the policeman, who was on duty, pass by all
+buttoned up with his sword dangling by his side. And this made him all
+the gayer. He compelled Virginie to look at her husband.
+
+“Dear me,” he muttered, “Badingue looks fine this morning! Just look,
+see how stiff he walks. He must have stuck a glass eye in his back to
+surprise people.”
+
+When Gervaise went back upstairs, she found Coupeau seated on the bed,
+in the torpid state induced by one of his attacks. He was looking at
+the window-panes with his dim expressionless eyes. She sat herself down
+on a chair, tired out, her hands hanging beside her dirty skirt; and
+for a quarter of an hour she remained in front of him without saying a
+word.
+
+“I’ve had some news,” she muttered at last. “Your daughter’s been seen.
+Yes, your daughter’s precious stylish and hasn’t any more need of you.
+She’s awfully happy, she is! Ah! _Mon Dieu!_ I’d give a great deal to
+be in her place.”
+
+Coupeau was still staring at the window-pane. But suddenly he raised
+his ravaged face, and stammered with an idiotic laugh:
+
+“Well, my little lamb, I’m not stopping you. You’re not yet so bad
+looking when you wash yourself. As folks say, however old a pot may be,
+it ends by finding its lid. And, after all, I wouldn’t care if it only
+buttered our bread.”
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XII
+
+
+It must have been the Saturday after quarter day, something like the
+12th or 13th of January—Gervaise didn’t quite know. She was losing her
+wits, for it was centuries since she had had anything warm in her
+stomach. Ah! what an infernal week! A complete clear out. Two loaves of
+four pounds each on Tuesday, which had lasted till Thursday; then a dry
+crust found the night before, and finally not a crumb for thirty-six
+hours, a real dance before the cupboard! What did she know, by the way,
+what she felt on her back, was the frightful cold, a black cold, the
+sky as grimy as a frying-pan, thick with snow which obstinately refused
+to fall. When winter and hunger are both together in your guts, you may
+tighten your belt as much as you like, it hardly feeds you.
+
+Perhaps Coupeau would bring back some money in the evening. He said
+that he was working. Anything is possible, isn’t it? And Gervaise,
+although she had been caught many and many a time, had ended by relying
+on this coin. After all sorts of incidents, she herself couldn’t find
+as much as a duster to wash in the whole neighborhood; and even an old
+lady, whose rooms she did, had just given her the sack, charging her
+with swilling her liqueurs. No one would engage her, she was washed up
+everywhere; and this secretly suited her, for she had fallen to that
+state of indifference when one prefers to croak rather than move one’s
+fingers. At all events, if Coupeau brought his pay home they would have
+something warm to eat. And meanwhile, as it wasn’t yet noon, she
+remained stretched on the mattress, for one doesn’t feel so cold or so
+hungry when one is lying down.
+
+The bed was nothing but a pile of straw in a corner. Bed and bedding
+had gone, piece by piece, to the second-hand dealers of the
+neighborhood. First she had ripped open the mattress to sell handfuls
+of wool at ten sous a pound. When the mattress was empty she got thirty
+sous for the sack so as to be able to have coffee. Everything else had
+followed. Well, wasn’t the straw good enough for them?
+
+Gervaise bent herself like a gun-trigger on the heap of straw, with her
+clothes on and her feet drawn up under her rag of a skirt, so as to
+keep them warm. And huddled up, with her eyes wide open, she turned
+some scarcely amusing ideas over in her mind that morning. Ah! no, they
+couldn’t continue living without food. She no longer felt her hunger,
+only she had a leaden weight on her chest and her brain seemed empty.
+Certainly there was nothing gay to look at in the four corners of the
+hovel. A perfect kennel now, where greyhounds, who wear wrappers in the
+streets, would not even have lived in effigy. Her pale eyes stared at
+the bare walls. Everything had long since gone to “uncle’s.” All that
+remained were the chest of drawers, the table and a chair. Even the
+marble top of the chest of drawers and the drawers themselves, had
+evaporated in the same direction as the bedstead. A fire could not have
+cleaned them out more completely; the little knick-knacks had melted,
+beginning with the ticker, a twelve franc watch, down to the family
+photos, the frames of which had been bought by a woman keeping a
+second-hand store; a very obliging woman, by the way, to whom Gervaise
+carried a saucepan, an iron, a comb and who gave her five, three or two
+sous in exchange, according to the article; enough, at all events to go
+upstairs again with a bit of bread. But now there only remained a
+broken pair of candle snuffers, which the woman refused to give her
+even a sou for.
+
+Oh! if she could only have sold the rubbish and refuse, the dust and
+the dirt, how speedily she would have opened shop, for the room was
+filthy to behold! She only saw cobwebs in the corners and although
+cobwebs are good for cuts, there are, so far, no merchants who buy
+them. Then turning her head, abandoning the idea of doing a bit of
+trade, Gervaise gathered herself together more closely on her straw,
+preferring to stare through the window at the snow-laden sky, at the
+dreary daylight, which froze the marrow in her bones.
+
+What a lot of worry! Though, after all, what was the use of putting
+herself in such a state and puzzling her brains? If she had only been
+able to have a snooze. But her hole of a home wouldn’t go out of her
+mind. Monsieur Marescot, the landlord had come in person the day before
+to tell them that he would turn them out into the street if the two
+quarters’ rent now overdue were not paid during the ensuing week. Well,
+so he might, they certainly couldn’t be worse off on the pavement!
+Fancy this ape, in his overcoat and his woolen gloves, coming upstairs
+to talk to them about rent, as if they had had a treasure hidden
+somewhere!
+
+Just the same with that brute of a Coupeau, who couldn’t come home now
+without beating her; she wished him in the same place as the landlord.
+She sent them all there, wishing to rid herself of everyone, and of
+life too. She was becoming a real storehouse for blows. Coupeau had a
+cudgel, which he called his ass’s fan, and he fanned his old woman. You
+should just have seen him giving her abominable thrashings, which made
+her perspire all over. She was no better herself, for she bit and
+scratched him. Then they stamped about in the empty room and gave each
+other such drubbings as were likely to ease them of all taste for bread
+for good. But Gervaise ended by not caring a fig for these thwacks, not
+more than she did for anything else. Coupeau might celebrate Saint
+Monday for weeks altogether, go off on the spree for months at a time,
+come home mad with liquor, and seek to sharpen her as he said, she had
+grown accustomed to it, she thought him tiresome, but nothing more. It
+was on these occasions that she wished him somewhere else. Yes,
+somewhere, her beast of a man and the Lorilleuxs, the Boches, and the
+Poissons too; in fact, the whole neighborhood, which she had such
+contempt for. She sent all Paris there with a gesture of supreme
+carelessness, and was pleased to be able to revenge herself in this
+style.
+
+One could get used to almost anything, but still, it is hard to break
+the habit of eating. That was the one thing that really annoyed
+Gervaise, the hunger that kept gnawing at her insides. Oh, those
+pleasant little snacks she used to have. Now she had fallen low enough
+to gobble anything she could find.
+
+On special occasions, she would get waste scraps of meat from the
+butcher for four sous a pound. Blacked and dried out meat that couldn’t
+find a purchaser. She would mix this with potatoes for a stew. On other
+occasions, when she had some wine, she treated herself to a sop, a true
+parrot’s pottage. Two sous’ worth of Italian cheese, bushels of white
+potatoes, quarts of dry beans, cooked in their own juice, these also
+were dainties she was not often able to indulge in now. She came down
+to leavings from low eating dens, where for a sou she had a pile of
+fish-bones, mixed with the parings of moldy roast meat. She fell even
+lower—she begged a charitable eating-house keeper to give her his
+customers’ dry crusts, and she made herself a bread soup, letting the
+crusts simmer as long as possible on a neighbor’s fire. On the days
+when she was really hungry, she searched about with the dogs, to see
+what might be lying outside the tradespeople’s doors before the dustmen
+went by; and thus at times she came across rich men’s food, rotten
+melons, stinking mackerel and chops, which she carefully inspected for
+fear of maggots.
+
+Yes, she had come to this. The idea may be a repugnant one to
+delicate-minded folks, but if they hadn’t chewed anything for three
+days running, we should hardly see them quarreling with their stomachs;
+they would go down on all fours and eat filth like other people. Ah!
+the death of the poor, the empty entrails, howling hunger, the animal
+appetite that leads one with chattering teeth to fill one’s stomach
+with beastly refuse in this great Paris, so bright and golden! And to
+think that Gervaise used to fill her belly with fat goose! Now the
+thought of it brought tears to her eyes. One day, when Coupeau bagged
+two bread tickets from her to go and sell them and get some liquor, she
+nearly killed him with the blow of a shovel, so hungered and so enraged
+was she by this theft of a bit of bread.
+
+However, after a long contemplation of the pale sky, she had fallen
+into a painful doze. She dreamt that the snow-laden sky was falling on
+her, so cruelly did the cold pinch. Suddenly she sprang to her feet,
+awakened with a start by a shudder of anguish. _Mon Dieu!_ was she
+going to die? Shivering and haggard she perceived that it was still
+daylight. Wouldn’t the night ever come? How long the time seems when
+the stomach is empty! Hers was waking up in its turn and beginning to
+torture her. Sinking down on the chair, with her head bent and her
+hands between her legs to warm them, she began to think what they would
+have for dinner as soon as Coupeau brought the money home: a loaf, a
+quart of wine and two platefuls of tripe in the Lyonnaise fashion.
+Three o’clock struck by father Bazouge’s clock. Yes, it was only three
+o’clock. Then she began to cry. She would never have strength enough to
+wait until seven. Her body swayed backwards and forwards, she
+oscillated like a child nursing some sharp pain, bending herself double
+and crushing her stomach so as not to feel it. Ah! an accouchement is
+less painful than hunger! And unable to ease herself, seized with rage,
+she rose and stamped about, hoping to send her hunger to sleep by
+walking it to and fro like an infant. For half an hour or so, she
+knocked against the four corners of the empty room. Then, suddenly, she
+paused with a fixed stare. So much the worse! They might say what they
+liked; she would lick their feet if needs be, but she would go and ask
+the Lorilleuxs to lend her ten sous.
+
+At winter time, up these stairs of the house, the paupers’ stairs,
+there was a constant borrowing of ten sous and twenty sous, petty
+services which these hungry beggars rendered each other. Only they
+would rather have died than have applied to the Lorilleuxs, for they
+knew they were too tight-fisted. Thus Gervaise displayed remarkable
+courage in going to knock at their door. She felt so frightened in the
+passage that she experienced the sudden relief of people who ring a
+dentist’s bell.
+
+“Come in!” cried the chainmaker in a sour voice.
+
+How warm and nice it was inside. The forge was blazing, its white flame
+lighting up the narrow workroom, whilst Madame Lorilleux set a coil of
+gold wire to heat. Lorilleux, in front of his worktable, was perspiring
+with the warmth as he soldered the links of a chain together. And it
+smelt nice. Some cabbage soup was simmering on the stove, exhaling a
+steam which turned Gervaise’s heart topsy-turvy, and almost made her
+faint.
+
+“Ah! it’s you,” growled Madame Lorilleux, without even asking her to
+sit down. “What do you want?”
+
+Gervaise did not answer for a moment. She had recently been on fairly
+good terms with the Lorilleuxs, but she saw Boche sitting by the stove.
+He seemed very much at home, telling funny stories.
+
+“What do you want?” repeated Lorilleux.
+
+“You haven’t seen Coupeau?” Gervaise finally stammered at last. “I
+thought he was here.”
+
+The chainmakers and the concierge sneered. No, for certain, they hadn’t
+seen Coupeau. They didn’t stand treat often enough to interest Coupeau.
+Gervaise made an effort and resumed, stuttering:
+
+“It’s because he promised to come home. Yes, he’s to bring me some
+money. And as I have absolute need of something—”
+
+Silence followed. Madame Lorilleux was roughly fanning the fire of the
+stove; Lorilleux had lowered his nose over the bit of chain between his
+fingers, while Boche continued laughing, puffing out his face till it
+looked like the full moon.
+
+“If I only had ten sous,” muttered Gervaise, in a low voice.
+
+The silence persisted.
+
+“Couldn’t you lend me ten sous? Oh! I would return them to you this
+evening!”
+
+Madame Lorilleux turned round and stared at her. Here was a wheedler
+trying to get round them. To-day she asked them for ten sous, to-morrow
+it would be for twenty, and there would be no reason to stop. No,
+indeed; it would be a warm day in winter if they lent her anything.
+
+“But, my dear,” cried Madame Lorilleux. “You know very well that we
+haven’t any money! Look! There’s the lining of my pocket. You can
+search us. If we could, it would be with a willing heart, of course.”
+
+“The heart’s always there,” growled Lorilleux. “Only when one can’t,
+one can’t.”
+
+Gervaise looked very humble and nodded her head approvingly. However,
+she did not take herself off. She squinted at the gold, at the gold
+tied together hanging on the walls, at the gold wire the wife was
+drawing out with all the strength of her little arms, at the gold links
+lying in a heap under the husband’s knotty fingers. And she thought
+that the least bit of this ugly black metal would suffice to buy her a
+good dinner. The workroom was as dirty as ever, full of old iron, coal
+dust and sticky oil stains, half wiped away; but now, as Gervaise saw
+it, it seemed resplendent with treasure, like a money changer’s shop.
+And so she ventured to repeat softly: “I would return them to you,
+return them without fail. Ten sous wouldn’t inconvenience you.”
+
+Her heart was swelling with the effort she made not to own that she had
+had nothing to eat since the day before. Then she felt her legs give
+way. She was frightened that she might burst into tears, and she still
+stammered:
+
+“It would be kind of you! You don’t know. Yes, I’m reduced to that,
+good Lord—reduced to that!”
+
+Thereupon the Lorilleuxs pursed their lips and exchanged covert
+glances. So Clump-clump was begging now! Well, the fall was complete.
+But they did not care for that kind of thing by any means. If they had
+known, they would have barricaded the door, for people should always be
+on their guard against beggars—folks who make their way into apartments
+under a pretext and carry precious objects away with them; and
+especially so in this place, as there was something worth while
+stealing. One might lay one’s fingers no matter where, and carry off
+thirty or forty francs by merely closing the hands. They had felt
+suspicious several times already on noticing how strange Gervaise
+looked when she stuck herself in front of the gold. This time, however,
+they meant to watch her. And as she approached nearer, with her feet on
+the board, the chainmaker roughly called out, without giving any
+further answer to her question: “Look out, pest—take care; you’ll be
+carrying some scraps of gold away on the soles of your shoes. One would
+think you had greased them on purpose to make the gold stick to them.”
+
+Gervaise slowly drew back. For a moment she leant against a rack, and
+seeing that Madame Lorilleux was looking at her hands, she opened them
+and showed them, saying softly, without the least anger, like a fallen
+women who accepts anything:
+
+“I have taken nothing; you can look.”
+
+And then she went off, because the strong smell of the cabbage soup and
+the warmth of the workroom made her feel too ill.
+
+Ah! the Lorilleuxs did not detain her. Good riddance; just see if they
+opened the door to her again. They had seen enough of her face. They
+didn’t want other people’s misery in their rooms, especially when that
+misery was so well deserved. They reveled in their selfish delight at
+being seated so cozily in a warm room, with a dainty soup cooking.
+Boche also stretched himself, puffing with his cheeks still more and
+more, so much, indeed, that his laugh really became indecent. They were
+all nicely revenged on Clump-clump, for her former manners, her blue
+shop, her spreads, and all the rest. It had all worked out just as it
+should, proving where a love of showing-off would get you.
+
+“So that is the style now? Begging for ten sous,” cried Madame
+Lorilleux as soon as Gervaise had gone. “Wait a bit; I’ll lend her ten
+sous, and no mistake, to go and get drunk with.”
+
+Gervaise shuffled along the passage in her slippers, bending her back
+and feeling heavy. On reaching her door she did not open it—her room
+frightened her. It would be better to walk about, she would learn
+patience. As she passed by she stretched out her neck, peering into
+Pere Bru’s kennel under the stairs. There, for instance, was another
+one who must have a fine appetite, for he had breakfasted and dined by
+heart during the last three days. However, he wasn’t at home, there was
+only his hole, and Gervaise felt somewhat jealous, thinking that
+perhaps he had been invited somewhere. Then, as she reached the
+Bijards’ she heard Lalie moaning, and, as the key was in the lock as
+usual, she opened the door and went in.
+
+“What is the matter?” she asked.
+
+The room was very clean. One could see that Lalie had carefully swept
+it, and arranged everything during the morning. Misery might blow into
+the room as much as it liked, carry off the chattels and spread all the
+dirt and refuse about. Lalie, however, came behind and tidied
+everything, imparting, at least, some appearance of comfort within. She
+might not be rich, but you realized that there was a housewife in the
+place. That afternoon her two little ones, Henriette and Jules, had
+found some old pictures which they were cutting out in a corner. But
+Gervaise was greatly surprised to see Lalie herself in bed, looking
+very pale, with the sheet drawn up to her chin. In bed, indeed, then
+she must be seriously ill!
+
+“What is the matter with you?” inquired Gervaise, feeling anxious.
+
+Lalie no longer groaned. She slowly raised her white eyelids, and tried
+to compel her lips to smile, although they were convulsed by a shudder.
+
+“There’s nothing the matter with me,” she whispered very softly.
+“Really nothing at all.”
+
+Then, closing her eyes again, she added with an effort:
+
+“I made myself too tired during the last few days, and so I’m doing the
+idle; I’m nursing myself, as you see.”
+
+But her childish face, streaked with livid stains, assumed such an
+expression of anguish that Gervaise, forgetting her own agony, joined
+her hands and fell on her knees near the bed. For the last month she
+had seen the girl clinging to the walls for support when she went
+about, bent double indeed, by a cough which seemed to presage a coffin.
+Now the poor child could not even cough. She had a hiccough and drops
+of blood oozed from the corners of her mouth.
+
+“It’s not my fault if I hardly feel strong,” she murmured, as if
+relieved. “I’ve tired myself to-day, trying to put things to rights.
+It’s pretty tidy, isn’t it? And I wanted to clean the windows as well,
+but my legs failed me. How stupid! However, when one has finished one
+can go to bed.”
+
+She paused, then said, “Pray, see if my little ones are not cutting
+themselves with the scissors.”
+
+And then she relapsed into silence, trembling and listening to a heavy
+footfall which was approaching up the stairs. Suddenly father Bijard
+brutally opened the door. As usual he was far gone, and his eyes shone
+with the furious madness imparted by the vitriol he had swallowed. When
+he perceived Lalie in bed, he tapped on his thighs with a sneer, and
+took the whip from where it hung.
+
+“Ah! by blazes, that’s too much,” he growled, “we’ll soon have a laugh.
+So the cows lie down on their straw at noon now! Are you poking fun at
+me, you lazy beggar? Come, quick now, up you get!”
+
+And he cracked the whip over the bed. But the child beggingly replied:
+
+“Pray, papa, don’t—don’t strike me. I swear to you you will regret it.
+Don’t strike!”
+
+“Will you jump up?” he roared still louder, “or else I’ll tickle your
+ribs! Jump up, you little hound!”
+
+Then she softly said, “I can’t—do you understand? I’m going to die.”
+
+Gervaise had sprung upon Bijard and torn the whip away from him. He
+stood bewildered in front of the bed. What was the dirty brat talking
+about? Do girls die so young without even having been ill? Some excuse
+to get sugar out of him no doubt. Ah! he’d make inquiries, and if she
+lied, let her look out!
+
+“You will see, it’s the truth,” she continued. “As long as I could I
+avoided worrying you; but be kind now, and bid me good-bye, papa.”
+
+Bijard wriggled his nose as if he fancied she was deceiving him. And
+yet it was true she had a singular look, the serious mien of a grown up
+person. The breath of death which passed through the room in some
+measure sobered him. He gazed around like a man awakened from a long
+sleep, saw the room so tidy, the two children clean, playing and
+laughing. And then he sank on to a chair stammering, “Our little
+mother, our little mother.”
+
+Those were the only words he could find to say, and yet they were very
+tender ones to Lalie, who had never been much spoiled. She consoled her
+father. What especially worried her was to go off like this without
+having completely brought up the little ones. He would take care of
+them, would he not? With her dying breath she told him how they ought
+to be cared for and kept clean. But stultified, with the fumes of drink
+seizing hold of him again, he wagged his head, watching her with an
+uncertain stare as she was dying. All kind of things were touched in
+him, but he could find no more to say and he was too utterly burnt with
+liquor to shed a tear.
+
+“Listen,” resumed Lalie, after a pause. “We owe four francs and seven
+sous to the baker; you must pay that. Madame Gaudron borrowed an iron
+of ours, which you must get from her. I wasn’t able to make any soup
+this evening, but there’s some bread left and you can warm up the
+potatoes.”
+
+Till her last rattle, the poor kitten still remained the little mother.
+Surely she could never be replaced! She was dying because she had had,
+at her age, a true mother’s reason, because her breast was too small
+and weak for so much maternity. And if her ferocious beast of a father
+lost his treasure, it was his own fault. After kicking the mother to
+death, hadn’t he murdered the daughter as well? The two good angels
+would lie in the pauper’s grave and all that could be in store for him
+was to kick the bucket like a dog in the gutter.
+
+Gervaise restrained herself not to burst out sobbing. She extended her
+hands, desirous of easing the child, and as the shred of a sheet was
+falling, she wished to tack it up and arrange the bed. Then the dying
+girl’s poor little body was seen. Ah! _Mon Dieu!_ what misery! What
+woe! Stones would have wept. Lalie was bare, with only the remnants of
+a camisole on her shoulders by way of chemise; yes, bare, with the
+grievous, bleeding nudity of a martyr. She had no flesh left; her bones
+seemed to protrude through the skin. From her ribs to her thighs there
+extended a number of violet stripes—the marks of the whip forcibly
+imprinted on her. A livid bruise, moreover, encircled her left arm, as
+if the tender limb, scarcely larger than a lucifer, had been crushed in
+a vise. There was also an imperfectly closed wound on her right leg,
+left there by some ugly blow and which opened again and again of a
+morning, when she went about doing her errands. From head to foot,
+indeed, she was but one bruise! Oh! this murdering of childhood; those
+heavy hands crushing this lovely girl; how abominable that such
+weakness should have such a weighty cross to bear! Again did Gervaise
+crouch down, no longer thinking of tucking in the sheet, but
+overwhelmed by the pitiful sight of this martyrdom; and her trembling
+lips seemed to be seeking for words of prayer.
+
+“Madame Coupeau,” murmured the child, “I beg you—”
+
+With her little arms she tried to draw up the sheet again, ashamed as
+it were for her father. Bijard, as stultified as ever, with his eyes on
+the corpse which was his own work, still wagged his head, but more
+slowly, like a worried animal might do.
+
+When she had covered Lalie up again, Gervaise felt she could not remain
+there any longer. The dying girl was growing weaker and ceased
+speaking; all that was left to her was her gaze—the dark look she had
+had as a resigned and thoughtful child and which she now fixed on her
+two little ones who were still cutting out their pictures. The room was
+growing gloomy and Bijard was working off his liquor while the poor
+girl was in her death agonies. No, no, life was too abominable! How
+frightful it was! How frightful! And Gervaise took herself off, and
+went down the stairs, not knowing what she was doing, her head
+wandering and so full of disgust that she would willingly have thrown
+herself under the wheels of an omnibus to have finished with her own
+existence.
+
+As she hastened on, growling against cursed fate, she suddenly found
+herself in front of the place where Coupeau pretended that he worked.
+Her legs had taken her there, and now her stomach began singing its
+song again, the complaint of hunger in ninety verses—a complaint she
+knew by heart. However, if she caught Coupeau as he left, she would be
+able to pounce upon the coin at once and buy some grub. A short hour’s
+waiting at the utmost; she could surely stay that out, though she had
+sucked her thumbs since the day before.
+
+She was at the corner of Rue de la Charbonniere and Rue de Chartres. A
+chill wind was blowing and the sky was an ugly leaden grey. The
+impending snow hung over the city but not a flake had fallen as yet.
+She tried stamping her feet to keep warm, but soon stopped as there was
+no use working up an appetite.
+
+There was nothing amusing about. The few passers-by strode rapidly
+along, wrapped up in comforters; naturally enough one does not care to
+tarry when the cold is nipping at your heels. However, Gervaise
+perceived four or five women who were mounting guard like herself
+outside the door of the zinc-works; unfortunate creatures of
+course—wives watching for the pay to prevent it going to the dram-shop.
+There was a tall creature as bulky as a gendarme leaning against the
+wall, ready to spring on her husband as soon as he showed himself. A
+dark little woman with a delicate humble air was walking about on the
+other side of the way. Another one, a fat creature, had brought her two
+brats with her and was dragging them along, one on either hand, and
+both of them shivering and sobbing. And all these women, Gervaise like
+the others, passed and repassed, exchanging glances, but without
+speaking to one another. A pleasant meeting and no mistake. They didn’t
+need to make friends to learn what number they lived at. They could all
+hang out the same sideboard, “Misery & Co.” It seemed to make one feel
+even colder to see them walk about in silence, passing each other in
+this terrible January weather.
+
+However, nobody as yet left the zinc-works. But presently one workman
+appeared, then two, and then three, but these were no doubt decent
+fellows who took their pay home regularly, for they jerked their heads
+significantly as they saw the shadows wandering up and down. The tall
+creature stuck closer than ever to the side of the door, and suddenly
+fell upon a pale little man who was prudently poking his head out. Oh!
+it was soon settled! She searched him and collared his coin. Caught, no
+more money, not even enough to pay for a dram! Then the little man,
+looking very vexed and cast down, followed his gendarme, weeping like a
+child. The workmen were still coming out; and as the fat mother with
+the two brats approached the door, a tall fellow, with a cunning look,
+who noticed her, went hastily inside again to warn her husband; and
+when the latter arrived he had stuffed a couple of cart wheels away,
+two beautiful new five franc pieces, one in each of his shoes. He took
+one of the brats on his arm, and went off telling a variety of lies to
+his old woman who was complaining. There were other workmen also,
+mournful-looking fellows, who carried in their clinched fists the pay
+for the three or five days’ work they had done during a fortnight, who
+reproached themselves with their own laziness, and took drunkards’
+oaths. But the saddest thing of all was the grief of the dark little
+woman, with the humble, delicate look; her husband, a handsome fellow,
+took himself off under her very nose, and so brutally indeed that he
+almost knocked her down, and she went home alone, stumbling past the
+shops and weeping all the tears in her body.
+
+At last the defile finished. Gervaise, who stood erect in the middle of
+the street, was still watching the door. The look-out seemed a bad one.
+A couple of workmen who were late appeared on the threshold, but there
+were still no signs of Coupeau. And when she asked the workmen if
+Coupeau wasn’t coming, they answered her, being up to snuff, that he
+had gone off by the back-door with Lantimeche. Gervaise understood what
+this meant. Another of Coupeau’s lies; she could whistle for him if she
+liked. Then shuffling along in her worn-out shoes, she went slowly down
+the Rue de la Charbonniere. Her dinner was going off in front of her,
+and she shuddered as she saw it running away in the yellow twilight.
+This time it was all over. Not a copper, not a hope, nothing but night
+and hunger. Ah! a fine night to kick the bucket, this dirty night which
+was falling over her shoulders!
+
+She was walking heavily up the Rue des Poissonniers when she suddenly
+heard Coupeau’s voice. Yes, he was there in the Little Civet, letting
+My-Boots treat him. That comical chap, My-Boots, had been cunning
+enough at the end of last summer to espouse in authentic fashion a lady
+who, although rather advanced in years, had still preserved
+considerable traces of beauty. She was a lady-of-the-evening of the Rue
+des Martyrs, none of your common street hussies. And you should have
+seen this fortunate mortal, living like a man of means, with his hands
+in his pockets, well clad and well fed. He could hardly be recognised,
+so fat had he grown. His comrades said that his wife had as much work
+as she liked among the gentlemen of her acquaintance. A wife like that
+and a country-house is all one can wish for to embellish one’s life.
+And so Coupeau squinted admiringly at My-Boots. Why, the lucky dog even
+had a gold ring on his little finger!
+
+Gervaise touched Coupeau on the shoulder just as he was coming out of
+the little Civet.
+
+“Say, I’m waiting; I’m hungry! I’ve got an empty stomach which is all I
+ever get from you.”
+
+But he silenced her in a capital style, “You’re hungry, eh? Well, eat
+your fist, and keep the other for to-morrow.”
+
+He considered it highly improper to do the dramatic in other people’s
+presence. What, he hadn’t worked, and yet the bakers kneaded bread all
+the same. Did she take him for a fool, to come and try to frighten him
+with her stories?
+
+“Do you want me to turn thief?” she muttered, in a dull voice.
+
+My-Boots stroked his chin in conciliatory fashion. “No, that’s
+forbidden,” said he. “But when a woman knows how to handle herself—”
+
+And Coupeau interrupted him to call out “Bravo!” Yes, a woman always
+ought to know how to handle herself, but his wife had always been a
+helpless thing. It would be her fault if they died on the straw. Then
+he relapsed into his admiration for My-Boots. How awfully fine he
+looked! A regular landlord; with clean linen and swell shoes! They were
+no common stuff! His wife, at all events, knew how to keep the pot
+boiling!
+
+The two men walked towards the outer Boulevard, and Gervaise followed
+them. After a pause, she resumed, talking behind Coupeau’s back: “I’m
+hungry; you know, I relied on you. You must find me something to
+nibble.”
+
+He did not answer, and she repeated, in a tone of despairing agony: “Is
+that all I get from you?”
+
+“_Mon Dieu!_ I’ve no coin,” he roared, turning round in a fury. “Just
+leave me alone, eh? Or else I’ll hit you.”
+
+He was already raising his fist. She drew back, and seemed to make up
+her mind. “All right, I’ll leave you. I guess I can find a man.”
+
+The zinc-worker laughed at this. He pretended to make a joke of the
+matter, and strengthened her purpose without seeming to do so. That was
+a fine idea of hers, and no mistake! In the evening, by gaslight, she
+might still hook a man. He recommended her to try the Capuchin
+restaurant where one could dine very pleasantly in a small private
+room. And, as she went off along the Boulevard, looking pale and
+furious he called out to her: “Listen, bring me back some dessert. I
+like cakes! And if your gentleman is well dressed, ask him for an old
+overcoat. I could use one.”
+
+With these words ringing in her ears, Gervaise walked softly away. But
+when she found herself alone in the midst of the crowd, she slackened
+her pace. She was quite resolute. Between thieving and the other, well
+she preferred the other; for at all events she wouldn’t harm any one.
+No doubt it wasn’t proper. But what was proper and what was improper
+was sorely muddled together in her brain. When you are dying of hunger,
+you don’t philosophize, you eat whatever bread turns up. She had gone
+along as far as the Chaussee-Clignancourt. It seemed as if the night
+would never come. However, she followed the Boulevards like a lady who
+is taking a stroll before dinner. The neighborhood in which she felt so
+ashamed, so greatly was it being embellished, was now full of fresh
+air.
+
+Lost in the crowd on the broad footway, walking past the little plane
+trees, Gervaise felt alone and abandoned. The vistas of the avenues
+seemed to empty her stomach all the more. And to think that among this
+flood of people there were many in easy circumstances, and yet not a
+Christian who could guess her position, and slip a ten sous piece into
+her hand! Yes, it was too great and too beautiful; her head swam and
+her legs tottered under this broad expanse of grey sky stretched over
+so vast a space. The twilight had the dirty-yellowish tinge of Parisian
+evenings, a tint that gives you a longing to die at once, so ugly does
+street life seem. The horizon was growing indistinct, assuming a
+mud-colored tinge as it were. Gervaise, who was already weary, met all
+the workpeople returning home. At this hour of the day the ladies in
+bonnets and the well-dressed gentlemen living in the new houses mingled
+with the people, with the files of men and women still pale from
+inhaling the tainted atmosphere of workshops and workrooms. From the
+Boulevard Magenta and the Rue du Faubourg-Poissonniere, came bands of
+people, rendered breathless by their uphill walk. As the omnivans and
+the cabs rolled by less noiselessly among the vans and trucks returning
+home empty at a gallop, an ever-increasing swarm of blouses and blue
+vests covered the pavement. Commissionaires returned with their
+crotchets on their backs. Two workmen took long strides side by side,
+talking to each other in loud voices, with any amount of gesticulation,
+but without looking at one another; others who were alone in overcoats
+and caps walked along the curbstones with lowered noses; others again
+came in parties of five or six, following each other, with pale eyes
+and their hands in their pockets and not exchanging a word. Some still
+had their pipes, which had gone out between their teeth. Four masons
+poked their white faces out of the windows of a cab which they had
+hired between them, and on the roof of which their mortar-troughs
+rocked to and fro. House-painters were swinging their pots; a
+zinc-worker was returning laden with a long ladder, with which he
+almost poked people’s eyes out; whilst a belated plumber, with his box
+on his back, played the tune of “The Good King Dagobert” on his little
+trumpet. Ah! the sad music, a fitting accompaniment to the tread of the
+flock, the tread of the weary beasts of burden.
+
+Suddenly on raising her eyes she noticed the old Hotel Boncoeur in
+front of her. After being an all-night cafe, which the police had
+closed down, the little house was now abandoned; the shutters were
+covered with posters, the lantern was broken, and the whole building
+was rotting and crumbling away from top to bottom, with its smudgy
+claret-colored paint, quite moldy. The stationer’s and the
+tobacconist’s were still there. In the rear, over some low buildings,
+you could see the leprous facades of several five-storied houses
+rearing their tumble-down outlines against the sky. The “Grand Balcony”
+dancing hall no longer existed; some sugar-cutting works, which hissed
+continually, had been installed in the hall with the ten flaming
+windows. And yet it was here, in this dirty den—the Hotel Boncoeur—that
+the whole cursed life had commenced. Gervaise remained looking at the
+window of the first floor, from which hung a broken shutter, and
+recalled to mind her youth with Lantier, their first rows and the
+ignoble way in which he had abandoned her. Never mind, she was young
+then, and it all seemed gay to her, seen from a distance. Only twenty
+years. _Mon Dieu!_ and yet she had fallen to street-walking. Then the
+sight of the lodging house oppressed her and she walked up the
+Boulevard in the direction of Montmartre.
+
+The night was gathering, but children were still playing on the heaps
+of sand between the benches. The march past continued, the workgirls
+went by, trotting along and hurrying to make up for the time they had
+lost in looking in at the shop windows; one tall girl, who had stopped,
+left her hand in that of a big fellow, who accompanied her to within
+three doors of her home; others as they parted from each other, made
+appointments for the night at the “Great Hall of Folly” or the “Black
+Ball.” In the midst of the groups, piece-workmen went by, carrying
+their clothes folded under their arms. A chimney sweep, harnessed with
+leather braces, was drawing a cart along, and nearly got himself
+crushed by an omnibus. Among the crowd which was now growing scantier,
+there were several women running with bare heads; after lighting the
+fire, they had come downstairs again and were hastily making their
+purchases for dinner; they jostled the people they met, darted into the
+bakers’ and the pork butchers’, and went off again with all despatch,
+their provisions in their hands. There were little girls of eight years
+old, who had been sent out on errands, and who went along past the
+shops, pressing long loaves of four pounds’ weight, as tall as they
+were themselves, against their chests, as if these loaves had been
+beautiful yellow dolls; at times these little ones forgot themselves
+for five minutes or so, in front of some pictures in a shop window, and
+rested their cheeks against the bread. Then the flow subsided, the
+groups became fewer and farther between, the working classes had gone
+home; and as the gas blazed now that the day’s toil was over, idleness
+and amusement seemed to wake up.
+
+Ah! yes; Gervaise had finished her day! She was wearier even than all
+this mob of toilers who had jostled her as they went by. She might lie
+down there and croak, for work would have nothing more to do with her,
+and she had toiled enough during her life to say: “Whose turn now? I’ve
+had enough.” At present everyone was eating. It was really the end, the
+sun had blown out its candle, the night would be a long one. _Mon
+Dieu!_ To stretch one’s self at one’s ease and never get up again; to
+think one had put one’s tools by for good and that one could ruminate
+like a cow forever! That’s what is good, after tiring one’s self out
+for twenty years! And Gervaise, as hunger twisted her stomach, thought
+in spite of herself of the fete days, the spreads and the revelry of
+her life. Of one occasion especially, an awfully cold day, a mid-Lent
+Thursday. She had enjoyed herself wonderfully well. She was very
+pretty, fair-haired and fresh looking at that time. Her wash-house in
+the Rue Neuve had chosen her as queen in spite of her leg. And then
+they had had an outing on the boulevards in carts decked with greenery,
+in the midst of stylish people who ogled her. Real gentlemen put up
+their glasses as if she had been a true queen. In the evening there was
+a wonderful spread, and then they had danced till daylight. Queen; yes
+Queen! With a crown and a sash for twenty-four hours—twice round the
+clock! And now oppressed by hunger, she looked on the ground, as if she
+were seeking for the gutter in which she had let her fallen majesty
+tumble.
+
+She raised her eyes again. She was in front of the slaughter-houses
+which were being pulled down; through the gaps in the facade one could
+see the dark, stinking courtyards, still damp with blood. And when she
+had gone down the Boulevard again, she also saw the Lariboisiere
+Hospital, with its long grey wall, above which she could distinguish
+the mournful, fan-like wings, pierced with windows at even distances. A
+door in the wall filled the neighborhood with dread; it was the door of
+the dead in solid oak, and without a crack, as stern and as silent as a
+tombstone. Then to escape her thoughts, she hurried further down till
+she reached the railway bridge. The high parapets of riveted sheet-iron
+hid the line from view; she could only distinguish a corner of the
+station standing out against the luminous horizon of Paris, with a vast
+roof black with coal-dust. Through the clear space she could hear the
+engines whistling and the cars being shunted, in token of colossal
+hidden activity. Then a train passed by, leaving Paris, with puffing
+breath and a growing rumble. And all she perceived of this train was a
+white plume, a sudden gust of steam which rose above the parapet and
+then evaporated. But the bridge had shaken, and she herself seemed
+impressed by this departure at full speed. She turned round as if to
+follow the invisible engine, the noise of which was dying away.
+
+She caught a glimpse of open country through a gap between tall
+buildings. Oh, if only she could have taken a train and gone away, far
+away from this poverty and suffering. She might have started an
+entirely new life! Then she turned to look at the posters on the bridge
+sidings. One was on pretty blue paper and offered a fifty-franc reward
+for a lost dog. Someone must have really loved that dog!
+
+Gervaise slowly resumed her walk. In the smoky fog which was falling,
+the gas lamps were being lighted up; and the long avenues, which had
+grown bleak and indistinct, suddenly showed themselves plainly again,
+sparkling to their full length and piercing through the night, even to
+the vague darkness of the horizon. A great gust swept by; the widened
+spaces were lighted up with girdles of little flames, shining under the
+far-stretching moonless sky. It was the hour when, from one end of the
+Boulevard to the other, the dram-shops and the dancing-halls flamed
+gayly as the first glasses were merrily drunk and the first dance
+began. It was the great fortnightly pay-day, and the pavement was
+crowded with jostling revelers on the spree. There was a breath of
+merrymaking in the air—deuced fine revelry, but not objectionable so
+far. Fellows were filling themselves in the eating-houses; through the
+lighted windows you could see people feeding, with their mouths full
+and laughing without taking the trouble to swallow first. Drunkards
+were already installed in the wineshops, squabbling and gesticulating.
+And there was a cursed noise on all sides, voices shouting amid the
+constant clatter of feet on the pavement.
+
+“Say, are you coming to sip?” “Make haste, old man; I’ll pay for a
+glass of bottled wine.” “Here’s Pauline! Shan’t we just laugh!” The
+doors swung to and fro, letting a smell of wine and a sound of cornet
+playing escape into the open air. There was a gathering in front of
+Pere Colombe’s l’Assommoir, which was lighted up like a cathedral for
+high mass. _Mon Dieu!_ you would have said a real ceremony was going
+on, for several capital fellows, with rounded paunches and swollen
+cheeks, looking for all the world like professional choristers, were
+singing inside. They were celebrating Saint-Pay, of course—a very
+amiable saint, who no doubt keeps the cash box in Paradise. Only, on
+seeing how gaily the evening began, the retired petty tradesmen who had
+taken their wives out for a stroll wagged their heads, and repeated
+that there would be any number of drunken men in Paris that night. And
+the night stretched very dark, dead-like and icy, above this revelry,
+perforated only with lines of gas lamps extending to the four corners
+of heaven.
+
+Gervaise stood in front of l’Assommoir, thinking that if she had had a
+couple of sous she could have gone inside and drunk a dram. No doubt a
+dram would have quieted her hunger. Ah! what a number of drams she had
+drunk in her time! Liquor seemed good stuff to her after all. And from
+outside she watched the drunk-making machine, realizing that her
+misfortune was due to it, and yet dreaming of finishing herself off
+with brandy on the day she had some coin. But a shudder passed through
+her hair as she saw it was now almost dark. Well, the night time was
+approaching. She must have some pluck and sell herself coaxingly if she
+didn’t wish to kick the bucket in the midst of the general revelry.
+Looking at other people gorging themselves didn’t precisely fill her
+own stomach. She slackened her pace again and looked around her. There
+was a darker shade under the trees. Few people passed along, only folks
+in a hurry, who swiftly crossed the Boulevards. And on the broad, dark,
+deserted footway, where the sound of the revelry died away, women were
+standing and waiting. They remained for long intervals motionless,
+patient and as stiff-looking as the scrubby little plane trees; then
+they slowly began to move, dragging their slippers over the frozen
+soil, taking ten steps or so and then waiting again, rooted as it were
+to the ground. There was one of them with a huge body and insect-like
+arms and legs, wearing a black silk rag, with a yellow scarf over her
+head; there was another one, tall and bony, who was bareheaded and wore
+a servant’s apron; and others, too—old ones plastered up and young ones
+so dirty that a ragpicker would not have picked them up. However,
+Gervaise tried to learn what to do by imitating them; girlish-like
+emotion tightened her throat; she was hardly aware whether she felt
+ashamed or not; she seemed to be living in a horrible dream. For a
+quarter of an hour she remained standing erect. Men hurried by without
+even turning their heads. Then she moved about in her turn, and
+venturing to accost a man who was whistling with his hands in his
+pockets, she murmured, in a strangled voice:
+
+“Sir, listen a moment—”
+
+The man gave her a side glance and then went off, whistling all the
+louder.
+
+Gervaise grew bolder, and, with her stomach empty, she became absorbed
+in this chase, fiercely rushing after her dinner, which was still
+running away. She walked about for a long while, without thinking of
+the flight of time or of the direction she took. Around her the dark,
+mute women went to and fro under the trees like wild beasts in a cage.
+They stepped out of the shade like apparitions, and passed under the
+light of a gas lamp with their pale masks fully apparent; then they
+grew vague again as they went off into the darkness, with a white strip
+of petticoat swinging to and fro. Men let themselves be stopped at
+times, talked jokingly, and then started off again laughing. Others
+would quietly follow a woman to her room, discreetly, ten paces behind.
+There was a deal of muttering, quarreling in an undertone and furious
+bargaining, which suddenly subsided into profound silence. And as far
+as Gervaise went she saw these women standing like sentinels in the
+night. They seemed to be placed along the whole length of the
+Boulevard. As soon as she met one she saw another twenty paces further
+on, and the file stretched out unceasingly. Entire Paris was guarded.
+She grew enraged on finding herself disdained, and changing her place,
+she now perambulated between the Chaussee de Clignancourt and the Grand
+Rue of La Chapelle. All were beggars.
+
+“Sir, just listen.”
+
+But the men passed by. She started from the slaughter-houses, which
+stank of blood. She glanced on her way at the old Hotel Boncoeur, now
+closed. She passed in front of the Lariboisiere Hospital, and
+mechanically counted the number of windows that were illuminated with a
+pale quiet glimmer, like that of night-lights at the bedside of some
+agonizing sufferers. She crossed the railway bridge as the trains
+rushed by with a noisy rumble, rending the air in twain with their
+shrill whistling! Ah! how sad everything seemed at night-time! Then she
+turned on her heels again and filled her eyes with the sight of the
+same houses, doing this ten and twenty times without pausing, without
+resting for a minute on a bench. No; no one wanted her. Her shame
+seemed to be increased by this contempt. She went down towards the
+hospital again, and then returned towards the slaughter-houses. It was
+her last promenade—from the blood-stained courtyards, where animals
+were slaughtered, down to the pale hospital wards, where death
+stiffened the patients stretched between the sheets. It was between
+these two establishments that she had passed her life.
+
+“Sir, just listen.”
+
+But suddenly she perceived her shadow on the ground. When she
+approached a gas-lamp it gradually became less vague, till it stood out
+at last in full force—an enormous shadow it was, positively grotesque,
+so portly had she become. Her stomach, breast and hips, all equally
+flabby jostled together as it were. She walked with such a limp that
+the shadow bobbed almost topsy-turvy at every step she took; it looked
+like a real Punch! Then as she left the street lamp behind her, the
+Punch grew taller, becoming in fact gigantic, filling the whole
+Boulevard, bobbing to and fro in such style that it seemed fated to
+smash its nose against the trees or the houses. _Mon Dieu!_ how
+frightful she was! She had never realised her disfigurement so
+thoroughly. And she could not help looking at her shadow; indeed, she
+waited for the gas-lamps, still watching the Punch as it bobbed about.
+Ah! she had a pretty companion beside her! What a figure! It ought to
+attract the men at once! And at the thought of her unsightliness, she
+lowered her voice, and only just dared to stammer behind the
+passers-by:
+
+“Sir, just listen.”
+
+It was now getting quite late. Matters were growing bad in the
+neighborhood. The eating-houses had closed and voices, gruff with
+drink, could be heard disputing in the wineshops. Revelry was turning
+to quarreling and fisticuffs. A big ragged chap roared out, “I’ll knock
+yer to bits; just count yer bones.” A large woman had quarreled with a
+fellow outside a dancing place, and was calling him “dirty blackguard”
+and “lousy bum,” whilst he on his side just muttered under his breath.
+Drink seemed to have imparted a fierce desire to indulge in blows, and
+the passers-by, who were now less numerous, had pale contracted faces.
+There was a battle at last; one drunken fellow came down on his back
+with all four limbs raised in the air, whilst his comrade, thinking he
+had done for him, ran off with his heavy shoes clattering over the
+pavement. Groups of men sang dirty songs and then there would be long
+silences broken only by hiccoughs or the thud of a drunk falling down.
+
+Gervaise still hobbled about, going up and down, with the idea of
+walking forever. At times, she felt drowsy and almost went to sleep,
+rocked, as it were, by her lame leg; then she looked round her with a
+start, and noticed she had walked a hundred yards unconsciously. Her
+feet were swelling in her ragged shoes. The last clear thought that
+occupied her mind was that her hussy of a daughter was perhaps eating
+oysters at that very moment. Then everything became cloudy; and,
+albeit, she remained with open eyes, it required too great an effort
+for her to think. The only sensation that remained to her, in her utter
+annihilation, was that it was frightfully cold, so sharply, mortally
+cold, she had never known the like before. Why, even dead people could
+not feel so cold in their graves. With an effort she raised her head,
+and something seemed to lash her face. It was the snow, which had at
+last decided to fall from the smoky sky—fine thick snow, which the
+breeze swept round and round. For three days it had been expected and
+what a splendid moment it chose to appear.
+
+Woken up by the first gusts, Gervaise began to walk faster. Eager to
+get home, men were running along, with their shoulders already white.
+And as she suddenly saw one who, on the contrary, was coming slowly
+towards her under the trees, she approached him and again said: “Sir,
+just listen—”
+
+The man has stopped. But he did not seem to have heard her. He held out
+his hand, and muttered in a low voice: “Charity, if you please!”
+
+They looked at one another. Ah! _Mon Dieu!_ They were reduced to
+this—Pere Bru begging, Madame Coupeau walking the streets! They
+remained stupefied in front of each other. They could join hands as
+equals now. The old workman had prowled about the whole evening, not
+daring to stop anyone, and the first person he accosted was as hungry
+as himself. Lord, was it not pitiful! To have toiled for fifty years
+and be obliged to beg! To have been one of the most prosperous
+laundresses in the Rue de la Goutte-d’Or and to end beside the gutter!
+They still looked at one another. Then, without saying a word, they
+went off in different directions under the lashing snow.
+
+It was a perfect tempest. On these heights, in the midst of this open
+space, the fine snow revolved round and round as if the wind came from
+the four corners of heaven. You could not see ten paces off, everything
+was confused in the midst of this flying dust. The surroundings had
+disappeared, the Boulevard seemed to be dead, as if the storm had
+stretched the silence of its white sheet over the hiccoughs of the last
+drunkards. Gervaise still went on, blinded, lost. She felt her way by
+touching the trees. As she advanced the gas-lamps shone out amidst the
+whiteness like torches. Then, suddenly, whenever she crossed an open
+space, these lights failed her; she was enveloped in the whirling snow,
+unable to distinguish anything to guide her. Below stretched the
+ground, vaguely white; grey walls surrounded her, and when she paused,
+hesitating and turning her head, she divined that behind this icy veil
+extended the immense avenue with interminable vistas of gas-lamps—the
+black and deserted Infinite of Paris asleep.
+
+She was standing where the outer Boulevard meets the Boulevards Magenta
+and Ornano, thinking of lying down on the ground, when suddenly she
+heard a footfall. She began to run, but the snow blinded her, and the
+footsteps went off without her being able to tell whether it was to the
+right or to the left. At last, however, she perceived a man’s broad
+shoulders, a dark form which was disappearing amid the snow. Oh! she
+wouldn’t let this man get away. And she ran on all the faster, reached
+him, and caught him by the blouse: “Sir, sir, just listen.”
+
+The man turned round. It was Goujet.
+
+So now she had accosted Golden-Beard. But what had she done on earth to
+be tortured like this by Providence? It was the crowning blow—to
+stumble against Goujet, and be seen by her blacksmith friend, pale and
+begging, like a common street walker. And it happened just under a
+gas-lamp; she could see her deformed shadow swaying on the snow like a
+real caricature. You would have said she was drunk. _Mon Dieu!_ not to
+have a crust of bread, or a drop of wine in her body, and to be taken
+for a drunken women! It was her own fault, why did she booze? Goujet no
+doubt thought she had been drinking, and that she was up to some nasty
+pranks.
+
+He looked at her while the snow scattered daisies over his beautiful
+yellow beard. Then as she lowered her head and stepped back he detained
+her.
+
+“Come,” said he.
+
+And he walked on first. She followed him. They both crossed the silent
+district, gliding noiselessly along the walls. Poor Madame Goujet had
+died of rheumatism in the month of October. Goujet still resided in the
+little house in the Rue Neuve, living gloomily alone. On this occasion
+he was belated because he had sat up nursing a wounded comrade. When he
+had opened the door and lighted a lamp, he turned towards Gervaise, who
+had remained humbly on the threshold. Then, in a low voice, as if he
+were afraid his mother could still hear him, he exclaimed, “Come in.”
+
+The first room, Madame Goujet’s, was piously preserved in the state she
+had left it. On a chair near the window lay the tambour by the side of
+the large arm-chair, which seemed to be waiting for the old
+lace-worker. The bed was made, and she could have stretched herself
+beneath the sheets if she had left the cemetery to come and spend the
+evening with her child. There was something solemn, a perfume of
+honesty and goodness about the room.
+
+“Come in,” repeated the blacksmith in a louder tone.
+
+She went in, half frightened, like a disreputable woman gliding into a
+respectable place. He was quite pale, and trembled at the thought of
+ushering a woman like this into his dead mother’s home. They crossed
+the room on tip-toe, as if they were ashamed to be heard. Then when he
+had pushed Gervaise into his own room he closed the door. Here he was
+at home. It was the narrow closet she was acquainted with; a
+schoolgirl’s room, with the little iron bedstead hung with white
+curtains. On the walls the engravings cut out of illustrated newspapers
+had gathered and spread, and they now reached to the ceiling. The room
+looked so pure that Gervaise did not dare to advance, but retreated as
+far as she could from the lamp. Then without a word, in a transport as
+it were, he tried to seize hold of her and press her in his arms. But
+she felt faint and murmured: “Oh! _Mon Dieu!_ Oh, _mon Dieu!_”
+
+The fire in the stove, having been covered with coke-dust, was still
+alight, and the remains of a stew which Goujet had put to warm,
+thinking he should return to dinner, was smoking in front of the
+cinders. Gervaise, who felt her numbness leave her in the warmth of
+this room, would have gone down on all fours to eat out of the
+saucepan. Her hunger was stronger than her will; her stomach seemed
+rent in two; and she stooped down with a sigh. Goujet had realized the
+truth. He placed the stew on the table, cut some bread, and poured her
+out a glass of wine.
+
+“Thank you! Thank you!” said she. “Oh, how kind you are! Thank you!”
+
+She stammered; she could hardly articulate. When she caught hold of her
+fork she began to tremble so acutely that she let it fall again. The
+hunger that possessed her made her wag her head as if senile. She
+carried the food to her mouth with her fingers. As she stuffed the
+first potato into her mouth, she burst out sobbing. Big tears coursed
+down her cheeks and fell onto her bread. She still ate, gluttonously
+devouring this bread thus moistened by her tears, and breathing very
+hard all the while. Goujet compelled her to drink to prevent her from
+stifling, and her glass chinked, as it were, against her teeth.
+
+“Will you have some more bread?” he asked in an undertone.
+
+She cried, she said “no,” she said “yes,” she didn’t know. Ah! how nice
+and yet how painful it is to eat when one is starving.
+
+And standing in front of her, Goujet looked at her all the while; under
+the bright light cast by the lamp-shade he could see her well. How aged
+and altered she seemed! The heat was melting the snow on her hair and
+clothes, and she was dripping. Her poor wagging head was quite grey;
+there were any number of grey locks which the wind had disarranged. Her
+neck sank into her shoulders and she had become so fat and ugly you
+might have cried on noticing the change. He recollected their love,
+when she was quite rosy, working with her irons, and showing the
+child-like crease which set such a charming necklace round her throat.
+In those times he had watched her for hours, glad just to look at her.
+Later on she had come to the forge, and there they had enjoyed
+themselves whilst he beat the iron, and she stood by watching his
+hammer dance. How often at night, with his head buried in his pillow,
+had he dreamed of holding her in his arms.
+
+Gervaise rose; she had finished. She remained for a moment with her
+head lowered, and ill at ease. Then, thinking she detected a gleam in
+his eyes, she raised her hand to her jacket and began to unfasten the
+first button. But Goujet had fallen on his knees, and taking hold of
+her hands, he exclaimed softly:
+
+“I love you, Madame Gervaise; oh! I love you still, and in spite of
+everything, I swear it to you!”
+
+“Don’t say that, Monsieur Goujet!” she cried, maddened to see him like
+this at her feet. “No, don’t say that; you grieve me too much.”
+
+And as he repeated that he could never love twice in his life, she
+became yet more despairing.
+
+“No, no, I am too ashamed. For the love of God get up. It is my place
+to be on the ground.”
+
+He rose, he trembled all over and stammered: “Will you allow me to kiss
+you?”
+
+Overcome with surprise and emotion she could not speak, but she
+assented with a nod of the head. After all she was his; he could do
+what he chose with her. But he merely kissed her.
+
+“That suffices between us, Madame Gervaise,” he muttered. “It sums up
+all our friendship, does it not?”
+
+He had kissed her on the forehead, on a lock of her grey hair. He had
+not kissed anyone since his mother’s death. His sweetheart Gervaise
+alone remained to him in life. And then, when he had kissed her with so
+much respect, he fell back across his bed with sobs rising in his
+throat. And Gervaise could not remain there any longer. It was too sad
+and too abominable to meet again under such circumstances when one
+loved. “I love you, Monsieur Goujet,” she exclaimed. “I love you
+dearly, also. Oh! it isn’t possible you still love me. Good-bye,
+good-bye; it would smother us both; it would be more than we could
+stand.”
+
+And she darted through Madame Goujet’s room and found herself outside
+on the pavement again. When she recovered her senses she had rung at
+the door in the Rue de la Goutte-d’Or and Boche was pulling the string.
+The house was quite dark, and in the black night the yawning,
+dilapidated porch looked like an open mouth. To think that she had been
+ambitious of having a corner in this barracks! Had her ears been
+stopped up then, that she had not heard the cursed music of despair
+which sounded behind the walls? Since she had set foot in the place she
+had begun to go down hill. Yes, it must bring bad luck to shut oneself
+up in these big workmen’s houses; the cholera of misery was contagious
+there. That night everyone seemed to have kicked the bucket. She only
+heard the Boches snoring on the right-hand side, while Lantier and
+Virginie on the left were purring like a couple of cats who were not
+asleep, but have their eyes closed and feel warm. In the courtyard she
+fancied she was in a perfect cemetery; the snow paved the ground with
+white; the high frontages, livid grey in tint, rose up unlighted like
+ruined walls, and not a sigh could be heard. It seemed as if a whole
+village, stiffened with cold and hunger, were buried here. She had to
+step over a black gutter—water from the dye-works—which smoked and
+streaked the whiteness of the snow with its muddy course. It was the
+color of her thoughts. The beautiful light blue and light pink waters
+had long since flowed away.
+
+Then, whilst ascending the six flights of stairs in the dark, she could
+not prevent herself from laughing; an ugly laugh which hurt her. She
+recalled her ideal of former days: to work quietly, always have bread
+to eat and a tidy house to sleep in, to bring up her children, not to
+be beaten and to die in her bed. No, really, it was comical how all
+that was becoming realized! She no longer worked, she no longer ate,
+she slept on filth, her husband frequented all sorts of wineshops, and
+her husband drubbed her at all hours of the day; all that was left for
+her to do was to die on the pavement, and it would not take long if on
+getting into her room, she could only pluck up courage to fling herself
+out of the window. Was it not enough to make one think that she had
+hoped to earn thirty thousand francs a year, and no end of respect? Ah!
+really, in this life it is no use being modest; one only gets sat upon.
+Not even pap and a nest, that is the common lot.
+
+What increased her ugly laugh was the recollection of her grand hope of
+retiring into the country after twenty years passed in ironing. Well!
+she was on her way to the country. She was going to have her green
+corner in the Pere-Lachaise cemetery.
+
+When she entered the passage she was like a mad-woman. Her poor head
+was whirling round. At heart her great grief was at having bid the
+blacksmith an eternal farewell. All was ended between them; they would
+never see each other more. Then, besides that, all her other thoughts
+of misfortune pressed upon her, and almost caused her head to split. As
+she passed she poked her nose in at the Bijards’ and beheld Lalie dead,
+with a look of contentment on her face at having at last been laid out
+and slumbering forever. Ah, well! children were luckier than grown-up
+people. And, as a glimmer of light passed under old Bazouge’s door, she
+walked boldly in, seized with a mania for going off on the same journey
+as the little one.
+
+That old joker, Bazouge, had come home that night in an extraordinary
+state of gaiety. He had had such a booze that he was snoring on the
+ground in spite of the temperature, and that no doubt did not prevent
+him from dreaming something pleasant, for he seemed to be laughing from
+his stomach as he slept. The candle, which he had not put out, lighted
+up his old garments, his black cloak, which he had drawn over his knees
+as though it had been a blanket.
+
+On beholding him Gervaise uttered such a deep wailing that he awoke.
+
+“_Mon Dieu!_ shut the door! It’s so cold! Ah! it’s you! What’s the
+matter? What do you want?”
+
+Then, Gervaise, stretching out her arms, no longer knowing what she
+stuttered, began passionately to implore him:
+
+“Oh! take me away! I’ve had enough; I want to go off. You mustn’t bear
+me any grudge. I didn’t know. One never knows until one’s ready. Oh,
+yes; one’s glad to go one day! Take me away! Take me away and I shall
+thank you!”
+
+She fell on her knees, all shaken with a desire which caused her to
+turn ghastly pale. Never before had she thus dragged herself at a man’s
+feet. Old Bazouge’s ugly mug, with his mouth all on one side and his
+hide begrimed with the dust of funerals, seemed to her as beautiful and
+resplendent as a sun. The old fellow, who was scarcely awake thought,
+however, that it was some sort of bad joke.
+
+“Look here,” murmured he, “no jokes!”
+
+“Take me away,” repeated Gervaise more ardently still. “You remember, I
+knocked one evening against the partition; then I said that it wasn’t
+true, because I was still a fool. But see! Give me your hands. I’m no
+longer frightened. Take me away to by-by; you’ll see how still I’ll be.
+Oh! sleep, that’s all I care for. Oh! I’ll love you so much!”
+
+Bazouge, ever gallant, thought that he ought not to be hasty with a
+lady who appeared to have taken such a fancy to him. She was falling to
+pieces, but all the same, what remained was very fine, especially when
+she was excited.
+
+“What you say is very true,” said he in a convinced manner. “I packed
+up three more to-day who would only have been too glad to have given me
+something for myself, could they but have got their hands to their
+pockets. But, little woman, it’s not so easily settled as all that—”
+
+“Take me away, take me away,” continued Gervaise, “I want to die.”
+
+“Ah! but there’s a little operation to be gone through beforehand—you
+know, glug!”
+
+And he made a noise in his throat, as though swallowing his tongue.
+Then, thinking it a good joke, he chuckled.
+
+Gervaise slowly rose to her feet. So he too could do nothing for her.
+She went to her room and threw herself on her straw, feeling stupid,
+and regretting she had eaten. Ah! no indeed, misery did not kill
+quickly enough.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XIII
+
+
+That night Coupeau went on a spree. Next day, Gervaise received ten
+francs from her son Etienne, who was a mechanic on some railway. The
+youngster sent her a few francs from time to time, knowing that they
+were not very well off at home. She made some soup, and ate it all
+alone, for that scoundrel Coupeau did not return on the morrow. On
+Monday he was still absent, and on Tuesday also. The whole week went
+by. Ah, it would be good luck if some woman took him in.
+
+On Sunday Gervaise received a printed document. It was to inform her
+that her husband was dying at the Sainte-Anne asylum.
+
+Gervaise did not disturb herself. He knew the way; he could very well
+get home from the asylum by himself. They had cured him there so often
+that they could once more do him the sorry service of putting him on
+his pins again. Had she not heard that very morning that for the week
+before Coupeau had been seen as round as a ball, rolling about
+Belleville from one dram shop to another in the company of My-Boots.
+Exactly so; and it was My-Boots, too, who stood treat. He must have
+hooked his missus’s stocking with all the savings gained at very hard
+work. It wasn’t clean money they had used, but money that could infect
+them with any manner of vile diseases. Well, anyway, they hadn’t
+thought to invite her for a drink. If you wanted to drink by yourself,
+you could croak by yourself.
+
+However, on Monday, as Gervaise had a nice little meal planned for the
+evening, the remains of some beans and a pint of wine, she pretended to
+herself that a walk would give her an appetite. The letter from the
+asylum which she had left lying on the bureau bothered her. The snow
+had melted, the day was mild and grey and on the whole fine, with just
+a slight keenness in the air which was invigorating. She started at
+noon, for her walk was a long one. She had to cross Paris and her bad
+leg always slowed her. With that the streets were crowded; but the
+people amused her; she reached her destination very pleasantly. When
+she had given her name, she was told a most astounding story to the
+effect that Coupeau had been fished out of the Seine close to the
+Pont-Neuf. He had jumped over the parapet, under the impression that a
+bearded man was barring his way. A fine jump, was it not? And as for
+finding out how Coupeau got to be on the Pont-Neuf, that was a matter
+he could not even explain himself.
+
+One of the keepers escorted Gervaise. She was ascending a staircase,
+when she heard howlings which made her shiver to her very bones.
+
+“He’s playing a nice music, isn’t he?” observed the keeper.
+
+“Who is?” asked she.
+
+“Why, your old man! He’s been yelling like that ever since the day
+before yesterday; and he dances, you’ll just see.”
+
+_Mon Dieu!_ what a sight! She stood as one transfixed. The cell was
+padded from the floor to the ceiling. On the floor there were two straw
+mats, one piled on top of the other; and in a corner were spread a
+mattress and a bolster, nothing more. Inside there Coupeau was dancing
+and yelling, his blouse in tatters and his limbs beating the air. He
+wore the mask of one about to die. What a breakdown! He bumped up
+against the window, then retired backwards, beating time with his arms
+and shaking his hands as though he were trying to wrench them off and
+fling them in somebody’s face. One meets with buffoons in low dancing
+places who imitate the delirium tremens, only they imitate it badly.
+One must see this drunkard’s dance if one wishes to know what it is
+like when gone through in earnest. The song also has its merits, a
+continuous yell worthy of carnival-time, a mouth wide open uttering the
+same hoarse trombone notes for hours together. Coupeau had the howl of
+a beast with a crushed paw. Strike up, music! Gentlemen, choose your
+partners!
+
+“_Mon Dieu!_ what is the matter with him? What is the matter with him?”
+repeated Gervaise, seized with fear.
+
+A house surgeon, a big fair fellow with a rosy countenance, and wearing
+a white apron, was quietly sitting taking notes. The case was a curious
+one; the doctor did not leave the patient.
+
+“Stay a while if you like,” said he to the laundress; “but keep quiet.
+Try and speak to him, he will not recognise you.”
+
+Coupeau indeed did not even appear to see his wife. She had only had a
+bad view of him on entering, he was wriggling about so much. When she
+looked him full in the face, she stood aghast. _Mon Dieu!_ was it
+possible he had a countenance like that, his eyes full of blood and his
+lips covered with scabs? She would certainly never have known him. To
+begin with, he was making too many grimaces, without saying why, his
+mouth suddenly out of all shape, his nose curled up, his cheeks drawn
+in, a perfect animal’s muzzle. His skin was so hot the air steamed
+around him; and his hide was as though varnished, covered with a heavy
+sweat which trickled off him. In his mad dance, one could see all the
+same that he was not at his ease, his head was heavy and his limbs
+ached.
+
+Gervaise drew near to the house surgeon, who was strumming a tune with
+the tips of his fingers on the back of his chair.
+
+“Tell me, sir, it’s serious then this time?”
+
+The house surgeon nodded his head without answering.
+
+“Isn’t he jabbering to himself? Eh! don’t you hear? What’s it about?
+
+“About things he sees,” murmured the young man. “Keep quiet, let me
+listen.”
+
+Coupeau was speaking in a jerky voice. A glimmer of amusement lit up
+his eyes. He looked on the floor, to the right, to the left, and turned
+about as though he had been strolling in the Bois de Vincennes,
+conversing with himself.
+
+“Ah! that’s nice, that’s grand! There’re cottages, a regular fair. And
+some jolly fine music! What a Balthazar’s feast! They’re smashing the
+crockery in there. Awfully swell! Now it’s being lit up; red balls in
+the air, and it jumps, and it flies! Oh! oh! what a lot of lanterns in
+the trees! It’s confoundedly pleasant! There’s water flowing
+everywhere, fountains, cascades, water which sings, oh! with the voice
+of a chorister. The cascades are grand!”
+
+And he drew himself up, as though the better to hear the delicious song
+of the water; he sucked in forcibly, fancying he was drinking the fresh
+spray blown from the fountains. But, little by little, his face resumed
+an agonized expression. Then he crouched down and flew quicker than
+ever around the walls of the cell, uttering vague threats.
+
+“More traps, all that! I thought as much. Silence, you set of
+swindlers! Yes, you’re making a fool of me. It’s for that that you’re
+drinking and bawling inside there with your viragoes. I’ll demolish
+you, you and your cottage! Damnation! Will you leave me in peace?”
+
+He clinched his fists; then he uttered a hoarse cry, stooping as he
+ran. And he stuttered, his teeth chattering with fright.
+
+“It’s so that I may kill myself. No, I won’t throw myself in! All that
+water means that I’ve no heart. No, I won’t throw myself in!”
+
+The cascades, which fled at his approach, advanced when he retired. And
+all of a sudden, he looked stupidly around him, mumbling, in a voice
+which was scarcely audible:
+
+“It isn’t possible, they set conjurers against me!”
+
+“I’m off, sir. I’ve got to go. Good-night!” said Gervaise to the house
+surgeon. “It upsets me too much; I’ll come again.”
+
+She was quite white. Coupeau was continuing his breakdown from the
+window to the mattress and from the mattress to the window, perspiring,
+toiling, always beating the same rhythm. Then she hurried away. But
+though she scrambled down the stairs, she still heard her husband’s
+confounded jig until she reached the bottom. Ah! _Mon Dieu!_ how
+pleasant it was out of doors, one could breathe there!
+
+That evening everyone in the tenement was discussing Coupeau’s strange
+malady. The Boches invited Gervaise to have a drink with them, even
+though they now considered Clump-clump beneath them, in order to hear
+all the details. Madame Lorilleux and Madame Poisson were there also.
+Boche told of a carpenter he had known who had been a drinker of
+absinthe. The man shed his clothes, went out in the street and danced
+the polka until he died. That rather struck the ladies as comic, even
+though it was very sad.
+
+Gervaise got up in the middle of the room and did an imitation of
+Coupeau. Yes, that’s just how it was. Can anyone feature a man doing
+that for hours on end? If they didn’t believe they could go see for
+themselves.
+
+On getting up the next morning, Gervaise promised herself she would not
+return to the Sainte-Anne again. What use would it be? She did not want
+to go off her head also. However, every ten minutes, she fell to musing
+and became absent-minded. It would be curious though, if he were still
+throwing his legs about. When twelve o’clock struck, she could no
+longer resist; she started off and did not notice how long the walk
+was, her brain was so full of her desire to go and the dread of what
+awaited her.
+
+Oh! there was no need for her to ask for news. She heard Coupeau’s song
+the moment she reached the foot of the staircase. Just the same tune,
+just the same dance. She might have thought herself going up again
+after having only been down for a minute. The attendant of the day
+before, who was carrying some jugs of tisane along the corridor, winked
+his eye as he met her, by way of being amiable.
+
+“Still the same, then?” said she.
+
+“Oh! still the same!” he replied without stopping.
+
+She entered the room, but she remained near the door, because there
+were some people with Coupeau. The fair, rosy house surgeon was
+standing up, having given his chair to a bald old gentleman who was
+decorated and had a pointed face like a weasel. He was no doubt the
+head doctor, for his glance was as sharp and piercing as a gimlet. All
+the dealers in sudden death have a glance like that.
+
+No, really, it was not a pretty sight; and Gervaise, all in a tremble,
+asked herself why she had returned. To think that the evening before
+they accused her at the Boches’ of exaggerating the picture! Now she
+saw better how Coupeau set about it, his eyes wide open looking into
+space, and she would never forget it. She overheard a few words between
+the house surgeon and the head doctor. The former was giving some
+details of the night: her husband had talked and thrown himself about,
+that was what it amounted to. Then the bald-headed old gentleman, who
+was not very polite by the way, at length appeared to become aware of
+her presence; and when the house surgeon had informed him that she was
+the patient’s wife, he began to question her in the harsh manner of a
+commissary of the police.
+
+“Did this man’s father drink?”
+
+“Yes, sir; just a little like everyone. He killed himself by falling
+from a roof one day when he was tipsy.”
+
+“Did his mother drink?”
+
+“Well! sir, like everyone else, you know; a drop here, a drop there.
+Oh! the family is very respectable! There was a brother who died very
+young in convulsions.”
+
+The doctor looked at her with his piercing eye. He resumed in his rough
+voice:
+
+“And you, you drink too, don’t you?”
+
+Gervaise stammered, protested, and placed her hand upon her heart, as
+though to take her solemn oath.
+
+“You drink! Take care; see where drink leads to. One day or other you
+will die thus.”
+
+Then she remained close to the wall. The doctor had turned his back to
+her. He squatted down, without troubling himself as to whether his
+overcoat trailed in the dust of the matting; for a long while he
+studied Coupeau’s trembling, waiting for its reappearance, following it
+with his glance. That day the legs were going in their turn, the
+trembling had descended from the hands to the feet; a regular puppet
+with his strings being pulled, throwing his limbs about, whilst the
+trunk of his body remained as stiff as a piece of wood. The disease
+progressed little by little. It was like a musical box beneath the
+skin; it started off every three or four seconds and rolled along for
+an instant; then it stopped and then it started off again, just the
+same as the little shiver which shakes stray dogs in winter, when cold
+and standing in some doorway for protection. Already the middle of the
+body and the shoulders quivered like water on the point of boiling. It
+was a funny demolition all the same, going off wriggling like a girl
+being tickled.
+
+Coupeau, meanwhile, was complaining in a hollow voice. He seemed to
+suffer a great deal more than the day before. His broken murmurs
+disclosed all sorts of ailments. Thousands of pins were pricking him.
+He felt something heavy all about his body; some cold, wet animal was
+crawling over his thighs and digging its fangs into his flesh. Then
+there were other animals sticking to his shoulders, tearing his back
+with their claws.
+
+“I’m thirsty, oh! I’m thirsty!” groaned he continually.
+
+The house surgeon handed him a little lemonade from a small shelf;
+Coupeau seized the mug in both hands and greedily took a mouthful,
+spilling half the liquid over himself; but he spat it out at once with
+furious disgust, exclaiming:
+
+“Damnation! It’s brandy!”
+
+Then, on a sign from the doctor, the house surgeon tried to make him
+drink some water without leaving go of the bottle. This time he
+swallowed the mouthful, yelling as though he had swallowed fire.
+
+“It’s brandy; damnation! It’s brandy!”
+
+Since the night before, everything he had had to drink was brandy. It
+redoubled his thirst and he could no longer drink, because everything
+burnt him. They had brought him some broth, but they were evidently
+trying to poison him, for the broth smelt of vitriol. The bread was
+sour and moldy. There was nothing but poison around him. The cell stank
+of sulphur. He even accused persons of rubbing matches under his nose
+to infect him.
+
+All on a sudden he exclaimed:
+
+“Oh! the rats, there’re the rats now!”
+
+There were black balls that were changing into rats. These filthy
+animals got fatter and fatter, then they jumped onto the mattress and
+disappeared. There was also a monkey which came out of the wall, and
+went back into the wall, and which approached so near him each time,
+that he drew back through fear of having his nose bitten off. Suddenly
+there was another change, the walls were probably cutting capers, for
+he yelled out, choking with terror and rage:
+
+“That’s it, gee up! Shake me, I don’t care! Gee up! Tumble down! Yes,
+ring the bells, you black crows! Play the organ to prevent my calling
+the police. They’ve put a bomb behind the wall, the lousy scoundrels! I
+can hear it, it snorts, they’re going to blow us up! Fire! Damnation,
+fire! There’s a cry of fire! There it blazes. Oh, it’s getting lighter,
+lighter! All the sky’s burning, red fires, green fires, yellow fires.
+Hi! Help! Fire!”
+
+His cries became lost in a rattle. He now only mumbled disconnected
+words, foaming at the mouth, his chin wet with saliva. The doctor
+rubbed his nose with his finger, a movement no doubt habitual with him
+in the presence of serious cases. He turned to the house surgeon, and
+asked him in a low voice:
+
+“And the temperature, still the hundred degrees, is it not?”
+
+“Yes, sir.”
+
+The doctor pursed his lips. He continued there another two minutes, his
+eyes fixed on Coupeau. Then he shrugged his shoulders, adding:
+
+“The same treatment, broth, milk, lemonade, and the potion of extract
+of quinine. Do not leave him, and call me if necessary.”
+
+He went out and Gervaise followed him, to ask him if there was any
+hope. But he walked so stiffly along the corridor, that she did not
+dare approach him. She stood rooted there a minute, hesitating whether
+to return and look at her husband. The time she had already passed had
+been far from pleasant. As she again heard him calling out that the
+lemonade smelt of brandy, she hurried away, having had enough of the
+performance. In the streets, the galloping of the horses and the noise
+of the vehicles made her fancy that all the inmates of Saint-Anne were
+at her heels. And that the doctor had threatened her! Really, she
+already thought she had the complaint.
+
+In the Rue de la Goutte-d’Or the Boches and the others were naturally
+awaiting her. The moment she appeared they called her into the
+concierge’s room. Well! was old Coupeau still in the land of the
+living? _Mon Dieu!_ yes, he still lived. Boche seemed amazed and
+confounded; he had bet a bottle that old Coupeau would not last till
+the evening. What! He still lived! And they all exhibited their
+astonishment, and slapped their thighs. There was a fellow who lasted!
+Madame Lorilleux reckoned up the hours; thirty-six hours and
+twenty-four hours, sixty hours. _Sacre Dieu!_ already sixty hours that
+he had been doing the jig and screaming! Such a feat of strength had
+never been seen before. But Boche, who was upset that he had lost the
+bet, questioned Gervaise with an air of doubt, asking her if she was
+quite sure he had not filed off behind her back. Oh! no, he had no
+desire to, he jumped about too much. Then Boche, still doubting, begged
+her to show them again a little how he was acting, just so they could
+see. Yes, yes, a little more! The request was general! The company told
+her she would be very kind if she would oblige, for just then two
+neighbors happened to be there who had not been present the day before,
+and who had come down purposely to see the performance. The concierge
+called to everybody to make room, they cleared the centre of the
+apartment, pushing one another with their elbows, and quivering with
+curiosity. Gervaise, however, hung down her head. Really, she was
+afraid it might upset her. Desirous though of showing that she did not
+refuse for the sake of being pressed, she tried two or three little
+leaps; but she became quite queer, and stopped; on her word of honor,
+she was not equal to it! There was a murmur of disappointment; it was a
+pity, she imitated it perfectly. However, she could not do it, it was
+no use insisting! And when Virginie left to return to her shop, they
+forgot all about old Coupeau and began to gossip about the Poissons and
+their home, a real mess now. The day before, the bailiffs had been; the
+policeman was about to lose his place; as for Lantier, he was now
+making up to the daughter of the restaurant keeper next door, a fine
+woman, who talked of setting up as a tripe-seller. Ah! it was amusing,
+everyone already beheld a tripe-seller occupying the shop; after the
+sweets should come something substantial. And that blind Poisson! How
+could a man whose profession required him to be so smart fail to see
+what was going on in his own home? They stopped talking suddenly when
+they noticed that Gervaise was off in a corner by herself imitating
+Coupeau. Her hands and feet were jerking. Yes, they couldn’t ask for a
+better performance! Then Gervaise started as if waking from a dream and
+hurried away calling out good-night to everyone.
+
+On the morrow, the Boches saw her start off at twelve, the same as on
+the two previous days. They wished her a pleasant afternoon. That day
+the corridor at Sainte-Anne positively shook with Coupeau’s yells and
+kicks. She had not left the stairs when she heard him yelling:
+
+“What a lot of bugs!—Come this way again that I may squash you!—Ah!
+they want to kill me! ah! the bugs!—I’m a bigger swell than the lot of
+you! Clear out, damnation! Clear out.”
+
+For a moment she stood panting before the door. Was he then fighting
+against an army? When she entered, the performance had increased and
+was embellished even more than on previous occasions. Coupeau was a
+raving madman, the same as one sees at the Charenton mad-house! He was
+throwing himself about in the center of the cell, slamming his fists
+everywhere, on himself, on the walls, on the floor, and stumbling about
+punching empty space. He wanted to open the window, and he hid himself,
+defended himself, called, answered, produced all this uproar without
+the least assistance, in the exasperated way of a man beset by a mob of
+people. Then Gervaise understood that he fancied he was on a roof,
+laying down sheets of zinc. He imitated the bellows with his mouth, he
+moved the iron about in the fire and knelt down so as to pass his thumb
+along the edges of the mat, thinking that he was soldering it. Yes, his
+handicraft returned to him at the moment of croaking; and if he yelled
+so loud, if he fought on his roof, it was because ugly scoundrels were
+preventing him doing his work properly. On all the neighboring roofs
+were villains mocking and tormenting him. Besides that, the jokers were
+letting troops of rats loose about his legs. Ah! the filthy beasts, he
+saw them always! Though he kept crushing them, bringing his foot down
+with all his strength, fresh hordes of them continued passing, until
+they quite covered the roof. And there were spiders there too! He
+roughly pressed his trousers against his thigh to squash some big
+spiders which had crept up his leg. _Mon Dieu!_ he would never finish
+his day’s work, they wanted to destroy him, his employer would send him
+to prison. Then, whilst making haste, he suddenly imagined he had a
+steam-engine in his stomach; with his mouth wide open, he puffed out
+the smoke, a dense smoke which filled the cell and found an outlet by
+the window; and, bending forward, still puffing, he looked outside of
+the cloud of smoke as it unrolled and ascended to the sky, where it hid
+the sun.
+
+“Look!” cried he, “there’s the band of the Chaussee Clignancourt,
+disguised as bears with drums, putting on a show.”
+
+He remained crouching before the window, as though he had been watching
+a procession in a street, from some rooftop.
+
+“There’s the cavalcade, lions and panthers making grimaces—there’s
+brats dressed up as dogs and cats—there’s tall Clemence, with her wig
+full of feathers. Ah! _Mon Dieu!_ she’s turning head over heels; she’s
+showed everything—you’d better run, Duckie. Hey, the cops, leave her
+alone!—just you leave her alone—don’t shoot! Don’t shoot—”
+
+His voice rose, hoarse and terrified and he stooped down quickly,
+saying that the police and the military were below, men who were aiming
+at him with rifles. In the wall he saw the barrel of a pistol emerging,
+pointed at his breast. They had dragged the girl away.
+
+“Don’t shoot! _Mon Dieu!_ Don’t shoot!”
+
+Then, the buildings were tumbling down, he imitated the cracking of a
+whole neighborhood collapsing; and all disappeared, all flew off. But
+he had no time to take breath, other pictures passed with extraordinary
+rapidity. A furious desire to speak filled his mouth full of words
+which he uttered without any connection, and with a gurgling sound in
+his throat. He continued to raise his voice, louder and louder.
+
+“Hallow, it’s you? Good-day! No jokes! Don’t make me nuzzle your hair.”
+
+And he passed his hand before his face, he blew to send the hairs away.
+The house surgeon questioned him.
+
+“Who is it you see?”
+
+“My wife, of course!”
+
+He was looking at the wall, with his back to Gervaise. The latter had a
+rare fright, and she examined the wall, to see if she also could catch
+sight of herself there. He continued talking.
+
+“Now, you know, none of your wheedling—I won’t be tied down! You are
+pretty, you have got a fine dress. Where did you get the money for it,
+you cow? You’ve been at a party, camel! Wait a bit and I’ll do for you!
+Ah! you’re hiding your boy friend behind your skirts. Who is it? Stoop
+down that I may see. Damnation, it’s him again!”
+
+With a terrible leap, he went head first against the wall; but the
+padding softened the blow. One only heard his body rebounding onto the
+matting, where the shock had sent him.
+
+“Who is it you see?” repeated the house surgeon.
+
+“The hatter! The hatter!” yelled Coupeau.
+
+And the house surgeon questioning Gervaise, the latter stuttered
+without being able to answer, for this scene stirred up within her all
+the worries of her life. The zinc-worker thrust out his fists.
+
+“We’ll settle this between us, my lad. It’s full time I did for you!
+Ah, you coolly come, with that virago on your arm, to make a fool of me
+before everyone. Well! I’m going to throttle you—yes, yes, I! And
+without putting any gloves on either! I’ll stop your swaggering. Take
+that! And that! And that!”
+
+He hit about in the air viciously. Then a wild rage took possession of
+him. Having bumped against the wall in walking backwards, he thought he
+was being attacked from behind. He turned round, and fiercely hammered
+away at the padding. He sprang about, jumped from one corner to
+another, knocked his stomach, his back, his shoulder, rolled over, and
+picked himself up again. His bones seemed softened, his flesh had a
+sound like damp oakum. He accompanied this pretty game with atrocious
+threats, and wild and guttural cries. However the battle must have been
+going badly for him, for his breathing became quicker, his eyes were
+starting out of his head, and he seemed little by little to be seized
+with the cowardice of a child.
+
+“Murder! Murder! Be off with you both. Oh! you brutes, they’re
+laughing. There she is on her back, the virago! She must give in, it’s
+settled. Ah! the brigand, he’s murdering her! He’s cutting off her leg
+with his knife. The other leg’s on the ground, the stomach’s in two,
+it’s full of blood. Oh! _Mon Dieu!_ Oh! _Mon Dieu!_”
+
+And, covered with perspiration, his hair standing on end, looking a
+frightful object, he retired backwards, violently waving his arms, as
+though to send the abominable sight from him. He uttered two
+heart-rending wails, and fell flat on his back on the mattress, against
+which his heels had caught.
+
+“He’s dead, sir, he’s dead!” said Gervaise, clasping her hands.
+
+The house surgeon had drawn near, and was pulling Coupeau into the
+middle of the mattress. No, he was not dead. They had taken his shoes
+off. His bare feet hung off the end of the mattress and they were
+dancing all by themselves, one beside the other, in time, a little
+hurried and regular dance.
+
+Just then the head doctor entered. He had brought two of his
+colleagues—one thin, the other fat, and both decorated like himself.
+All three stooped down without saying a word, and examined the man all
+over; then they rapidly conversed together in a low voice. They had
+uncovered Coupeau from his thighs to his shoulders, and by standing on
+tiptoe Gervaise could see the naked trunk spread out. Well! it was
+complete. The trembling had descended from the arms and ascended from
+the legs, and now the trunk itself was getting lively!
+
+“He’s sleeping,” murmured the head doctor.
+
+And he called the two others’ attention to the man’s countenance.
+Coupeau, his eyes closed, had little nervous twinges which drew up all
+his face. He was more hideous still, thus flattened out, with his jaw
+projecting, and his visage deformed like a corpse’s that had suffered
+from nightmare; but the doctors, having caught sight of his feet, went
+and poked their noses over them, with an air of profound interest. The
+feet were still dancing. Though Coupeau slept the feet danced. Oh!
+their owner might snore, that did not concern them, they continued
+their little occupation without either hurrying or slackening. Regular
+mechanical feet, feet which took their pleasure wherever they found it.
+
+Gervaise having seen the doctors place their hands on her old man,
+wished to feel him also. She approached gently and laid a hand on his
+shoulder, and she kept it there a minute. _Mon Dieu!_ whatever was
+taking place inside? It danced down into the very depths of the flesh,
+the bones themselves must have been jumping. Quiverings, undulations,
+coming from afar, flowed like a river beneath the skin. When she
+pressed a little she felt she distinguished the suffering cries of the
+marrow. What a fearful thing, something was boring away like a mole! It
+must be the rotgut from l’Assommoir that was hacking away inside him.
+Well! his entire body had been soaked in it.
+
+The doctors had gone away. At the end of an hour Gervaise, who had
+remained with the house surgeon, repeated in a low voice:
+
+“He’s dead, sir; he’s dead!”
+
+But the house surgeon, who was watching the feet, shook his head. The
+bare feet, projecting beyond the mattress, still danced on. They were
+not particularly clean and the nails were long. Several more hours
+passed. All on a sudden they stiffened and became motionless. Then the
+house surgeon turned towards Gervaise, saying:
+
+“It’s over now.”
+
+Death alone had been able to stop those feet.
+
+When Gervaise got back to the Rue de la Goutte-d’Or she found at the
+Boches’ a number of women who were cackling in excited tones. She
+thought they were awaiting her to have the latest news, the same as the
+other days.
+
+“He’s gone,” said she, quietly, as she pushed open the door, looking
+tired out and dull.
+
+But no one listened to her. The whole building was topsy-turvy. Oh! a
+most extraordinary story. Poisson had caught his wife with Lantier.
+Exact details were not known, because everyone had a different version.
+However, he had appeared just when they were not expecting him. Some
+further information was given, which the ladies repeated to one another
+as they pursed their lips. A sight like that had naturally brought
+Poisson out of his shell. He was a regular tiger. This man, who talked
+but little and who always seemed to walk with a stick up his back, had
+begun to roar and jump about. Then nothing more had been heard. Lantier
+had evidently explained things to the husband. Anyhow, it could not
+last much longer, and Boche announced that the girl of the restaurant
+was for certain going to take the shop for selling tripe. That rogue of
+a hatter adored tripe.
+
+On seeing Madame Lorilleux and Madame Lerat arrive, Gervaise repeated,
+faintly:
+
+“He’s gone. _Mon Dieu!_ Four days’ dancing and yelling—”
+
+Then the two sisters could not do otherwise than pull out their
+handkerchiefs. Their brother had had many faults, but after all he was
+their brother. Boche shrugged his shoulders and said, loud enough to be
+heard by everyone:
+
+“Bah! It’s a drunkard the less.”
+
+From that day, as Gervaise often got a bit befuddled, one of the
+amusements of the house was to see her imitate Coupeau. It was no
+longer necessary to press her; she gave the performance gratis, her
+hands and feet trembling as she uttered little involuntary shrieks. She
+must have caught this habit at Sainte-Anne from watching her husband
+too long.
+
+Gervaise lasted in this state several months. She fell lower and lower
+still, submitting to the grossest outrages and dying of starvation a
+little every day. As soon as she had four sous she drank and pounded on
+the walls. She was employed on all the dirty errands of the
+neighborhood. Once they even bet her she wouldn’t eat filth, but she
+did it in order to earn ten sous. Monsieur Marescot had decided to turn
+her out of her room on the sixth floor. But, as Pere Bru had just been
+found dead in his cubbyhole under the staircase, the landlord had
+allowed her to turn into it. Now she roosted there in the place of Pere
+Bru. It was inside there, on some straw, that her teeth chattered,
+whilst her stomach was empty and her bones were frozen. The earth would
+not have her apparently. She was becoming idiotic. She did not even
+think of making an end of herself by jumping out of the sixth floor
+window on to the pavement of the courtyard below. Death had to take her
+little by little, bit by bit, dragging her thus to the end through the
+accursed existence she had made for herself. It was never even exactly
+known what she did die of. There was some talk of a cold, but the truth
+was she died of privation and of the filth and hardship of her ruined
+life. Overeating and dissoluteness killed her, according to the
+Lorilleuxs. One morning, as there was a bad smell in the passage, it
+was remembered that she had not been seen for two days, and she was
+discovered already green in her hole.
+
+It happened to be old Bazouge who came with the pauper’s coffin under
+his arm to pack her up. He was again precious drunk that day, but a
+jolly fellow all the same, and as lively as a cricket. When he
+recognized the customer he had to deal with he uttered several
+philosophical reflections, whilst performing his little business.
+
+“Everyone has to go. There’s no occasion for jostling, there’s room for
+everyone. And it’s stupid being in a hurry that just slows you up. All
+I want to do is to please everybody. Some will, others won’t. What’s
+the result? Here’s one who wouldn’t, then she would. So she was made to
+wait. Anyhow, it’s all right now, and faith! She’s earned it! Merrily,
+just take it easy.”
+
+And when he took hold of Gervaise in his big, dirty hands, he was
+seized with emotion, and he gently raised this woman who had had so
+great a longing for his attentions. Then, as he laid her out with
+paternal care at the bottom of the coffin, he stuttered between two
+hiccoughs:
+
+“You know—now listen—it’s me, Bibi-the-Gay, called the ladies’
+consoler. There, you’re happy now. Go by-by, my beauty!”
+
+THE END
+
+
+
+
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+<head>
+<meta http-equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html;charset=utf-8" />
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+<title>The Project Gutenberg eBook of L’assommoir, by Émile Zola</title>
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+<div style='text-align:center; font-size:1.2em; font-weight:bold'>The Project Gutenberg eBook of L’assommoir, by Émile Zola</div>
+<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'>
+This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and
+most other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions
+whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms
+of the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online
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+country where you are located before using this eBook.
+</div>
+<div style='display:block; margin-top:1em; margin-bottom:1em; margin-left:2em; text-indent:-2em'>Title: L’assommoir</div>
+<div style='display:block; margin-top:1em; margin-bottom:1em; margin-left:2em; text-indent:-2em'>Author: Émile Zola</div>
+<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'>Release Date: July 27, 2003 [eBook #8600]<br />
+[Last updated: September 15, 2022]</div>
+<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'>Language: English</div>
+<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'>Character set encoding: UTF-8</div>
+<div style='display:block; margin-left:2em; text-indent:-2em'>Produced by: John Bickers, Dagny and David Widger</div>
+<div style='margin-top:2em; margin-bottom:4em'>*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK L’ASSOMMOIR ***</div>
+
+<h1>L'ASSOMMOIR</h1>
+
+<h2 class="no-break">By Émile Zola</h2>
+
+<hr />
+
+<h2>CONTENTS</h2>
+
+<table summary="" style="">
+
+<tr>
+<td> <a href="#link2HCH0001">CHAPTER I.</a></td>
+</tr>
+
+<tr>
+<td> <a href="#link2HCH0002">CHAPTER II.</a></td>
+</tr>
+
+<tr>
+<td> <a href="#link2HCH0003">CHAPTER III.</a></td>
+</tr>
+
+<tr>
+<td> <a href="#link2HCH0004">CHAPTER IV.</a></td>
+</tr>
+
+<tr>
+<td> <a href="#link2HCH0005">CHAPTER V.</a></td>
+</tr>
+
+<tr>
+<td> <a href="#link2HCH0006">CHAPTER VI.</a></td>
+</tr>
+
+<tr>
+<td> <a href="#link2HCH0007">CHAPTER VII.</a></td>
+</tr>
+
+<tr>
+<td> <a href="#link2HCH0008">CHAPTER VIII</a></td>
+</tr>
+
+<tr>
+<td> <a href="#link2HCH0009">CHAPTER IX</a></td>
+</tr>
+
+<tr>
+<td> <a href="#link2HCH0010">CHAPTER X</a></td>
+</tr>
+
+<tr>
+<td> <a href="#link2HCH0011">CHAPTER XI</a></td>
+</tr>
+
+<tr>
+<td> <a href="#link2HCH0012">CHAPTER XII</a></td>
+</tr>
+
+<tr>
+<td> <a href="#link2HCH0013">CHAPTER XIII</a></td>
+</tr>
+
+</table>
+
+<hr />
+
+<div class="chapter">
+
+<h2><a name="link2HCH0001" id="link2HCH0001"></a>
+CHAPTER I.</h2>
+
+<p>
+Gervaise had waited up for Lantier until two in the morning. Then, shivering
+from having remained in a thin loose jacket, exposed to the fresh air at the
+window, she had thrown herself across the bed, drowsy, feverish, and her cheeks
+bathed in tears.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+For a week past, on leaving the &ldquo;Two-Headed Calf,&rdquo; where they took
+their meals, he had sent her home with the children and never reappeared
+himself till late at night, alleging that he had been in search of work. That
+evening, while watching for his return, she thought she had seen him enter the
+dancing-hall of the &ldquo;Grand-Balcony,&rdquo; the ten blazing windows of
+which lighted up with the glare of a conflagration the dark expanse of the
+exterior Boulevards; and five or six paces behind him, she had caught sight of
+little Adele, a burnisher, who dined at the same restaurant, swinging her
+hands, as if she had just quitted his arm so as not to pass together under the
+dazzling light of the globes at the door.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+When, towards five o&rsquo;clock, Gervaise awoke, stiff and sore, she broke
+forth into sobs. Lantier had not returned. For the first time he had slept away
+from home. She remained seated on the edge of the bed, under the strip of faded
+chintz, which hung from the rod fastened to the ceiling by a piece of string.
+And slowly, with her eyes veiled by tears, she glanced round the wretched
+lodging, furnished with a walnut chest of drawers, minus one drawer, three
+rush-bottomed chairs, and a little greasy table, on which stood a broken
+water-jug. There had been added, for the children, an iron bedstead, which
+prevented any one getting to the chest of drawers, and filled two-thirds of the
+room. Gervaise&rsquo;s and Lantier&rsquo;s trunk, wide open, in one corner,
+displayed its emptiness, and a man&rsquo;s old hat right at the bottom almost
+buried beneath some dirty shirts and socks; whilst, against the walls, above
+the articles of furniture, hung a shawl full of holes, and a pair of trousers
+begrimed with mud, the last rags which the dealers in second-hand clothes
+declined to buy. In the centre of the mantel-piece, lying between two odd zinc
+candle-sticks, was a bundle of pink pawn-tickets. It was the best room of the
+hotel, the first floor room, looking on to the Boulevard.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The two children were sleeping side by side, with their heads on the same
+pillow. Claude, aged eight years, was breathing quietly, with his little hands
+thrown outside the coverlet; while Etienne, only four years old, was smiling,
+with one arm round his brother&rsquo;s neck. And bare-footed, without thinking
+to again put on the old shoes that had fallen on the floor, she resumed her
+position at the window, her eyes searching the pavements in the distance.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The hotel was situated on the Boulevard de la Chapelle, to the left of the
+Barriere Poissonniere. It was a building of two stories high, painted a red, of
+the color of wine dregs, up to the second floor, and with shutters all rotted
+by the rain. Over a lamp with starred panes of glass, one could manage to read,
+between the two windows, the words, &ldquo;Hotel Boncoeur, kept by
+Marsoullier,&rdquo; painted in big yellow letters, several pieces of which the
+moldering of the plaster had carried away. The lamp preventing her seeing,
+Gervaise raised herself on tiptoe, still holding the handkerchief to her lips.
+She looked to the right, towards the Boulevard Rochechouart, where groups of
+butchers, in aprons smeared with blood, were hanging about in front of the
+slaughter-houses; and the fresh breeze wafted occasionally a stench of
+slaughtered beasts. Looking to the left, she scanned a long avenue that ended
+nearly in front of her, where the white mass of the Lariboisiere Hospital was
+then in course of construction. Slowly, from one end of the horizon to the
+other, she followed the octroi wall, behind which she sometimes heard, during
+night time, the shrieks of persons being murdered; and she searchingly looked
+into the remote angles, the dark corners, black with humidity and filth,
+fearing to discern there Lantier&rsquo;s body, stabbed to death.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+She looked at the endless gray wall that surrounded the city with its belt of
+desolation. When she raised her eyes higher, she became aware of a bright burst
+of sunlight. The dull hum of the city&rsquo;s awakening already filled the air.
+Craning her neck to look at the Poissonniere gate, she remained for a time
+watching the constant stream of men, horses, and carts which flooded down from
+the heights of Montmartre and La Chapelle, pouring between the two squat octroi
+lodges. It was like a herd of plodding cattle, an endless throng widened by
+sudden stoppages into eddies that spilled off the sidewalks into the street, a
+steady procession of laborers on their way back to work with tools slung over
+their back and a loaf of bread under their arm. This human inundation kept
+pouring down into Paris to be constantly swallowed up. Gervaise leaned further
+out at the risk of falling when she thought she recognized Lantier among the
+throng. She pressed the handkerchief tighter against her mouth, as though to
+push back the pain within her.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The sound of a young and cheerful voice caused her to leave the window.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;So the old man isn&rsquo;t here, Madame Lantier?&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Why, no, Monsieur Coupeau,&rdquo; she replied, trying to smile.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Coupeau, a zinc-worker who occupied a ten franc room on the top floor, having
+seen the door unlocked, had walked in as friends will do.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;You know,&rdquo; he continued, &ldquo;I&rsquo;m now working over there
+in the hospital. What beautiful May weather, isn&rsquo;t it? The air is rather
+sharp this morning.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+And he looked at Gervaise&rsquo;s face, red with weeping. When he saw that the
+bed had not been slept in, he shook his head gently; then he went to the
+children&rsquo;s couch where they were sleeping, looking as rosy as cherubs,
+and, lowering his voice, he said,
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Come, the old man&rsquo;s not been home, has he? Don&rsquo;t worry
+yourself, Madame Lantier. He&rsquo;s very much occupied with politics. When
+they were voting for Eugene Sue the other day, he was acting almost crazy. He
+has very likely spent the night with some friends blackguarding crapulous
+Bonaparte.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;No, no,&rdquo; she murmured with an effort. &ldquo;You don&rsquo;t think
+that. I know where Lantier is. You see, we have our little troubles like the
+rest of the world!&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Coupeau winked his eye, to indicate he was not a dupe of this falsehood; and he
+went off, after offering to fetch her milk, if she did not care to go out: she
+was a good and courageous woman, and might count upon him on any day of
+trouble.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+As soon as he was gone, Gervaise again returned to the window. At the Barriere,
+the tramp of the drove still continued in the morning air: locksmiths in short
+blue blouses, masons in white jackets, house painters in overcoats over long
+smocks. From a distance the crowd looked like a chalky smear of neutral hue
+composed chiefly of faded blue and dingy gray. When one of the workers
+occasionally stopped to light his pipe the others kept plodding past him,
+without sparing a laugh or a word to a comrade. With cheeks gray as clay, their
+eyes were continually drawn toward Paris which was swallowing them one by one.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+At both corners of the Rue des Poissonniers however, some of the men slackened
+their pace as they neared the doors of the two wine-dealers who were taking
+down their shutters; and, before entering, they stood on the edge of the
+pavement, looking sideways over Paris, with no strength in their arms and
+already inclined for a day of idleness. Inside various groups were already
+buying rounds of drinks, or just standing around, forgetting their troubles,
+crowding up the place, coughing, spitting, clearing their throats with sip
+after sip.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Gervaise was watching Pere Colombe&rsquo;s wineshop to the left of the street,
+where she thought she had seen Lantier, when a stout woman, bareheaded and
+wearing an apron called to her from the middle of the roadway:
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Hey, Madame Lantier, you&rsquo;re up very early!&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Gervaise leaned out. &ldquo;Why! It&rsquo;s you, Madame Boche! Oh! I&rsquo;ve
+got a lot of work to-day!&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Yes, things don&rsquo;t do themselves, do they?&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The conversation continued between roadway and window. Madame Boche was
+concierge of the building where the &ldquo;Two-Headed Calf&rdquo; was on the
+ground floor. Gervaise had waited for Lantier more than once in the
+concierge&rsquo;s lodge, so as not to be alone at table with all the men who
+ate at the restaurant. Madame Boche was going to a tailor who was late in
+mending an overcoat for her husband. She mentioned one of her tenants who had
+come in with a woman the night before and kept everybody awake past three in
+the morning. She looked at Gervaise with intense curiosity.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Is Monsieur Lantier, then, still in bed?&rdquo; she asked abruptly.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Yes, he&rsquo;s asleep,&rdquo; replied Gervaise, who could not avoid
+blushing.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Madame Boche saw the tears come into her eyes; and, satisfied no doubt, she
+turned to go, declaring men to be a cursed, lazy set. As she went off, she
+called back:
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;It&rsquo;s this morning you go to the wash-house, isn&rsquo;t it?
+I&rsquo;ve something to wash, too. I&rsquo;ll keep you a place next to me, and
+we can chat together.&rdquo; Then, as if moved with sudden pity, she added:
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;My poor little thing, you had far better not remain there; you&rsquo;ll
+take harm. You look quite blue with cold.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Gervaise still obstinately remained at the window during two mortal hours, till
+eight o&rsquo;clock. Now all the shops had opened. Only a few work men were
+still hurrying along.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The working girls now filled the boulevard: metal polishers, milliners, flower
+sellers, shivering in their thin clothing. In small groups they chattered
+gaily, laughing and glancing here and there. Occasionally there would be one
+girl by herself, thin, pale, serious-faced, picking her way along the city wall
+among the puddles and the filth.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+After the working girls, the office clerks came past, breathing upon their
+chilled fingers and munching penny rolls. Some of them are gaunt young fellows
+in ill-fitting suits, their tired eyes still fogged from sleep. Others are
+older men, stooped and tottering, with faces pale and drawn from long hours of
+office work and glancing nervously at their watches for fear of arriving late.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+In time the Boulevards settle into their usual morning quiet. Old folks come
+out to stroll in the sun. Tired young mothers in bedraggled skirts cuddle
+babies in their arms or sit on a bench to change diapers. Children run,
+squealing and laughing, pushing and shoving.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Then Gervaise felt herself choking, dizzy with anguish, all hopes gone; it
+seemed to her that everything was ended, even time itself, and that Lantier
+would return no more. Her eyes vacantly wandered from the old slaughter-house,
+foul with butchery and with stench, to the new white hospital which, through
+the yawning openings of its ranges of windows, disclosed the naked wards, where
+death was preparing to mow. In front of her on the other side of the octroi
+wall the bright heavens dazzled her, with the rising sun which rose higher and
+higher over the vast awaking city.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The young woman was seated on a chair, no longer crying, and with her hands
+abandoned on her lap, when Lantier quietly entered the room.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;It&rsquo;s you! It&rsquo;s you!&rdquo; she cried, rising to throw
+herself upon his neck.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Yes, it&rsquo;s me. What of it?&rdquo; he replied. &ldquo;You are not
+going to begin any of your nonsense, I hope!&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+He had pushed her aside. Then, with a gesture of ill-humor he threw his black
+felt hat to the chest of drawers. He was a young fellow of twenty-six years of
+age, short and very dark, with a handsome figure, and slight moustaches which
+his hand was always mechanically twirling. He wore a workman&rsquo;s overalls
+and an old soiled overcoat, which he had belted tightly at the waist, and he
+spoke with a strong Provencal accent.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Gervaise, who had fallen back on her chair, gently complained, in short
+sentences: &ldquo;I&rsquo;ve not had a wink of sleep. I feared some harm had
+happened to you. Where have you been? Where did you spend the night? For
+heaven&rsquo;s sake! Don&rsquo;t do it again, or I shall go crazy. Tell me
+Auguste, where have you been?&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Where I had business, of course,&rdquo; he returned shrugging his
+shoulders. &ldquo;At eight o&rsquo;clock, I was at La Glaciere, with my friend
+who is to start a hat factory. We sat talking late, so I preferred to sleep
+there. Now, you know, I don&rsquo;t like being spied upon, so just shut
+up!&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The young woman recommenced sobbing. The loud voices and the rough movements of
+Lantier, who upset the chairs, had awakened the children. They sat up in bed,
+half naked, disentangling their hair with their tiny hands, and, hearing their
+mother weep, they uttered terrible screams, crying also with their scarcely
+open eyes.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Ah! there&rsquo;s the music!&rdquo; shouted Lantier furiously. &ldquo;I
+warn you, I&rsquo;ll take my hook! And it will be for good, this time. You
+won&rsquo;t shut up? Then, good morning! I&rsquo;ll return to the place
+I&rsquo;ve just come from.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+He had already taken his hat from off the chest of drawers. But Gervaise threw
+herself before him, stammering: &ldquo;No, no!&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+And she hushed the little ones&rsquo; tears with her caresses, smoothed their
+hair, and soothed them with soft words. The children, suddenly quieted,
+laughing on their pillow, amused themselves by punching each other. The father
+however, without even taking off his boots, had thrown himself on the bed
+looking worn out, his face bearing signs of having been up all night. He did
+not go to sleep, he lay with his eyes wide open, looking round the room.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;It&rsquo;s a mess here!&rdquo; he muttered. And after observing Gervaise
+a moment, he malignantly added: &ldquo;Don&rsquo;t you even wash yourself
+now?&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Gervaise was twenty-two, tall and slim with fine features, but she was already
+beginning to show the strain of her hard life. She seemed to have aged ten
+years from the hours of agonized weeping. Lantier&rsquo;s mean remark made her
+mad.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;You&rsquo;re not fair,&rdquo; she said spiritedly. &ldquo;You well know
+I do all I can. It&rsquo;s not my fault we find ourselves here. I would like to
+see you, with two children, in a room where there&rsquo;s not even a stove to
+heat some water. When we arrived in Paris, instead of squandering your money,
+you should have made a home for us at once, as you promised.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Listen!&rdquo; Lantier exploded. &ldquo;You cracked the nut with me; it
+doesn&rsquo;t become you to sneer at it now!&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Apparently not listening, Gervaise went on with her own thought. &ldquo;If we
+work hard we can get out of the hole we&rsquo;re in. Madame Fauconnier, the
+laundress on Rue Neuve, will start me on Monday. If you work with your friend
+from La Glaciere, in six months we will be doing well. We&rsquo;ll have enough
+for decent clothes and a place we can call our own. But we&rsquo;ll have to
+stick with it and work hard.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Lantier turned over towards the wall, looking greatly bored. Then Gervaise lost
+her temper.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Yes, that&rsquo;s it, I know the love of work doesn&rsquo;t trouble you
+much. You&rsquo;re bursting with ambition, you want to be dressed like a
+gentleman. You don&rsquo;t think me nice enough, do you, now that you&rsquo;ve
+made me pawn all my dresses? Listen, Auguste, I didn&rsquo;t intend to speak of
+it, I would have waited a bit longer, but I know where you spent the night; I
+saw you enter the &lsquo;Grand-Balcony&rsquo; with that trollop Adele. Ah! you
+choose them well! She&rsquo;s a nice one, she is! She does well to put on the
+airs of a princess! She&rsquo;s been the ridicule of every man who frequents
+the restaurant.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+At a bound Lantier sprang from the bed. His eyes had become as black as ink in
+his pale face. With this little man, rage blew like a tempest.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Yes, yes, of every man who frequents the restaurant!&rdquo; repeated the
+young woman. &ldquo;Madame Boche intends to give them notice, she and her long
+stick of a sister, because they&rsquo;ve always a string of men after them on
+the staircase.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Lantier raised his fists; then, resisting the desire of striking her, he seized
+hold of her by the arms, shook her violently and sent her sprawling upon the
+bed of the children, who recommenced crying. And he lay down again, mumbling,
+like a man resolving on something that he previously hesitated to do:
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;You don&rsquo;t know what you&rsquo;ve done, Gervaise. You&rsquo;ve made
+a big mistake; you&rsquo;ll see.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+For an instant the children continued sobbing. Their mother, who remained
+bending over the bed, held them both in her embrace, and kept repeating the
+same words in a monotonous tone of voice.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Ah! if it weren&rsquo;t for you! My poor little ones! If it
+weren&rsquo;t for you! If it weren&rsquo;t for you!&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Stretched out quietly, his eyes raised to the faded strip of chintz, Lantier no
+longer listened, but seemed to be buried in a fixed idea. He remained thus for
+nearly an hour, without giving way to sleep, in spite of the fatigue which
+weighed his eyelids down.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+He finally turned toward Gervaise, his face set hard in determination. She had
+gotten the children up and dressed and had almost finished cleaning the room.
+The room looked, as always, dark and depressing with its sooty black ceiling
+and paper peeling from the damp walls. The dilapidated furniture was always
+streaked and dirty despite frequent dustings. Gervaise, devouring her grief,
+trying to assume a look of indifference, hurried over her work.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Lantier watched as she tidied her hair in front of the small mirror hanging
+near the window. While she washed herself he looked at her bare arms and
+shoulders. He seemed to be making comparisons in his mind as his lips formed a
+grimace. Gervaise limped with her right leg, though it was scarcely noticeable
+except when she was tired. To-day, exhausted from remaining awake all night,
+she was supporting herself against the wall and dragging her leg.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Neither one spoke, they had nothing more to say. Lantier seemed to be waiting,
+while Gervaise kept busy and tried to keep her countenance expressionless.
+Finally, while she was making a bundle of the dirty clothes thrown in a corner,
+behind the trunk, he at length opened his lips and asked:
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;What are you doing there? Where are you going?&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+She did not answer at first. Then, when he furiously repeated his question, she
+made up her mind, and said:
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;I suppose you can see for yourself. I&rsquo;m going to wash all this.
+The children can&rsquo;t live in filth.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+He let her pick up two or three handkerchiefs. And, after a fresh pause, he
+resumed: &ldquo;Have you got any money?&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+At these words she stood up and looked him full in the face, without leaving go
+of the children&rsquo;s dirty clothes, which she held in her hand.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Money! And where do you think I can have stolen any? You know well
+enough that I got three francs the day before yesterday on my black skirt.
+We&rsquo;ve lunched twice off it, and money goes quick at the
+pork-butcher&rsquo;s. No, you may be quite sure I&rsquo;ve no money. I&rsquo;ve
+four sous for the wash-house. I don&rsquo;t have an extra income like some
+women.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+He let this allusion pass. He had moved off the bed, and was passing in review
+the few rags hanging about the room. He ended by taking up the pair of trousers
+and the shawl, and searching the drawers, he added two chemises and a
+woman&rsquo;s loose jacket to the parcel; then, he threw the whole bundle into
+Gervaise&rsquo;s arms, saying:
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Here, go and pop this.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Don&rsquo;t you want me to pop the children as well?&rdquo; asked she.
+&ldquo;Eh! If they lent on children, it would be a fine riddance!&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+She went to the pawn-place, however. When she returned at the end of half an
+hour, she laid a hundred sou piece on the mantel-shelf, and added the ticket to
+the others, between the two candlesticks.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;That&rsquo;s what they gave me,&rdquo; said she. &ldquo;I wanted six
+francs, but I couldn&rsquo;t manage it. Oh! they&rsquo;ll never ruin
+themselves. And there&rsquo;s always such a crowd there!&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Lantier did not pick up the five franc piece directly. He would rather that she
+got change, so as to leave her some of it. But he decided to slip it into his
+waistcoat pocket, when he noticed a small piece of ham wrapped up in paper, and
+the remains of a loaf on the chest of drawers.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;I didn&rsquo;t dare go to the milkwoman&rsquo;s, because we owe her a
+week,&rdquo; explained Gervaise. &ldquo;But I shall be back early; you can get
+some bread and some chops whilst I&rsquo;m away, and then we&rsquo;ll have
+lunch. Bring also a bottle of wine.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+He did not say no. Their quarrel seemed to be forgotten. The young woman was
+completing her bundle of dirty clothes. But when she went to take
+Lantier&rsquo;s shirts and socks from the bottom of the trunk, he called to her
+to leave them alone.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Leave my things, d&rsquo;ye hear? I don&rsquo;t want &rsquo;em
+touched!&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;What&rsquo;s it you don&rsquo;t want touched?&rdquo; she asked, rising
+up. &ldquo;I suppose you don&rsquo;t mean to put these filthy things on again,
+do you? They must be washed.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+She studied his boyishly handsome face, now so rigid that it seemed nothing
+could ever soften it. He angrily grabbed his things from her and threw them
+back into the trunk, saying:
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Just obey me, for once! I tell you I won&rsquo;t have &rsquo;em
+touched!&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;But why?&rdquo; she asked, turning pale, a terrible suspicion crossing
+her mind. &ldquo;You don&rsquo;t need your shirts now, you&rsquo;re not going
+away. What can it matter to you if I take them?&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+He hesitated for an instant, embarrassed by the piercing glance she fixed upon
+him. &ldquo;Why&mdash;why&mdash;&rdquo; stammered he, &ldquo;because you go and
+tell everyone that you keep me, that you wash and mend. Well! It worries me,
+there! Attend to your own business and I&rsquo;ll attend to mine, washerwomen
+don&rsquo;t work for dogs.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+She supplicated, she protested she had never complained; but he roughly closed
+the trunk and sat down upon it, saying, &ldquo;No!&rdquo; to her face. He could
+surely do as he liked with what belonged to him! Then, to escape from the
+inquiring looks she leveled at him, he went and laid down on the bed again,
+saying that he was sleepy, and requesting her not to make his head ache with
+any more of her row. This time indeed, he seemed to fall asleep. Gervaise, for
+a while, remained undecided. She was tempted to kick the bundle of dirty
+clothes on one side, and to sit down and sew. But Lantier&rsquo;s regular
+breathing ended by reassuring her. She took the ball of blue and the piece of
+soap remaining from her last washing, and going up to the little ones who were
+quietly playing with some old corks in front of the window, she kissed them,
+and said in a low voice:
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Be very good, don&rsquo;t make any noise; papa&rsquo;s asleep.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+When she left the room, Claude&rsquo;s and Etienne&rsquo;s gentle laughter
+alone disturbed the great silence beneath the blackened ceiling. It was ten
+o&rsquo;clock. A ray of sunshine entered by the half open window.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+On the Boulevard, Gervaise turned to the left, and followed the Rue Neuve de la
+Goutte-d&rsquo;Or. As she passed Madame Fauconnier&rsquo;s shop, she slightly
+bowed her head. The wash-house she was bound for was situated towards the
+middle of the street, at the part where the roadway commenced to ascend.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The rounded, gray contours of the three large zinc wash tanks, studded with
+rivets, rose above the flat-roofed building. Behind them was the drying room, a
+high second story, closed in on all sides by narrow-slatted lattices so that
+the air could circulate freely, and through which laundry could be seen hanging
+on brass wires. The steam engine&rsquo;s smokestack exhaled puffs of white
+smoke to the right of the water tanks.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Gervaise was used to puddles and did not bother to tuck her skirts up before
+making her way through the doorway, which was cluttered with jars of bleaching
+water. She was already acquainted with the mistress of the wash-house, a
+delicate little woman with red, inflamed eyes, who sat in a small glazed closet
+with account books in front of her, bars of soap on shelves, balls of blue in
+glass bowls, and pounds of soda done up in packets; and, as she passed, she
+asked for her beetle and her scouring-brush, which she had left to be taken
+care of the last time she had done her washing there. Then, after obtaining her
+number, she entered the wash-house.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+It was an immense shed, with large clear windows, and a flat ceiling, showing
+the beams supported on cast-iron pillars. Pale rays of light passed through the
+hot steam, which remained suspended like a milky fog. Smoke arose from certain
+corners, spreading about and covering the recesses with a bluish veil. A heavy
+moisture hung around, impregnated with a soapy odor, a damp insipid smell,
+continuous though at moments overpowered by the more potent fumes of the
+chemicals. Along the washing-places, on either side of the central alley, were
+rows of women, with bare arms and necks, and skirts tucked up, showing colored
+stockings and heavy lace-up shoes. They were beating furiously, laughing,
+leaning back to call out a word in the midst of the din, or stooping over their
+tubs, all of them brutal, ungainly, foul of speech, and soaked as though by a
+shower, with their flesh red and reeking.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+All around the women continuously flowed a river from hot-water buckets emptied
+with a sudden splash, cold-water faucets left dripping, soap suds spattering,
+and the dripping from rinsed laundry which was hung up. It splashed their feet
+and drained away across the sloping flagstones. The din of the shouting and the
+rhythmic beating was joined by the patter of steady dripping. It was slightly
+muffled by the moisture-soaked ceiling. Meanwhile, the steam engine could be
+heard as it puffed and snorted ceaselessly while cloaked in its white mist. The
+dancing vibration of its flywheel seemed to regulate the volume of the noisy
+turbulence.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Gervaise passed slowly along the alley, looking to the right and left, carrying
+her laundry bundle under one arm, with one hip thrust high and limping more
+than usual. She was jostled by several women in the hubbub.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;This way, my dear!&rdquo; cried Madame Boche, in her loud voice. Then,
+when the young woman had joined her at the very end on the left, the concierge,
+who was furiously rubbing a dirty sock, began to talk incessantly, without
+leaving off her work. &ldquo;Put your things there, I&rsquo;ve kept your place.
+Oh, I sha&rsquo;n&rsquo;t be long over what I&rsquo;ve got. Boche scarcely
+dirties his things at all. And you, you won&rsquo;t be long either, will you?
+Your bundle&rsquo;s quite a little one. Before twelve o&rsquo;clock we shall
+have finished, and we can go off to lunch. I used to send my things to a
+laundress in the Rue Poulet, but she destroyed everything with her chlorine and
+her brushes; so now I do the washing myself. It&rsquo;s so much saved; it only
+costs the soap. I say, you should have put those shirts to soak. Those little
+rascals of children, on my word! One would think their bodies were covered with
+soot.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Gervaise, having undone her bundle, was spreading out the little ones&rsquo;
+shirts, and as Madame Boche advised her to take a pailful of lye, she answered,
+&ldquo;Oh, no! warm water will do. I&rsquo;m used to it.&rdquo; She had sorted
+her laundry with several colored pieces to one side. Then, after filling her
+tub with four pails of cold water from the tap behind her, she plunged her pile
+of whites into it.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;You&rsquo;re used to it?&rdquo; repeated Madame Boche. &ldquo;You were a
+washerwoman in your native place, weren&rsquo;t you, my dear?&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Gervaise, with her sleeves pushed back, displayed the graceful arms of a young
+blonde, as yet scarcely reddened at the elbows, and started scrubbing her
+laundry. She spread a shirt out on the narrow rubbing board which was
+water-bleached and eroded by years of use. She rubbed soap into the shirt,
+turned it over, and soaped the other side. Before replying to Madame Boche she
+grasped her beetle and began to pound away so that her shouted phrases were
+punctuated with loud and rhythmic thumps.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Yes, yes, a washerwoman&mdash;When I was ten&mdash;That&rsquo;s twelve
+years ago&mdash;We used to go to the river&mdash;It smelt nicer there than it
+does here&mdash;You should have seen, there was a nook under the trees, with
+clear running water&mdash;You know, at Plassans&mdash;Don&rsquo;t you know
+Plassans?&mdash;It&rsquo;s near Marseilles.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;How you go at it!&rdquo; exclaimed Madame Boche, amazed at the strength
+of her blows. &ldquo;You could flatten out a piece of iron with your little
+lady-like arms.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The conversation continued in a very high volume. At times, the concierge, not
+catching what was said, was obliged to lean forward. All the linen was beaten,
+and with a will! Gervaise plunged it into the tub again, and then took it out
+once more, each article separately, to rub it over with soap a second time and
+brush it. With one hand she held the article firmly on the plank; with the
+other, which grasped the short couch-grass brush, she extracted from the linen
+a dirty lather, which fell in long drips. Then, in the slight noise caused by
+the brush, the two women drew together, and conversed in a more intimate way.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;No, we&rsquo;re not married,&rdquo; resumed Gervaise. &ldquo;I
+don&rsquo;t hide it. Lantier isn&rsquo;t so nice for any one to care to be his
+wife. If it weren&rsquo;t for the children! I was fourteen and he was eighteen
+when we had our first one. It happened in the usual way, you know how it is. I
+wasn&rsquo;t happy at home. Old man Macquart would kick me in the tail whenever
+he felt like it, for no reason at all. I had to have some fun outside. We might
+have been married, but&mdash;I forget why&mdash;our parents wouldn&rsquo;t
+consent.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+She shook her hands, which were growing red in the white suds. &ldquo;The
+water&rsquo;s awfully hard in Paris.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Madame Boche was now washing only very slowly. She kept leaving off, making her
+work last as long as she could, so as to remain there, to listen to that story,
+which her curiosity had been hankering to know for a fortnight past. Her mouth
+was half open in the midst of her big, fat face; her eyes, which were almost at
+the top of her head, were gleaming. She was thinking, with the satisfaction of
+having guessed right.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;That&rsquo;s it, the little one gossips too much. There&rsquo;s been a
+row.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Then, she observed out loud, &ldquo;He isn&rsquo;t nice, then?&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Don&rsquo;t mention it!&rdquo; replied Gervaise. &ldquo;He used to
+behave very well in the country; but, since we&rsquo;ve been in Paris,
+he&rsquo;s been unbearable. I must tell you that his mother died last year and
+left him some money&mdash;about seventeen hundred francs. He would come to
+Paris, so, as old Macquart was forever knocking me about without warning, I
+consented to come away with him. We made the journey with two children. He was
+to set me up as a laundress, and work himself at his trade of a hatter. We
+should have been very happy; but, you see, Lantier&rsquo;s ambitious and a
+spendthrift, a fellow who only thinks of amusing himself. In short, he&rsquo;s
+not worth much. On arriving, we went to the Hotel Montmartre, in the Rue
+Montmartre. And then there were dinners, and cabs, and the theatre; a watch for
+himself and a silk dress for me, for he&rsquo;s not unkind when he&rsquo;s got
+the money. You understand, he went in for everything, and so well that at the
+end of two months we were cleaned out. It was then that we came to live at the
+Hotel Boncoeur, and that this horrible life began.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+She interrupted herself. A lump had suddenly risen in her throat, and she could
+scarcely restrain her tears. She had finished brushing the things.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;I must go and fetch my hot water,&rdquo; she murmured.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+But Madame Boche, greatly disappointed at this break off in the disclosures,
+called to the wash-house boy, who was passing, &ldquo;My little Charles, kindly
+get madame a pail of hot water; she&rsquo;s in a hurry.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The youth took the bucket and brought it back filled. Gervaise paid him; it was
+a sou the pailful. She poured the hot water into the tub, and soaped the things
+a last time with her hands, leaning over them in a mass of steam, which
+deposited small beads of grey vapor in her light hair.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Here put some soda in, I&rsquo;ve got some by me,&rdquo; said the
+concierge, obligingly.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+And she emptied into Gervaise&rsquo;s tub what remained of a bag of soda which
+she had brought with her. She also offered her some of the chemical water, but
+the young woman declined it; it was only good for grease and wine stains.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;I think he&rsquo;s rather a loose fellow,&rdquo; resumed Madame Boche,
+returning to Lantier, but without naming him.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Gervaise, bent almost double, her hands all shriveled, and thrust in amongst
+the clothes, merely tossed her head.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Yes, yes,&rdquo; continued the other, &ldquo;I have noticed several
+little things&mdash;&rdquo; But she suddenly interrupted herself, as Gervaise
+jumped up, with a pale face, and staring wildly at her. Then she exclaimed,
+&ldquo;Oh, no! I don&rsquo;t know anything! He likes to laugh a bit, I think,
+that&rsquo;s all. For instance, you know the two girls who lodge at my place,
+Adele and Virginie. Well, he larks about with &rsquo;em, but he just flirts for
+sport.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The young woman standing before her, her face covered with perspiration, the
+water dripping from her arms, continued to stare at her with a fixed and
+penetrating look. Then the concierge got excited, giving herself a blow on the
+chest, and pledging her word of honor, she cried:
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;I know nothing, I mean it when I say so!&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Then calming herself, she added in a gentle voice, as if speaking to a person
+on whom loud protestations would have no effect, &ldquo;I think he has a frank
+look about the eyes. He&rsquo;ll marry you, my dear, I&rsquo;m sure of
+it.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Gervaise wiped her forehead with her wet hand. Shaking her head again, she
+pulled another garment out of the water. Both of them kept silence for a
+moment. The wash-house was quieting down, for eleven o&rsquo;clock had struck.
+Half of the washerwomen were perched on the edge of their tubs, eating sausages
+between slices of bread and drinking from open bottles of wine. Only housewives
+who had come to launder small bundles of family linen were hurrying to finish.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Occasional beetle blows could still be heard amid the subdued laughter and
+gossip half-choked by the greedy chewing of jawbones. The steam engine never
+stopped. Its vibrant, snorting voice seemed to fill the entire hall, though not
+one of the women even heard it. It was like the breathing of the wash-house,
+its hot breath collecting under the ceiling rafters in an eternal floating
+mist.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The heat was becoming intolerable. Through the tall windows on the left
+sunlight was streaming in, touching the steamy vapors with opalescent tints of
+soft pinks and grayish blues. Charles went from window to window, letting down
+the heavy canvas awnings. Then he crossed to the shady side to open the
+ventilators. He was applauded by cries and hand clapping and a rough sort of
+gaiety spread around. Soon even the last of the beetle-pounding stopped.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+With full mouths, the washerwomen could only make gestures. It became so quiet
+that the grating sound of the fireman shoveling coal into the engine&rsquo;s
+firebox could be heard at regular intervals from far at the other end.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Gervaise was washing her colored things in the hot water thick with lather,
+which she had kept for the purpose. When she had finished, she drew a trestle
+towards her and hung across it all the different articles; the drippings from
+which made bluish puddles on the floor; and she commenced rinsing. Behind her,
+the cold water tap was set running into a vast tub fixed to the ground, and
+across which were two wooden bars whereon to lay the clothes. High up in the
+air were two other bars for the things to finish dripping on.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;We&rsquo;re almost finished, and not a bad job,&rdquo; said Madame
+Boche. &ldquo;I&rsquo;ll wait and help you wring all that.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Oh! it&rsquo;s not worth while; I&rsquo;m much obliged though,&rdquo;
+replied the young woman, who was kneading with her hands and sousing the
+colored things in some clean water. &ldquo;If I&rsquo;d any sheets, it would be
+another thing.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+But she had, however, to accept the concierge&rsquo;s assistance. They were
+wringing between them, one at each end, a woolen skirt of a washed-out chestnut
+color, from which dribbled a yellowish water, when Madame Boche exclaimed:
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Why, there&rsquo;s tall Virginie! What has she come here to wash, when
+all her wardrobe that isn&rsquo;t on her would go into a pocket
+handkerchief?&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Gervaise jerked her head up. Virginie was a girl of her own age, taller than
+she was, dark and pretty in spite of her face being rather long and narrow. She
+had on an old black dress with flounces, and a red ribbon round her neck; and
+her hair was done up carefully, the chignon being enclosed in a blue silk net.
+She stood an instant in the middle of the central alley, screwing up her eyes
+as though seeking someone; then, when she caught sight of Gervaise, she passed
+close to her, erect, insolent, and with a swinging gait, and took a place in
+the same row, five tubs away from her.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;There&rsquo;s a freak for you!&rdquo; continued Madame Boche in a lower
+tone of voice. &ldquo;She never does any laundry, not even a pair of cuffs. A
+seamstress who doesn&rsquo;t even sew on a loose button! She&rsquo;s just like
+her sister, the brass burnisher, that hussy Adele, who stays away from her job
+two days out of three. Nobody knows who their folks are or how they make a
+living. Though, if I wanted to talk . . . What on earth is she scrubbing there?
+A filthy petticoat. I&rsquo;ll wager it&rsquo;s seen some lovely sights, that
+petticoat!&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Madame Boche was evidently trying to make herself agreeable to Gervaise. The
+truth was she often took a cup of coffee with Adele and Virginia, when the
+girls had any money. Gervaise did not answer, but hurried over her work with
+feverish hands. She had just prepared her blue in a little tub that stood on
+three legs. She dipped in the linen things, and shook them an instant at the
+bottom of the colored water, the reflection of which had a pinky tinge; and
+after wringing them lightly, she spread them out on the wooden bars up above.
+During the time she was occupied with this work, she made a point of turning
+her back on Virginie. But she heard her chuckles; she could feel her sidelong
+glances. Virginie appeared only to have come there to provoke her. At one
+moment, Gervaise having turned around, they both stared into each other&rsquo;s
+faces.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Leave her alone,&rdquo; whispered Madame Boche. &ldquo;You&rsquo;re not
+going to pull each other&rsquo;s hair out, I hope. When I tell you
+there&rsquo;s nothing to it! It isn&rsquo;t her, anyhow!&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+At this moment, as the young woman was hanging up the last article of clothing,
+there was a sound of laughter at the door of the wash-house.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Here are two brats who want their mamma!&rdquo; cried Charles.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+All the women leant forward. Gervaise recognized Claude and Etienne. As soon as
+they caught sight of her, they ran to her through the puddles, the heels of
+their unlaced shoes resounding on the flagstones. Claude, the eldest, held his
+little brother by the hand. The women, as they passed them, uttered little
+exclamations of affection as they noticed their frightened though smiling
+faces. And they stood there, in front of their mother, without leaving go of
+each other&rsquo;s hands, and holding their fair heads erect.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Has papa sent you?&rdquo; asked Gervaise.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+But as she stooped to tie the laces of Etienne&rsquo;s shoes, she saw the key
+of their room on one of Claude&rsquo;s fingers, with the brass number hanging
+from it.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Why, you&rsquo;ve brought the key!&rdquo; she said, greatly surprised.
+&ldquo;What&rsquo;s that for?&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The child, seeing the key which he had forgotten on his finger, appeared to
+recollect, and exclaimed in his clear voice:
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Papa&rsquo;s gone away.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;He&rsquo;s gone to buy the lunch, and told you to come here to fetch
+me?&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Claude looked at his brother, hesitated, no longer recollecting. Then he
+resumed all in a breath: &ldquo;Papa&rsquo;s gone away. He jumped off the bed,
+he put all the things in the trunk, he carried the trunk down to a cab.
+He&rsquo;s gone away.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Gervaise, who was squatting down, slowly rose to her feet, her face ghastly
+pale. She put her hands to her cheeks and temples, as though she felt her head
+was breaking; and she could find only these words, which she repeated twenty
+times in the same tone of voice:
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Ah! good heavens!&mdash;ah! good heavens!&mdash;ah! good heavens!&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Madame Boche, however, also questioned the child, quite delighted at the chance
+of hearing the whole story.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Come, little one, you must tell us just what happened. It was he who
+locked the door and who told you to bring the key, wasn&rsquo;t it?&rdquo; And,
+lowering her voice, she whispered in Claude&rsquo;s ear: &ldquo;Was there a
+lady in the cab?&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The child again got confused. Then he recommenced his story in a triumphant
+manner: &ldquo;He jumped off the bed, he put all the things in the trunk.
+He&rsquo;s gone away.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Then, when Madame Boche let him go, he drew his brother in front of the tap,
+and they amused themselves by turning on the water. Gervaise was unable to cry.
+She was choking, leaning back against her tub, her face still buried in her
+hands. Brief shudders rocked her body and she wailed out long sighs while
+pressing her hands tighter against her eyes, as though abandoning herself to
+the blackness of desolation, a dark, deep pit into which she seemed to be
+falling.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Come, my dear, pull yourself together!&rdquo; murmured Madame Boche.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;If you only knew! If you only knew!&rdquo; said she at length very
+faintly. &ldquo;He sent me this morning to pawn my shawl and my chemises to pay
+for that cab.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+And she burst out crying. The memory of the events of that morning and of her
+trip to the pawn-place tore from her the sobs that had been choking her throat.
+That abominable trip to the pawn-place was the thing that hurt most in all her
+sorrow and despair. Tears were streaming down her face but she didn&rsquo;t
+think of using her handkerchief.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Be reasonable, do be quiet, everyone&rsquo;s looking at you,&rdquo;
+Madame Boche, who hovered round her, kept repeating. &ldquo;How can you worry
+yourself so much on account of a man? You loved him, then, all the same, did
+you, my poor darling? A little while ago you were saying all sorts of things
+against him; and now you&rsquo;re crying for him, and almost breaking your
+heart. Dear me, how silly we all are!&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Then she became quite maternal.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;A pretty little woman like you! Can it be possible? One may tell you
+everything now, I suppose. Well! You recollect when I passed under your window,
+I already had my suspicions. Just fancy, last night, when Adele came home, I
+heard a man&rsquo;s footsteps with hers. So I thought I would see who it was. I
+looked up the staircase. The fellow was already on the second landing; but I
+certainly recognized Monsieur Lantier&rsquo;s overcoat. Boche, who was on the
+watch this morning, saw him tranquilly nod adieu. He was with Adele, you know.
+Virginie has a situation now, where she goes twice a week. Only it&rsquo;s
+highly imprudent all the same, for they&rsquo;ve only one room and an alcove,
+and I can&rsquo;t very well say where Virginie managed to sleep.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+She interrupted herself an instant, turned round, and then resumed, subduing
+her loud voice:
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;She&rsquo;s laughing at seeing you cry, that heartless thing over there.
+I&rsquo;d stake my life that her washing&rsquo;s all a pretence. She&rsquo;s
+packed off the other two, and she&rsquo;s come here so as to tell them how you
+take it.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Gervaise removed her hands from her face and looked. When she beheld Virginie
+in front of her, amidst three or four women, speaking low and staring at her,
+she was seized with a mad rage. Her arms in front of her, searching the ground,
+she stumbled forward a few paces. Trembling all over, she found a bucket full
+of water, grabbed it with both hands, and emptied it at Virginie.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;The virago!&rdquo; yelled tall Virginie.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+She had stepped back, and her boots alone got wet. The other women, who for
+some minutes past had all been greatly upset by Gervaise&rsquo;s tears, jostled
+each other in their anxiety to see the fight. Some, who were finishing their
+lunch, got on the tops of their tubs. Others hastened forward, their hands
+smothered with soap. A ring was formed.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Ah! the virago!&rdquo; repeated tall Virginie. &ldquo;What&rsquo;s the
+matter with her? She&rsquo;s mad!&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Gervaise, standing on the defensive, her chin thrust out, her features
+convulsed, said nothing, not having yet acquired the Paris gift of street gab.
+The other continued:
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Get out! This girl&rsquo;s tired of wallowing about in the country; she
+wasn&rsquo;t twelve years old when the soldiers were at her. She even lost her
+leg serving her country. That leg&rsquo;s rotting off.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The lookers-on burst out laughing. Virginie, seeing her success, advanced a
+couple of steps, drawing herself up to her full height, and yelling louder than
+ever:
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Here! Come a bit nearer, just to see how I&rsquo;ll settle you!
+Don&rsquo;t you come annoying us here. Do I even know her, the hussy? If
+she&rsquo;d wetted me, I&rsquo;d have pretty soon shown her battle, as
+you&rsquo;d have seen. Let her just say what I&rsquo;ve ever done to her.
+Speak, you vixen; what&rsquo;s been done to you?&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Don&rsquo;t talk so much,&rdquo; stammered Gervaise. &ldquo;You know
+well enough. Some one saw my husband last night. And shut up, because if you
+don&rsquo;t I&rsquo;ll most certainly strangle you.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Her husband! That&rsquo;s a good one! As if cripples like her had
+husbands! If he&rsquo;s left you it&rsquo;s not my fault. Surely you
+don&rsquo;t think I&rsquo;ve stolen him, do you? He was much too good for you
+and you made him sick. Did you keep him on a leash? Has anyone here seen her
+husband? There&rsquo;s a reward.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The laughter burst forth again. Gervaise contented herself with continually
+murmuring in a low tone of voice:
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;You know well enough, you know well enough. It&rsquo;s your sister.
+I&rsquo;ll strangle her&mdash;your sister.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Yes, go and try it on with my sister,&rdquo; resumed Virginie
+sneeringly. &ldquo;Ah! it&rsquo;s my sister! That&rsquo;s very likely. My
+sister looks a trifle different to you; but what&rsquo;s that to me?
+Can&rsquo;t one come and wash one&rsquo;s clothes in peace now? Just dry up,
+d&rsquo;ye hear, because I&rsquo;ve had enough of it!&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+But it was she who returned to the attack, after giving five or six strokes
+with her beetle, intoxicated by the insults she had been giving utterance to,
+and worked up into a passion. She left off and recommenced again, speaking in
+this way three times:
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Well, yes! it&rsquo;s my sister. There now, does that satisfy you? They
+adore each other. You should just see them bill and coo! And he&rsquo;s left
+you with your children. Those pretty kids with scabs all over their faces! You
+got one of them from a gendarme, didn&rsquo;t you? And you let three others die
+because you didn&rsquo;t want to pay excess baggage on your journey. It&rsquo;s
+your Lantier who told us that. Ah! he&rsquo;s been telling some fine things;
+he&rsquo;d had enough of you!&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;You dirty jade! You dirty jade! You dirty jade!&rdquo; yelled Gervaise,
+beside herself, and again seized with a furious trembling. She turned round,
+looking once more about the ground; and only observing the little tub, she
+seized hold of it by the legs, and flung the whole of the bluing at
+Virginie&rsquo;s face.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;The beast! She&rsquo;s spoilt my dress!&rdquo; cried the latter, whose
+shoulder was sopping wet and whose left hand was dripping blue. &ldquo;Just
+wait, you wretch!&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+In her turn she seized a bucket, and emptied it over Gervaise. Then a
+formidable battle began. They both ran along the rows of tubs, seized hold of
+the pails that were full, and returned to dash the contents at each
+other&rsquo;s heads. And each deluge was accompanied by a volley of words.
+Gervaise herself answered now:
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;There, you scum! You got it that time. It&rsquo;ll help to cool
+you.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Ah! the carrion! That&rsquo;s for your filth. Wash yourself for once in
+your life.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Yes, yes, I&rsquo;ll wash the salt out of you, you cod!&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Another one! Brush your teeth, fix yourself up for your post to-night at
+the corner of the Rue Belhomme.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+They ended by having to refill the buckets at the water taps, continuing to
+insult each other the while. The initial bucketfuls were so poorly aimed as to
+scarcely reach their targets, but they soon began to splash each other in
+earnest. Virginie was the first to receive a bucketful in the face. The water
+ran down, soaking her back and front. She was still staggering when another
+caught her from the side, hitting her left ear and drenching her chignon which
+then came unwound into a limp, bedraggled string of hair.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Gervaise was hit first in the legs. One pail filled her shoes full of water and
+splashed up to her thighs. Two more wet her even higher. Soon both of them were
+soaked from top to bottom and it was impossible to count the hits. Their
+clothes were plastered to their bodies and they looked shrunken. Water was
+dripping everywhere as from umbrellas in a rainstorm.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;They look jolly funny!&rdquo; said the hoarse voice of one of the women.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Everyone in the wash-house was highly amused. A good space was left to the
+combatants, as nobody cared to get splashed. Applause and jokes circulated in
+the midst of the sluice-like noise of the buckets emptied in rapid succession!
+On the floor the puddles were running one into another, and the two women were
+wading in them up to their ankles. Virginie, however, who had been meditating a
+treacherous move, suddenly seized hold of a pail of lye, which one of her
+neighbors had left there and threw it. The same cry arose from all. Everyone
+thought Gervaise was scalded; but only her left foot had been slightly touched.
+And, exasperated by the pain, she seized a bucket, without troubling herself to
+fill it this time, and threw it with all her might at the legs of Virginie, who
+fell to the ground. All the women spoke together.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;She&rsquo;s broken one of her limbs!&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Well, the other tried to cook her!&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;She&rsquo;s right, after all, the blonde one, if her man&rsquo;s been
+taken from her!&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Madame Boche held up her arms to heaven, uttering all sorts of exclamations.
+She had prudently retreated out of the way between two tubs; and the children,
+Claude and Etienne, crying, choking, terrified, clung to her dress with the
+continuous cry of &ldquo;Mamma! Mamma!&rdquo; broken by their sobs. When she
+saw Virginie fall she hastened forward, and tried to pull Gervaise away by her
+skirt, repeating the while,
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Come now, go home! Be reasonable. On my word, it&rsquo;s quite upset me.
+Never was such a butchery seen before.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+But she had to draw back and seek refuge again between the two tubs, with the
+children. Virginie had just flown at Gervaise&rsquo;s throat. She squeezed her
+round the neck, trying to strangle her. The latter freed herself with a violent
+jerk, and in her turn hung on to the other&rsquo;s hair, as though she was
+trying to pull her head off. The battle was silently resumed, without a cry,
+without an insult. They did not seize each other round the body, they attacked
+each other&rsquo;s faces with open hands and clawing fingers, pinching,
+scratching whatever they caught hold of. The tall, dark girl&rsquo;s red ribbon
+and blue silk hair net were torn off. The body of her dress, giving way at the
+neck, displayed a large portion of her shoulder; whilst the blonde, half
+stripped, a sleeve gone from her loose white jacket without her knowing how,
+had a rent in her underlinen, which exposed to view the naked line of her
+waist. Shreds of stuff flew in all directions. It was from Gervaise that the
+first blood was drawn, three long scratches from the mouth to the chin; and she
+sought to protect her eyes, shutting them at every grab the other made, for
+fear of having them torn out. No blood showed on Virginie as yet. Gervaise
+aimed at her ears, maddened at not being able to reach them. At length she
+succeeded in seizing hold of one of the earrings&mdash;an imitation pear in
+yellow glass&mdash;which she pulled out and slit the ear, and the blood flowed.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;They&rsquo;re killing each other! Separate them, the vixens!&rdquo;
+exclaimed several voices.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The other women had drawn nearer. They formed themselves into two camps. Some
+were cheering the combatants on as the others were trembling and turning their
+heads away saying that it was making them sick. A large fight nearly broke out
+between the two camps as the women called each other names and brandished their
+fists threateningly. Three loud slaps rang out.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Madame Boche, meanwhile, was trying to discover the wash-house boy.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Charles! Charles! Wherever has he got to?&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+And she found him in the front rank, looking on with his arms folded. He was a
+big fellow, with an enormous neck. He was laughing and enjoying the sight of
+the skin which the two women displayed. The little blonde was as fat as a
+quail. It would be fun if her chemise burst open.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Why,&rdquo; murmured he, blinking his eye, &ldquo;she&rsquo;s got a
+strawberry birthmark under her arm.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;What! You&rsquo;re there!&rdquo; cried Madame Boche, as she caught sight
+of him. &ldquo;Just come and help us separate them. You can easily separate
+them, you can!&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Oh, no! thank you, not if I know it,&rdquo; said he coolly. &ldquo;To
+get my eye scratched like I did the other day, I suppose! I&rsquo;m not here
+for that sort of thing; I have enough to do without that. Don&rsquo;t be
+afraid, a little bleeding does &rsquo;em good; it&rsquo;ll soften
+&rsquo;em.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The concierge then talked of fetching the police; but the mistress of the
+wash-house, the delicate young woman with the red, inflamed eyes, would not
+allow her to do this. She kept saying:
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;No, no, I won&rsquo;t; it&rsquo;ll compromise my establishment.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The struggle on the ground continued. All on a sudden, Virginie raised herself
+up on her knees. She had just gotten hold of a beetle and held it on high. She
+had a rattle in her throat and in an altered voice, she exclaimed,
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Here&rsquo;s something that&rsquo;ll settle you! Get your dirty linen
+ready!&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Gervaise quickly thrust out her hand, and also seized a beetle, and held it up
+like a club; and she too spoke in a choking voice,
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Ah! you want to wash. Let me get hold of your skin that I may beat it
+into dish-cloths!&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+For a moment they remained there, on their knees, menacing each other. Their
+hair all over their faces, their breasts heaving, muddy, swelling with rage,
+they watched one another, as they waited and took breath. Gervaise gave the
+first blow. Her beetle glided off Virginie&rsquo;s shoulder, and she at once
+threw herself on one side to avoid the latter&rsquo;s beetle, which grazed her
+hip. Then, warming to their work they struck at each other like washerwomen
+beating clothes, roughly, and in time. Whenever there was a hit, the sound was
+deadened, so that one might have thought it a blow in a tub full of water. The
+other women around them no longer laughed. Several had gone off saying that it
+quite upset them; those who remained stretched out their necks, their eyes
+lighted up with a gleam of cruelty, admiring the pluck displayed. Madame Boche
+had led Claude and Etienne away, and one could hear at the other end of the
+building the sound of their sobs, mingled with the sonorous shocks of the two
+beetles. But Gervaise suddenly yelled. Virginie had caught her a whack with all
+her might on her bare arm, just above the elbow. A large red mark appeared, the
+flesh at once began to swell. Then she threw herself upon Virginie, and
+everyone thought she was going to beat her to death.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Enough! Enough!&rdquo; was cried on all sides.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Her face bore such a terrible expression, that no one dared approach her. Her
+strength seemed to have increased tenfold. She seized Virginie round the waist,
+bent her down and pressed her face against the flagstones. Raising her beetle
+she commenced beating as she used to beat at Plassans, on the banks of the
+Viorne, when her mistress washed the clothes of the garrison. The wood seemed
+to yield to the flesh with a damp sound. At each whack a red weal marked the
+white skin.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Oh, oh!&rdquo; exclaimed the boy Charles, opening his eyes to their full
+extent and gloating over the sight.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Laughter again burst forth from the lookers-on, but soon the cry,
+&ldquo;Enough! Enough!&rdquo; recommenced. Gervaise heard not, neither did she
+tire. She examined her work, bent over it, anxious not to leave a dry place.
+She wanted to see the whole of that skin beaten, covered with contusions. And
+she talked, seized with a ferocious gaiety, recalling a washerwoman&rsquo;s
+song,
+</p>
+
+<p class="poem">
+&ldquo;Bang! Bang! Margot at her tub.<br/>
+Bang! Bang! Beating rub-a-dub.<br/>
+Bang! Bang! Tries to wash her heart.<br/>
+Bang! Bang! Black with grief to part.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+And then she resumed,
+</p>
+
+<p class="poem">
+&ldquo;That&rsquo;s for you, that&rsquo;s for your sister.<br/>
+That&rsquo;s for Lantier.<br/>
+When you next see them,<br/>
+You can give them that.<br/>
+Attention! I&rsquo;m going to begin again.<br/>
+That&rsquo;s for Lantier, that&rsquo;s for your sister.<br/>
+That&rsquo;s for you.<br/>
+Bang! Bang! Margot at her tub.<br/>
+Bang! Bang! Beating rub-a-dub&mdash;&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The others were obliged to drag Virginie away from her. The tall, dark girl,
+her face bathed in tears and purple with shame, picked up her things and
+hastened away. She was vanquished. Gervaise slipped on the sleeve of her jacket
+again, and fastened up her petticoats. Her arm pained her a good deal, and she
+asked Madame Boche to place her bundle of clothes on her shoulder. The
+concierge referred to the battle, spoke of her emotions, and talked of
+examining the young woman&rsquo;s person, just to see.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;You may, perhaps, have something broken. I heard a tremendous
+blow.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+But Gervaise wanted to go home. She made no reply to the pitying remarks and
+noisy ovation of the other women who surrounded her, erect in their aprons.
+When she was laden she gained the door, where the children awaited her.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Two hours, that makes two sous,&rdquo; said the mistress of the
+wash-house, already back at her post in the glazed closet.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Why two sous? She no longer understood that she was asked to pay for her place
+there. Then she gave the two sous; and limping very much beneath the weight of
+the wet clothes on her shoulder, the water dripping from off her, her elbow
+black and blue, her cheek covered with blood, she went off, dragging Claude and
+Etienne with her bare arms, whilst they trotted along on either side of her,
+still trembling, and their faces besmeared with their tears.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Once she was gone, the wash-house resumed its roaring tumult. The washerwomen
+had eaten their bread and drunk their wine. Their faces were lit up and their
+spirits enlivened by the fight between Gervaise and Virginie.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The long lines of tubs were astir again with the fury of thrashing arms, of
+craggy profiles, of marionettes with bent backs and slumping shoulders that
+twisted and jerked violently as though on hinges. Conversations went on from
+one end to the other in loud voices. Laughter and coarse remarks crackled
+through the ceaseless gurgling of the water. Faucets were sputtering, buckets
+spilling, rivulets flowing underneath the rows of washboards. Throughout the
+huge shed rising wisps of steam reflected a reddish tint, pierced here and
+there by disks of sunlight, golden globes that had leaked through holes in the
+awnings. The air was stiflingly warm and odorous with soap.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Suddenly the hall was filled with a white mist. The huge copper lid of the
+lye-water kettle was rising mechanically along a notched shaft, and from the
+gaping copper hollow within its wall of bricks came whirling clouds of vapor.
+Meanwhile, at one side the drying machines were hard at work; within their
+cast-iron cylinders bundles of laundry were being wrung dry by the centrifugal
+force of the steam engine, which was still puffing, steaming, jolting the
+wash-house with the ceaseless labor of its iron limbs.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+When Gervaise turned into the entry of the Hotel Boncoeur, her tears again
+mastered her. It was a dark, narrow passage, with a gutter for the dirty water
+running alongside the wall; and the stench which she again encountered there
+caused her to think of the fortnight she had passed in the place with
+Lantier&mdash;a fortnight of misery and quarrels, the recollection of which was
+now a bitter regret. It seemed to bring her abandonment home to her.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Upstairs the room was bare, in spite of the sunshine which entered through the
+open window. That blaze of light, that kind of dancing golden dust, exposed the
+lamentable condition of the blackened ceiling, and of the walls half denuded of
+paper, all the more. The only thing left hanging in the room was a
+woman&rsquo;s small neckerchief, twisted like a piece of string. The
+children&rsquo;s bedstead, drawn into the middle of the apartment, displayed
+the chest of drawers, the open drawers of which exposed their emptiness.
+Lantier had washed himself and had used up the last of the pomatum&mdash;two
+sous&rsquo; worth of pomatum in a playing card; the greasy water from his hands
+filled the basin. And he had forgotten nothing. The corner which until then had
+been filled by the trunk seemed to Gervaise an immense empty space. Even the
+little mirror which hung on the window-fastening was gone. When she made this
+discovery, she had a presentiment. She looked on the mantel-piece. Lantier had
+taken away the pawn tickets; the pink bundle was no longer there, between the
+two odd zinc candlesticks.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+She hung her laundry over the back of a chair and just stood there, gazing
+around at the furniture. She was so dulled and bewildered that she could no
+longer cry. She had only one sou left. Then, hearing Claude and Etienne
+laughing merrily by the window, their troubles already forgotten, she went to
+them and put her arms about them, losing herself for a moment in contemplation
+of that long gray avenue where, that very morning, she had watched the
+awakening of the working population, of the immense work-shop of Paris.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+At this hour immense heat was rising from the pavement and from all the
+furnaces in the factories, setting alight a reflecting oven over the city and
+beyond the octroi wall. Out upon this very pavement, into this furnace blast,
+she had been tossed, alone with her little ones. As she glanced up and down the
+boulevard, she was seized with a dull dread that her life would be fixed there
+forever, between a slaughter-house and a hospital.
+</p>
+
+</div><!--end chapter-->
+
+<div class="chapter">
+
+<h2><a name="link2HCH0002" id="link2HCH0002"></a>
+CHAPTER II.</h2>
+
+<p>
+Three weeks later, towards half-past eleven, one beautiful sunshiny day,
+Gervaise and Coupeau, the zinc-worker, were each partaking of a plum preserved
+in brandy, at &ldquo;l&rsquo;Assommoir&rdquo; kept by Pere Colombe. Coupeau,
+who had been smoking a cigarette on the pavement, had prevailed on her to go
+inside as she returned from taking home a customer&rsquo;s washing; and her big
+square laundress&rsquo;s basket was on the floor beside her, behind the little
+zinc covered table.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Pere Colombe&rsquo;s l&rsquo;Assommoir was at the corner of Rue des
+Poissonniers and Boulevard de Rochechouart. The sign, in tall blue letters
+stretching from one end to the other said: Distillery. Two dusty oleanders
+planted in half casks stood beside the doorway. A long bar with its tin
+measuring cups was on the left as you entered. The large room was decorated
+with casks painted a gay yellow, bright with varnish, and gleaming with copper
+taps and hoops.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+On the shelves above the bar were liquor bottles, jars of fruit preserved in
+brandy, and flasks of all shapes. They completely covered the wall and were
+reflected in the mirror behind the bar as colorful spots of apple green, pale
+gold, and soft brown. The main feature of the establishment, however, was the
+distilling apparatus. It was at the rear, behind an oak railing in a glassed-in
+area. The customers could watch its functioning, long-necked still-pots, copper
+worms disappearing underground, a devil&rsquo;s kitchen alluring to
+drink-sodden work men in search of pleasant dreams.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+L&rsquo;Assommoir was nearly empty at the lunch hour. Pere Colombe, a heavy man
+of forty, was serving a ten year old girl who had asked him to place four
+sous&rsquo; worth of brandy into her cup. A shaft of sunlight came through the
+entrance to warm the floor which was always damp from the smokers&rsquo;
+spitting. From everything, the casks, the bar, the entire room, a liquorish
+odor arose, an alcoholic aroma which seemed to thicken and befuddle the dust
+motes dancing in the sunlight.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Coupeau was making another cigarette. He was very neat, in a short blue linen
+blouse and cap, and was laughing and showing his white teeth. With a projecting
+under jaw and a slightly snub nose, he had handsome chestnut eyes, and the face
+of a jolly dog and a thorough good fellow. His coarse curly hair stood erect.
+His skin still preserved the softness of his twenty-six years. Opposite to him,
+Gervaise, in a thin black woolen dress, and bareheaded, was finishing her plum
+which she held by the stalk between the tips of her fingers. They were close to
+the street, at the first of the four tables placed alongside the barrels facing
+the bar.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+When the zinc-worker had lit his cigarette, he placed his elbows on the table,
+thrust his face forward, and for an instant looked without speaking at the
+young woman, whose pretty fair face had that day the milky transparency of
+china. Then, alluding to a matter known to themselves alone, and already
+discussed between them, he simply asked in a low voice:
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;So it&rsquo;s to be &lsquo;no&rsquo;? you say &lsquo;no&rsquo;?&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Oh! most decidedly &lsquo;no&rsquo; Monsieur Coupeau,&rdquo; quietly
+replied Gervaise with a smile. &ldquo;I hope you&rsquo;re not going to talk to
+me about that here. You know you promised me you would be reasonable. Had I
+known, I wouldn&rsquo;t have let you treat me.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Coupeau kept silence, looking at her intently with a boldness. She sat still,
+at ease and friendly. At the end of a brief silence she added:
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;You can&rsquo;t really mean it. I&rsquo;m an old woman; I&rsquo;ve a big
+boy eight years old. Whatever could we two do together?&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Why!&rdquo; murmured Coupeau, blinking his eyes, &ldquo;what the others
+do, of course, get married!&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+She made a gesture of feeling annoyed. &ldquo;Oh! do you think it&rsquo;s
+always pleasant? One can very well see you&rsquo;ve never seen much of living.
+No, Monsieur Coupeau, I must think of serious things. Burdening oneself never
+leads to anything, you know! I&rsquo;ve two mouths at home which are never
+tired of swallowing, I can tell you! How do you suppose I can bring up my
+little ones, if I only sit here talking indolently? And listen, besides that,
+my misfortune has been a famous lesson to me. You know I don&rsquo;t care a bit
+about men now. They won&rsquo;t catch me again for a long while.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+She spoke with such cool objectivity that it was clear she had resolved this in
+her mind, turning it about thoroughly.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Coupeau was deeply moved and kept repeating: &ldquo;I feel so sorry for you. It
+causes me a great deal of pain.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Yes, I know that,&rdquo; resumed she, &ldquo;and I am sorry, Monsieur
+Coupeau. But you mustn&rsquo;t take it to heart. If I had any idea of enjoying
+myself, <i>mon Dieu!</i>, I would certainly rather be with you than anyone
+else. You&rsquo;re a good boy and gentle. Only, where&rsquo;s the use, as
+I&rsquo;ve no inclination to wed? I&rsquo;ve been for the last fortnight, now,
+at Madame Fauconnier&rsquo;s. The children go to school. I&rsquo;ve work,
+I&rsquo;m contented. So the best is to remain as we are, isn&rsquo;t it?&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+And she stooped down to take her basket.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;You&rsquo;re making me talk; they must be expecting me at the shop.
+You&rsquo;ll easily find someone else prettier than I, Monsieur Coupeau, and
+who won&rsquo;t have two boys to drag about with her.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+He looked at the clock inserted in the frame-work of the mirror, and made her
+sit down again, exclaiming:
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Don&rsquo;t be in such a hurry! It&rsquo;s only eleven thirty-five.
+I&rsquo;ve still twenty-five minutes. You don&rsquo;t have to be afraid that I
+shall do anything foolish; there&rsquo;s the table between us. So you detest me
+so much that you won&rsquo;t stay and have a little chat with me.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+She put her basket down again, so as not to disoblige him; and they conversed
+like good friends. She had eaten her lunch before going out with the laundry.
+He had gulped down his soup and beef hurriedly to be able to wait for her. All
+the while she chatted amiably, Gervaise kept looking out the window at the
+activity on the street. It was now unusually crowded with the lunch time rush.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Everywhere were hurried steps, swinging arms, and pushing elbows. Some late
+comers, hungry and angry at being kept extra long at the job, rushed across the
+street into the bakery. They emerged with a loaf of bread and went three doors
+farther to the Two-Headed Calf to gobble down a six-sou meat dish.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Next door to the bakery was a grocer who sold fried potatoes and mussels cooked
+with parsley. A procession of girls went in to get hot potatoes wrapped in
+paper and cups of steaming mussels. Other pretty girls bought bunches of
+radishes. By leaning a bit, Gervaise could see into the sausage shop from which
+children issued, holding a fried chop, a sausage or a piece of hot blood
+pudding wrapped in greasy paper. The street was always slick with black mud,
+even in clear weather. A few laborers had already finished their lunch and were
+strolling aimlessly about, their open hands slapping their thighs, heavy from
+eating, slow and peaceful amid the hurrying crowd. A group formed in front of
+the door of l&rsquo;Assommoir.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Say, Bibi-the-Smoker,&rdquo; demanded a hoarse voice,
+&ldquo;aren&rsquo;t you going to buy us a round of <i>vitriol</i>?&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Five laborers came in and stood by the bar.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Ah! Here&rsquo;s that thief, Pere Colombe!&rdquo; the voice continued.
+&ldquo;We want the real old stuff, you know. And full sized glasses,
+too.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Pere Colombe served them as three more laborers entered. More blue smocks
+gathered on the street corner and some pushed their way into the establishment.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;You&rsquo;re foolish! You only think of the present,&rdquo; Gervaise was
+saying to Coupeau. &ldquo;Sure, I loved him, but after the disgusting way in
+which he left me&mdash;&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+They were talking of Lantier. Gervaise had not seen him again; she thought he
+was living with Virginie&rsquo;s sister at La Glaciere, in the house of that
+friend who was going to start a hat factory. She had no thought of running
+after him. She had been so distressed at first that she had thought of drowning
+herself in the river. But now that she had thought about it, everything seemed
+to be for the best. Lantier went through money so fast, that she probably never
+could have raised her children properly. Oh, she&rsquo;d let him see his
+children, all right, if he bothered to come round. But as far as she was
+concerned, she didn&rsquo;t want him to touch her, not even with his finger
+tips.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+She told all this to Coupeau just as if her plan of life was well settled.
+Meanwhile, Coupeau never forgot his desire to possess her. He made a jest of
+everything she said, turning it into ribaldry and asking some very direct
+questions about Lantier. But he proceeded so gaily and which such a smile that
+she never thought of being offended.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;So, you&rsquo;re the one who beat him,&rdquo; said he at length.
+&ldquo;Oh! you&rsquo;re not kind. You just go around whipping people.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+She interrupted him with a hearty laugh. It was true, though, she had whipped
+Virginie&rsquo;s tall carcass. She would have delighted in strangling someone
+on that day. She laughed louder than ever when Coupeau told her that Virginie,
+ashamed at having shown so much cowardice, had left the neighborhood. Her face,
+however, preserved an expression of childish gentleness as she put out her
+plump hands, insisting she wouldn&rsquo;t even harm a fly.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+She began to tell Coupeau about her childhood at Plassans. She had never cared
+overmuch for men; they had always bored her. She was fourteen when she got
+involved with Lantier. She had thought it was nice because he said he was her
+husband and she had enjoyed playing a housewife. She was too soft-hearted and
+too weak. She always got passionately fond of people who caused her trouble
+later. When she loved a man, she wasn&rsquo;t thinking of having fun in the
+present; she was dreaming about being happy and living together forever.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+And as Coupeau, with a chuckle, spoke of her two children, saying they
+hadn&rsquo;t come from under a bolster, she slapped his fingers; she added that
+she was, no doubt made on the model of other women; women thought of their
+home, slaved to keep the place clean and tidy, and went to bed too tired at
+night not to go to sleep at once. Besides, she resembled her mother, a stout
+laboring woman who died at her work and who had served as beast of burden to
+old Macquart for more than twenty years. Her mother&rsquo;s shoulders had been
+heavy enough to smash through doors, but that didn&rsquo;t prevent her from
+being soft-hearted and madly attracted to people. And if she limped a little,
+she no doubt owed that to the poor woman, whom old Macquart used to belabor
+with blows. Her mother had told her about the times when Macquart came home
+drunk and brutally bruised her. She had probably been born with her lame leg as
+a result of one of those times.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Oh! it&rsquo;s scarcely anything, it&rsquo;s hardly perceptible,&rdquo;
+said Coupeau gallantly.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+She shook her head; she knew well enough that it could be seen; at forty she
+would look broken in two. Then she added gently, with a slight laugh:
+&ldquo;It&rsquo;s a funny fancy of yours to fall in love with a cripple.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+With his elbows still on the table, he thrust his face closer to hers and began
+complimenting her in rather dubious language as though to intoxicate her with
+his words. But she kept shaking her head &ldquo;no,&rdquo; and didn&rsquo;t
+allow herself to be tempted although she was flattered by the tone of his
+voice. While listening, she kept looking out the window, seeming to be
+fascinated by the interesting crowd of people passing.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The shops were now almost empty. The grocer removed his last panful of fried
+potatoes from the stove. The sausage man arranged the dishes scattered on his
+counter. Great bearded workmen were as playful as young boys, clumping along in
+their hobnailed boots. Other workmen were smoking, staring up into the sky and
+blinking their eyes. Factory bells began to ring in the distance, but the
+workers, in no hurry, relit their pipes. Later, after being tempted by one
+wineshop after another, they finally decided to return to their jobs, but were
+still dragging their feet.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Gervaise amused herself by watching three workmen, a tall fellow and two short
+ones who turned to look back every few yards; they ended by descending the
+street, and came straight to Pere Colombe&rsquo;s l&rsquo;Assommoir.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Ah, well,&rdquo; murmured she, &ldquo;there&rsquo;re three fellows who
+don&rsquo;t seem inclined for work!&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Why!&rdquo; said Coupeau, &ldquo;I know the tall one, it&rsquo;s
+My-Boots, a comrade of mine.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Pere Colombe&rsquo;s l&rsquo;Assommoir was now full. You had to shout to be
+heard. Fists often pounded on the bar, causing the glasses to clink. Everyone
+was standing, hands crossed over belly or held behind back. The drinking groups
+crowded close to one another. Some groups, by the casks, had to wait a quarter
+of an hour before being able to order their drinks of Pere Colombe.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Hallo! It&rsquo;s that aristocrat, Young Cassis!&rdquo; cried My-Boots,
+bringing his hand down roughly on Coupeau&rsquo;s shoulder. &ldquo;A fine
+gentleman, who smokes paper, and wears shirts! So we want to do the grand with
+our sweetheart; we stand her little treats!&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Shut up! Don&rsquo;t bother me!&rdquo; replied Coupeau, greatly annoyed.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+But the other added, with a chuckle, &ldquo;Right you are! We know what&rsquo;s
+what, my boy. Muffs are muffs, that&rsquo;s all!&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+He turned his back after leering terribly as he looked at Gervaise. The latter
+drew back, feeling rather frightened. The smoke from the pipes, the strong odor
+of all those men, ascended in the air, already foul with the fumes of alcohol;
+and she felt a choking sensation in her throat, and coughed slightly.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Oh, what a horrible thing it is to drink!&rdquo; said she in a low
+voice.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+And she related that formerly at Plassans she used to drink anisette with her
+mother. But on one occasion it nearly killed her, and that disgusted her with
+it; now, she could never touch any liqueurs.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;You see,&rdquo; added she, pointing to her glass, &ldquo;I&rsquo;ve
+eaten my plum; only I must leave the juice, because it would make me
+ill.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+For himself, Coupeau couldn&rsquo;t understand how anyone could drink glass
+after glass of cheap brandy. A brandied plum occasionally could not hurt, but
+as for cheap brandy, absinthe and the other strong stuff, no, not for him, no
+matter how much his comrades teased him about it. He stayed out on the sidewalk
+when his friends went into low establishments. Coupeau&rsquo;s father had
+smashed his head open one day when he fell from the eaves of No. 25 on Rue
+Coquenard. He was drunk. This memory keeps Coupeau&rsquo;s entire family from
+the drink. Every time Coupeau passed that spot, he thought he would rather lick
+up water from the gutter than accept a free drink in a bar. He would always
+say: &ldquo;In our trade, you have to have steady legs.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Gervaise had taken up her basket again. She did not rise from her seat however,
+but held the basket on her knees, with a vacant look in her eyes and lost in
+thought, as though the young workman&rsquo;s words had awakened within her
+far-off thoughts of existence. And she said again, slowly, and without any
+apparent change of manner:
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;<i>Mon Dieu</i>! I&rsquo;m not ambitious; I don&rsquo;t ask for much. My
+desire is to work in peace, always to have bread to eat and a decent place to
+sleep in, you know; with a bed, a table, and two chairs, nothing more. If I
+can, I&rsquo;d like to raise my children to be good citizens. Also, I&rsquo;d
+like not to be beaten up, if I ever again live with a man. It&rsquo;s not my
+idea of amusement.&rdquo; She pondered, thinking if there was anything else she
+wanted, but there wasn&rsquo;t anything of importance. Then, after a moment she
+went on, &ldquo;Yes, when one reaches the end, one might wish to die in
+one&rsquo;s bed. For myself, having trudged through life, I should like to die
+in my bed, in my own home.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+And she rose from her seat. Coupeau, who cordially approved her wishes, was
+already standing up, anxious about the time. But they did not leave yet.
+Gervaise was curious enough to go to the far end of the room for a look at the
+big still behind the oak railing. It was chugging away in the little glassed-in
+courtyard. Coupeau explained its workings to her, pointing at the different
+parts of the machinery, showing her the trickling of the small stream of limpid
+alcohol. Not a single gay puff of steam was coming forth from the endless
+coils. The breathing could barely be heard. It sounded muffled as if from
+underground. It was like a sombre worker, performing dark deeds in the bright
+daylight, strong but silent.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+My-Boots, accompanied by his two comrades, came to lean on the railing until
+they could get a place at the bar. He laughed, looking at the machine.
+<i>Tonnerre de Dieu</i>, that&rsquo;s clever. There&rsquo;s enough stuff in its
+big belly to last for weeks. He wouldn&rsquo;t mind if they just fixed the end
+of the tube in his mouth, so he could feel the fiery spirits flowing down to
+his heels like a river. It would be better than the tiny sips doled out by Pere
+Colombe! His two comrades laughed with him, saying that My-Boots was quite a
+guy after all.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The huge still continued to trickle forth its alcoholic sweat. Eventually it
+would invade the bar, flow out along the outer Boulevards, and inundate the
+immense expanse of Paris.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Gervaise stepped back, shivering. She tried to smile as she said:
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;It&rsquo;s foolish, but that still and the liquor gives me the
+creeps.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Then, returning to the idea she nursed of a perfect happiness, she resumed:
+&ldquo;Now, ain&rsquo;t I right? It&rsquo;s much the nicest isn&rsquo;t
+it&mdash;to have plenty of work, bread to eat, a home of one&rsquo;s own, and
+to be able to bring up one&rsquo;s children and to die in one&rsquo;s
+bed?&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;And never to be beaten,&rdquo; added Coupeau gaily. &ldquo;But I would
+never beat you, if you would only try me, Madame Gervaise. You&rsquo;ve no
+cause for fear. I don&rsquo;t drink and then I love you too much. Come, shall
+it be marriage? I&rsquo;ll get you divorced and make you my wife.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+He was speaking low, whispering at the back of her neck while she made her way
+through the crowd of men with her basket held before her. She kept shaking her
+head &ldquo;no.&rdquo; Yet she turned around to smile at him, apparently happy
+to know that he never drank. Yes, certainly, she would say &ldquo;yes&rdquo; to
+him, except she had already sworn to herself never to start up with another
+man. Eventually they reached the door and went out.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+When they left, l&rsquo;Assommoir was packed to the door, spilling its hubbub
+of rough voices and its heavy smell of vitriol into the street. My-Boots could
+be heard railing at Pere Colombe, calling him a scoundrel and accusing him of
+only half filling his glass. He didn&rsquo;t have to come in here. He&rsquo;d
+never come back. He suggested to his comrades a place near the Barriere
+Saint-Denis where you drank good stuff straight.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Ah,&rdquo; sighed Gervaise when they reached the sidewalk. &ldquo;You
+can breathe out here. Good-bye, Monsieur Coupeau, and thank you. I must hurry
+now.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+He seized her hand as she started along the boulevard, insisting, &ldquo;Take a
+walk with me along Rue de la Goutte-d&rsquo;Or. It&rsquo;s not much farther for
+you. I&rsquo;ve got to see my sister before going back to work. We&rsquo;ll
+keep each other company.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+In the end, Gervaise agreed and they walked beside each other along the Rue des
+Poissonniers, although she did not take his arm. He told her about his family.
+His mother, an old vest-maker, now had to do housekeeping because her eyesight
+was poor. Her birthday was the third of last month and she was sixty-two. He
+was the youngest. One of his sisters, a widow of thirty-six, worked in a flower
+shop and lived in the Batignolles section, on Rue des Moines. The other sister
+was thirty years old now. She had married a deadpan chainmaker named Lorilleux.
+That&rsquo;s where he was going now. They lived in a big tenement on the left
+side. He ate with them in the evenings; it saved a bit for all of them. But he
+had been invited out this evening and he was going to tell her not to expect
+him.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Gervaise, who was listening to him, suddenly interrupted him to ask, with a
+smile: &ldquo;So you&rsquo;re called &lsquo;Young Cassis,&rsquo; Monsieur
+Coupeau?&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Oh!&rdquo; replied he, &ldquo;it&rsquo;s a nickname my mates have given
+me because I generally drink &lsquo;cassis&rsquo; when they force me to
+accompany them to the wineshop. It&rsquo;s no worse to be called Young Cassis
+than My-Boots, is it?&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Of course not. Young Cassis isn&rsquo;t an ugly name,&rdquo; observed
+the young woman.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+And she questioned him about his work. He was still working there, behind the
+octroi wall at the new hospital. Oh! there was no want of work, he would not be
+finished there for a year at least. There were yards and yards of gutters!
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;You know,&rdquo; said he, &ldquo;I can see the Hotel Boncoeur when
+I&rsquo;m up there. Yesterday you were at the window, and I waved my arms, but
+you didn&rsquo;t notice me.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+They had already gone about a hundred paces along the Rue de la
+Goutte-d&rsquo;Or, when he stood still and raising his eyes, said:
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;That&rsquo;s the house. I was born farther on, at No. 22. But this house
+is, all the same, a fine block of masonry! It&rsquo;s as big as a barrack
+inside!&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Gervaise looked up, examining the facade. On the street side, the tenement had
+five stories, each with fifteen windows, whose black shutters with their broken
+slats gave an air of desolation to the wide expanse of wall. Four shops
+occupied the ground floor. To the right of the entrance, a large, greasy hash
+house, and to the left, a coal dealer, a notions seller, and an umbrella
+merchant. The building appeared even larger than it was because it had on each
+side a small, low building which seemed to lean against it for support. This
+immense, squared-off building was outlined against the sky. Its unplastered
+side walls were as bare as prison walls, except for rows of roughly jutting
+stones which suggested jaws full of decayed teeth yawning vacantly.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Gervaise was gazing at the entrance with interest. The high, arched doorway
+rose to the second floor and opened onto a deep porch, at the end of which
+could be seen the pale daylight of a courtyard. This entranceway was paved like
+the street, and down the center flowed a streamlet of pink-stained water.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Come in,&rdquo; said Coupeau, &ldquo;no one will eat you.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Gervaise wanted to wait for him in the street. However, she could not resist
+going through the porch as far as the concierge&rsquo;s room on the right. And
+there, on the threshold, she raised her eyes. Inside, the building was six
+stories high, with four identical plain walls enclosing the broad central
+court. The drab walls were corroded by yellowish spots and streaked by
+drippings from the roof gutters. The walls went straight up to the eaves with
+no molding or ornament except the angles on the drain pipes at each floor. Here
+the sink drains added their stains. The glass window panes resembled murky
+water. Mattresses of checkered blue ticking were hanging out of several windows
+to air. Clothes lines stretched from other windows with family washing hanging
+to dry. On a third floor line was a baby&rsquo;s diaper, still implanted with
+filth. This crowded tenement was bursting at the seams, spilling out poverty
+and misery through every crevice.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Each of the four walls had, at ground level, a narrow entrance, plastered
+without a trace of woodwork. This opened into a vestibule containing a
+dirt-encrusted staircase which spiraled upward. They were each labeled with one
+of the first four letters of the alphabet painted on the wall.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Several large work-shops with weather-blackened skylights were scattered about
+the court. Near the concierge&rsquo;s room was the dyeing establishment
+responsible for the pink streamlet. Puddles of water infested the courtyard,
+along with wood shavings and coal cinders. Grass and weeds grew between the
+paving stones. The unforgiving sunlight seemed to cut the court into two parts.
+On the shady side was a dripping water tap with three small hens scratching for
+worms with their filth-smeared claws.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Gervaise slowly gazed about, lowering her glance from the sixth floor to the
+paving stones, then raising it again, surprised at the vastness, feeling as it
+were in the midst of a living organ, in the very heart of a city, and
+interested in the house, as though it were a giant before her.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Is madame seeking for any one?&rdquo; called out the inquisitive
+concierge, emerging from her room.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The young woman explained that she was waiting for a friend. She returned to
+the street; then as Coupeau did not come, she went back to the courtyard seized
+with the desire to take another look. She did not think the house ugly. Amongst
+the rags hanging from the windows she discovered various cheerful
+touches&mdash;a wall-flower blooming in a pot, a cage of chirruping canaries,
+shaving-glasses shining like stars in the depth of the shadow. A carpenter was
+singing in his work-shop, accompanied by the whining of his plane. The
+blacksmith&rsquo;s hammers were ringing rhythmically.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+In contrast to the apparent wretched poverty, at nearly every open window
+appeared the begrimed faces of laughing children. Women with peaceful faces
+could be seen bent over their sewing. The rooms were empty of men who had gone
+back to work after lunch. The whole tenement was tranquil except for the sounds
+from the work-shops below which served as a sort of lullaby that went on,
+unceasingly, always the same.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The only thing she did not like was the courtyard&rsquo;s dampness. She would
+want rooms at the rear, on the sunny side. Gervaise took a few more steps into
+the courtyard, inhaling the characteristic odor of the slums, comprised of dust
+and rotten garbage. But the sharp odor of the waste water from the dye shop was
+strong, and Gervaise thought it smelled better here than at the Hotel Boncoeur.
+She chose a window for herself, the one at the far left with a small window box
+planted with scarlet runners.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;I&rsquo;m afraid I&rsquo;ve kept you waiting rather a long time,&rdquo;
+said Coupeau, whom she suddenly heard close beside her. &ldquo;They always make
+an awful fuss whenever I don&rsquo;t dine with them, and it was worse than ever
+to-day as my sister had bought some veal.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+And as Gervaise had slightly started with surprise, he continued glancing
+around in his turn:
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;You were looking at the house. It&rsquo;s always all let from the top to
+the bottom. There are three hundred lodgers, I think. If I had any furniture, I
+would have secured a small room. One would be comfortable here, don&rsquo;t you
+think so?&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Yes, one would be comfortable,&rdquo; murmured Gervaise. &ldquo;In our
+street at Plassans there weren&rsquo;t near so many people. Look, that&rsquo;s
+pretty&mdash;that window up on the fifth floor, with the scarlet
+runners.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The zinc-worker&rsquo;s obstinate desire made him ask her once more whether she
+would or she wouldn&rsquo;t. They could rent a place here as soon as they found
+a bed. She hurried out the arched entranceway, asking him not to start that
+subject again. There was as much chance of this building collapsing as there
+was of her sleeping under the same blanket with him. Still, when Coupeau left
+her in front of Madame Fauconnier&rsquo;s shop, he was allowed to hold her hand
+for a moment.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+For a month the young woman and the zinc-worker were the best of friends. He
+admired her courage, when he beheld her half killing herself with work, keeping
+her children tidy and clean, and yet finding time at night to do a little
+sewing. Often other women were hopelessly messy, forever nibbling or gadding
+about, but she wasn&rsquo;t like them at all. She was much too serious. Then
+she would laugh, and modestly defend herself. It was her misfortune that she
+had not always been good, having been with a man when only fourteen. Then too,
+she had often helped her mother empty a bottle of anisette. But she had learned
+a few things from experience. He was wrong to think of her as strong-willed;
+her will power was very weak. She had always let herself be pushed into things
+because she didn&rsquo;t want to hurt someone&rsquo;s feelings. Her one hope
+now was to live among decent people, for living among bad people was like being
+hit over the head. It cracks your skull. Whenever she thought of the future,
+she shivered. Everything she had seen in life so far, especially when a child,
+had given her lessons to remember.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Coupeau, however, chaffed her about her gloomy thoughts, and brought back all
+her courage by trying to pinch her hips. She pushed him away from her, and
+slapped his hands, whilst he called out laughingly that, for a weak woman, she
+was not a very easy capture. He, who always joked about everything did not
+trouble himself regarding the future. One day followed another, that was all.
+There would always be somewhere to sleep and a bite to eat. The neighborhood
+seemed decent enough to him, except for a gang of drunkards that ought to be
+cleaned out of the gutters.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Coupeau was not a bad sort of fellow. He sometimes had really sensible things
+to say. He was something of a dandy with his Parisian working man&rsquo;s gift
+for banter, a regular gift of gab, and besides, he was attractive.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+They had ended by rendering each other all sorts of services at the Hotel
+Boncoeur. Coupeau fetched her milk, ran her errands, carried her bundles of
+clothes; often of an evening, as he got home first from work, he took the
+children for a walk on the exterior Boulevard. Gervaise, in return for his
+polite attentions, would go up into the narrow room at the top of the house
+where he slept, and see to his clothes, sewing buttons on his blue linen
+trousers, and mending his linen jackets. A great familiarity existed between
+them. She was never bored when he was around. The gay songs he sang amused her,
+and so did his continuous banter of jokes and jibes characteristic of the Paris
+streets, this being still new to her.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+On Coupeau&rsquo;s side, this continual familiarity inflamed him more and more
+until it began to seriously bother him. He began to feel tense and uneasy. He
+continued with his foolish talk, never failing to ask her, &ldquo;When will it
+be?&rdquo; She understood what he meant and teased him. He would then come to
+visit her carrying his bedroom slippers, as if he were moving in. She joked
+about it and continued calmly without blushing at the allusions with which he
+was always surrounding her. She stood for anything from him as long as he
+didn&rsquo;t get rough. She only got angry once when he pulled a strand of her
+hair while trying to force a kiss from her.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Towards the end of June, Coupeau lost his liveliness. He became most peculiar.
+Gervaise, feeling uneasy at some of his glances, barricaded herself in at
+night. Then, after having sulked ever since the Sunday, he suddenly came on the
+Tuesday night about eleven o&rsquo;clock and knocked at her room. She would not
+open to him; but his voice was so gentle and so trembling that she ended by
+removing the chest of drawers she had pushed against the door. When he entered,
+she thought he was ill; he looked so pale, his eyes were so red, and the veins
+on his face were all swollen. And he stood there, stuttering and shaking his
+head. No, no, he was not ill. He had been crying for two hours upstairs in his
+room; he wept like a child, biting his pillow so as not to be heard by the
+neighbors. For three nights past he had been unable to sleep. It could not go
+on like that.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Listen, Madame Gervaise,&rdquo; said he, with a swelling in his throat
+and on the point of bursting out crying again; &ldquo;we must end this,
+mustn&rsquo;t we? We&rsquo;ll go and get married. It&rsquo;s what I want.
+I&rsquo;ve quite made up my mind.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Gervaise showed great surprise. She was very grave.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Oh! Monsieur Coupeau,&rdquo; murmured she, &ldquo;whatever are you
+thinking of? You know I&rsquo;ve never asked you for that. I didn&rsquo;t care
+about it&mdash;that was all. Oh, no, no! it&rsquo;s serious now; think of what
+you&rsquo;re saying, I beg of you.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+But he continued to shake his head with an air of unalterable resolution. He
+had already thought it all over. He had come down because he wanted to have a
+good night. She wasn&rsquo;t going to send him back to weep again he supposed!
+As soon as she said &ldquo;yes,&rdquo; he would no longer bother her, and she
+could go quietly to bed. He only wanted to hear her say &ldquo;yes.&rdquo; They
+could talk it over on the morrow.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;But I certainly can&rsquo;t say &lsquo;yes&rsquo; just like that,&rdquo;
+resumed Gervaise. &ldquo;I don&rsquo;t want you to be able to accuse me later
+on of having incited you to do a foolish thing. You shouldn&rsquo;t be so
+insistent, Monsieur Coupeau. You can&rsquo;t really be sure that you&rsquo;re
+in love with me. If you didn&rsquo;t see me for a week, it might fade away.
+Sometimes men get married and then there&rsquo;s day after day, stretching out
+into an entire lifetime, and they get pretty well bored by it all. Sit down
+there; I&rsquo;m willing to talk it over at once.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Then until one in the morning, in the dark room and by the faint light of a
+smoky tallow candle which they forgot to snuff, they talked of their marriage,
+lowering their voices so as not to wake the two children, Claude and Etienne,
+who were sleeping, both heads on the same pillow. Gervaise kept pointing out
+the children to Coupeau, what a funny kind of dowry they were. She really
+shouldn&rsquo;t burden him with them. Besides, what would the neighbors say?
+She&rsquo;d feel ashamed for him because everyone knew about the story of her
+life and her lover. They wouldn&rsquo;t think it decent if they saw them
+getting married barely two months later.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Coupeau replied by shrugging his shoulders. He didn&rsquo;t care about the
+neighbors! He never bothered about their affairs. So, there was Lantier before
+him, well, so what? What&rsquo;s so bad about that? She hadn&rsquo;t been
+constantly bringing men upstairs, as some women did, even rich ladies! The
+children would grow up, they&rsquo;d raise them right. Never had he known
+before such a woman, such sound character, so good-hearted. Anyway, she could
+have been anything, a streetwalker, ugly, lazy and good-for-nothing, with a
+whole gang of dirty kids, and so what? He wanted her.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Yes, I want you,&rdquo; he repeated, bringing his hand down on his knee
+with a continuos hammering. &ldquo;You understand, I want you. There&rsquo;s
+nothing to be said to that, is there?&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Little by little, Gervaise gave way. Her emotions began to take control when
+faced with his encompassing desire. Still, with her hands in her lap and her
+face suffused with a soft sweetness, she hesitantly offered objections. From
+outside, through the half-open window, a lovely June night breathed in puffs of
+sultry air, disturbing the candle with its long wick gleaming red like a
+glowing coal. In the deep silence of the sleeping neighborhood the only sound
+was the infantile weeping of a drunkard lying in the middle of the street. Far
+away, in the back room of some restaurant, a violin was playing a dance tune
+for some late party.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Coupeau was silent. Then, knowing she had no more arguments, he smiled, took
+hold of her hands and pulled her toward him. She was in one of those moments of
+weakness she so greatly mistrusted, persuaded at last, too emotionally stirred
+to refuse anything or to hurt anyone&rsquo;s feelings. Coupeau didn&rsquo;t
+realize that she was giving way. He held her wrists so tightly as to almost
+crush them. Together they breathed a long sigh that to both of them meant a
+partial satisfaction of their desire.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;You&rsquo;ll say &lsquo;yes,&rsquo; won&rsquo;t you,&rdquo; asked he.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;How you worry me!&rdquo; she murmured. &ldquo;You wish it? Well then,
+&lsquo;yes.&rsquo; Ah! we&rsquo;re perhaps doing a very foolish thing.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+He jumped up, and, seizing her round the waist, kissed her roughly on the face,
+at random. Then, as this caress caused a noise, he became anxious, and went
+softly and looked at Claude and Etienne.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Hush, we must be careful,&rdquo; said he in a whisper, &ldquo;and not
+wake the children. Good-bye till to-morrow.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+And he went back to his room. Gervaise, all in a tremble, remained seated on
+the edge of her bed, without thinking of undressing herself for nearly an hour.
+She was touched; she felt that Coupeau was very honorable; for at one moment
+she had really thought it was all over, and that he would forget her. The
+drunkard below, under the window, was now hoarsely uttering the plaintive cry
+of some lost animal. The violin in the distance had left off its saucy tune and
+was now silent.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+During the following days Coupeau sought to get Gervaise to call some evening
+on his sister in the Rue de la Goutte-d&rsquo;Or; but the young woman, who was
+very timid, showed a great dread of this visit to the Lorilleux. She knew that
+Coupeau had a lingering fear of that household, even though he certainly
+wasn&rsquo;t dependent on his sister, who wasn&rsquo;t even the oldest of the
+family. Mamma Coupeau would certainly give her consent at once, as she never
+refused her only son anything. The thing was that the Lorilleuxs were supposed
+to be earning ten francs a day or more and that gave them a certain authority.
+Coupeau would never dare to get married unless his wife was acceptable to them.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;I have spoken to them of you, they know our plans,&rdquo; explained he
+to Gervaise. &ldquo;Come now! What a child you are! Let&rsquo;s call on them
+this evening. I&rsquo;ve warned you, haven&rsquo;t I? You&rsquo;ll find my
+sister rather stiff. Lorilleux, too, isn&rsquo;t always very amiable. In
+reality they are greatly annoyed, because if I marry, I shall no longer take my
+meals with them, and it&rsquo;ll be an economy the less. But that doesn&rsquo;t
+matter, they won&rsquo;t turn you out. Do this for me, it&rsquo;s absolutely
+necessary.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+These words only frightened Gervaise the more. One Saturday evening, however,
+she gave in. Coupeau came for her at half-past eight. She had dressed herself
+in a black dress, a crape shawl with yellow palms, and a white cap trimmed with
+a little cheap lace. During the six weeks she had been working, she had saved
+the seven francs for the shawl, and the two and a half francs for the cap; the
+dress was an old one cleaned and made up afresh.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;They&rsquo;re expecting you,&rdquo; said Coupeau to her, as they went
+round by the Rue des Poissonniers. &ldquo;Oh! they&rsquo;re beginning to get
+used to the idea of my being married. They seem nice indeed, to-night. And you
+know if you&rsquo;ve never seen gold chains made, it&rsquo;ll amuse you to
+watch them. They just happen to have a pressing order for Monday.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;They&rsquo;ve got gold in their room?&rdquo; asked Gervaise.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;I should think so; there&rsquo;s some on the walls, on the floor, in
+fact everywhere.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+They had passed the arched doorway and crossed the courtyard. The Lorilleuxs
+lived on the sixth floor, staircase B. Coupeau laughingly told her to hold the
+hand-rail tight and not to leave go of it. She looked up, and blinked her eyes,
+as she perceived the tall hollow tower of the staircase, lighted by three gas
+jets, one on every second landing; the last one, right up at the top looked
+like a star twinkling in a black sky, whilst the other two cast long flashes of
+light, of fantastic shapes, among the interminable windings of the stairs.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;By Jove!&rdquo; said the zinc-worker as he reached the first floor,
+smiling, &ldquo;there&rsquo;s a strong smell of onion soup. Someone&rsquo;s
+having onion soup, I&rsquo;m sure.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Staircase B, with its gray, dirty steps and hand-rail, its scratched walls and
+chipped plaster, was full of strong kitchen odors. Long corridors, echoing with
+noise, led away from each landing. Doors, painted yellow, gaped open, smeared
+black around the latch from dirty hands. A sink on each landing gave forth a
+fetid humidity, adding its stench to the sharp flavor of the cooking of onions.
+From the basement, all the way to the sixth floor, you could hear dishes
+clattering, saucepans being rinsed, pots being scraped and scoured.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+On the first floor Gervaise saw a half-opened door with the word
+&ldquo;Designer&rdquo; written on it in large letters. Inside were two men
+sitting by a table, the dishes cleared away from its oilcloth cover, arguing
+furiously amid a cloud of pipe smoke. The second and third floors were quieter,
+and through cracks in the woodwork only such sounds filtered as the rhythm of a
+cradle rocking, the stifled crying of a child, a woman&rsquo;s voice sounding
+like the dull murmur of running water with no words distinct. Gervaise read the
+various signs on the doors giving the names of the occupants: &ldquo;Madame
+Gaudron, wool-carder&rdquo; and &ldquo;Monsieur Madinier, cardboard
+boxes.&rdquo; There was a fight in progress on the fourth floor: a stomping of
+feet that shook the floor, furniture banged around, a racket of curses and
+blows; but this did not bother the neighbors opposite, who were playing cards
+with their door opened wide to admit more air.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+When Gervaise reached the fifth floor, she had to stop to take a breath; she
+was not used to going up so high; that wall for ever turning, the glimpses she
+had of the lodgings following each other, made her head ache. Anyway, there was
+a family almost blocking the landing: the father washing the dishes over a
+small earthenware stove near the sink and the mother sitting with her back to
+the stair-rail and cleaning the baby before putting it to bed.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Coupeau kept urging Gervaise along, and they finally reached the sixth floor.
+He encouraged her with a smile; they had arrived! She had been hearing a voice
+all the way up from the bottom and she was gazing upward, wondering where it
+could be coming from, a voice so clear and piercing that it had dominated all
+the other sounds. It came from a little old woman in an attic room who sang
+while putting dresses on cheap dolls. When a tall girl came by with a pail of
+water and entered a nearby apartment, Gervaise saw a tumbled bed on which a man
+was sprawled, his eyes fixed on the ceiling. As the door closed behind her,
+Gervaise saw the hand-written card: &ldquo;Mademoiselle Clemence,
+ironing.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Now that she had finally made it to the top, her legs weary and her breath
+short, Gervaise leaned over the railing to look down. Now it was the gaslight
+on the first floor which seemed a distant star at the bottom of a narrow well
+six stories deep. All the odors and all the murmurings of the immense variety
+of life within the tenement came up to her in one stifling breath that flushed
+her face as she hazarded a worried glance down into the gulf below.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;We&rsquo;re not there yet,&rdquo; said Coupeau. &ldquo;Oh! It&rsquo;s
+quite a journey!&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+He had gone down a long corridor on the left. He turned twice, the first time
+also to the left, the second time to the right. The corridor still continued
+branching off, narrowing between walls full of crevices, with plaster peeling
+off, and lighted at distant intervals by a slender gas-jet; and the doors all
+alike, succeeded each other the same as the doors of a prison or a convent, and
+nearly all open, continued to display homes of misery and work, which the hot
+June evening filled with a reddish mist. At length they reached a small passage
+in complete darkness.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;We&rsquo;re here,&rdquo; resumed the zinc-worker. &ldquo;Be careful,
+keep to the wall; there are three steps.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+And Gervaise carefully took another ten steps in the obscurity. She stumbled
+and then counted the three steps. But at the end of the passage Coupeau had
+opened a door, without knocking. A brilliant light spread over the tiled floor.
+They entered.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+It was a narrow apartment, and seemed as if it were the continuation of the
+corridor. A faded woolen curtain, raised up just then by a string, divided the
+place in two. The first part contained a bedstead pushed beneath an angle of
+the attic ceiling, a cast-iron stove still warm from the cooking of the dinner,
+two chairs, a table and a wardrobe, the cornice of which had had to be sawn off
+to make it fit in between the door and the bedstead. The second part was fitted
+up as a work-shop; at the end, a narrow forge with its bellows; to the right, a
+vise fixed to the wall beneath some shelves on which pieces of old iron lay
+scattered; to the left near the window, a small workman&rsquo;s bench,
+encumbered with greasy and very dirty pliers, shears and microscopical saws,
+all very dirty and grimy.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;It&rsquo;s us!&rdquo; cried Coupeau advancing as far as the woolen
+curtain.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+But no one answered at first. Gervaise, deeply affected, moved especially by
+the thought that she was about to enter a place full of gold, stood behind the
+zinc-worker, stammering and venturing upon nods of her head by way of bowing.
+The brilliant light, a lamp burning on the bench, a brazier full of coals
+flaring in the forge, increased her confusion still more. She ended however, by
+distinguishing Madame Lorilleux&mdash;little, red-haired and tolerably strong,
+pulling with all the strength of her short arms, and with the assistance of a
+big pair of pincers, a thread of black metal which she passed through the holes
+of a draw-plate fixed to the vise. Seated in front of the bench, Lorilleux,
+quite as small of stature, but more slender in the shoulders, worked with the
+tips of his pliers, with the vivacity of a monkey, at a labor so minute, that
+it was impossible to follow it between his scraggy fingers. It was the husband
+who first raised his head&mdash;a head with scanty locks, the face of the
+yellow tinge of old wax, long, and with an ailing expression.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Ah! it&rsquo;s you; well, well!&rdquo; murmured he. &ldquo;We&rsquo;re
+in a hurry you know. Don&rsquo;t come into the work-room, you&rsquo;d be in our
+way. Stay in the bedroom.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+And he resumed his minute task, his face again in the reflection of a glass
+globe full of green-colored water, through which the lamp shed a circle of
+bright light over his work.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Take the chairs!&rdquo; called out Madame Lorilleux in her turn.
+&ldquo;It&rsquo;s that lady, isn&rsquo;t it? Very well, very well!&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+She had rolled the wire and she carried it to the forge, and then, reviving the
+fire of the brazier with a large wooden fan, she proceeded to temper the wire
+before passing it through the last holes of the draw-plate.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Coupeau moved the chairs forward and seated Gervaise by the curtain. The room
+was so narrow that he could not sit beside her, so he sat behind her, leaning
+over her shoulder to explain the work in progress. Gervaise was intimidated by
+this strange reception and felt uneasy. She had a buzzing in her ears and
+couldn&rsquo;t hear clearly. She thought the wife looked older than her thirty
+years and not very neat with her hair in a pigtail dangling down the back of
+her loosely worn wrapper. The husband, who was only a year older, appeared
+already an old man with mean, thin lips, as he sat there working in his shirt
+sleeves with his bare feet thrust into down at the heel slippers. Gervaise was
+dismayed by the smallness of the shop, the grimy walls, the rustiness of the
+tools, and the black soot spread all over what looked like the odds and ends of
+a scrap-iron peddler&rsquo;s wares.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;And the gold?&rdquo; asked Gervaise in a low voice.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Her anxious glances searched the corners and sought amongst all that filth for
+the resplendence she had dreamt of. But Coupeau burst out laughing.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Gold?&rdquo; said he; &ldquo;why there&rsquo;s some; there&rsquo;s some
+more, and there&rsquo;s some at your feet!&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+He pointed successively to the fine wire at which his sister was working, and
+to another roll of wire, similar to the ordinary iron wire, hanging against the
+wall close to the vise; then going down on all fours, he picked up, beneath the
+wooden screen which covered the tiled floor of the work-room, a piece of waste,
+a tiny fragment resembling the point of a rusty needle. But Gervaise protested;
+that couldn&rsquo;t be gold, that blackish piece of metal as ugly as iron! He
+had to bite into the piece and show her the gleaming notch made by his teeth.
+Then he continued his explanations: the employers provided the gold wire,
+already alloyed; the craftsmen first pulled it through the draw-plate to obtain
+the correct size, being careful to anneal it five or six times to keep it from
+breaking. It required a steady, strong hand, and plenty of practice. His sister
+would not let her husband touch the wire-drawing since he was subject to
+coughing spells. She had strong arms for it; he had seen her draw gold to the
+fineness of a hair.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Lorilleux, seized with a fit of coughing, almost doubled up on his stool. In
+the midst of the paroxysm, he spoke, and said in a choking voice, still without
+looking at Gervaise, as though he was merely mentioning the thing to himself:
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;I&rsquo;m making the herring-bone chain.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Coupeau urged Gervaise to get up. She might draw nearer and see. The chainmaker
+consented with a grunt. He wound the wire prepared by his wife round a mandrel,
+a very thin steel rod. Then he sawed gently, cutting the wire the whole length
+of the mandrel, each turn forming a link, which he soldered. The links were
+laid on a large piece of charcoal. He wetted them with a drop of borax, taken
+from the bottom of a broken glass beside him; and he made them red-hot at the
+lamp beneath the horizontal flame produced by the blow-pipe. Then, when he had
+soldered about a hundred links he returned once more to his minute work,
+propping his hands against the edge of the <i>cheville</i>, a small piece of
+board which the friction of his hands had polished. He bent each link almost
+double with the pliers, squeezed one end close, inserted it in the last link
+already in place and then, with the aid of a point opened out again the end he
+had squeezed; and he did this with a continuous regularity, the links joining
+each other so rapidly that the chain gradually grew beneath Gervaise&rsquo;s
+gaze, without her being able to follow, or well understand how it was done.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;That&rsquo;s the herring-bone chain,&rdquo; said Coupeau.
+&ldquo;There&rsquo;s also the long link, the cable, the plain ring, and the
+spiral. But that&rsquo;s the herring-bone. Lorilleux only makes the
+herring-bone chain.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The latter chuckled with satisfaction. He exclaimed, as he continued squeezing
+the links, invisible between his black finger-nails.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Listen to me, Young Cassis! I was making a calculation this morning. I
+commenced work when I was twelve years old, you know. Well! Can you guess how
+long a herring-bone chain I must have made up till to-day?&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+He raised his pale face, and blinked his red eye-lids.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Twenty-six thousand feet, do you hear? Two leagues! That&rsquo;s
+something! A herring-bone chain two leagues long! It&rsquo;s enough to twist
+round the necks of all the women of the neighborhood. And you know, it&rsquo;s
+still increasing. I hope to make it long enough to reach from Paris to
+Versailles.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Gervaise had returned to her seat, disenchanted and thinking everything very
+ugly. She smiled to be polite to the Lorilleuxs. The complete silence about her
+marriage bothered her. It was the sole reason for her having come. The
+Lorilleuxs were treating her as some stranger brought in by Coupeau. When a
+conversation finally did get started, it concerned the building&rsquo;s
+tenants. Madame Lorilleux asked her husband if he had heard the people on the
+fourth floor having a fight. They fought every day. The husband usually came
+home drunk and the wife had her faults too, yelling in the filthiest language.
+Then they spoke of the designer on the first floor, an uppity show-off with a
+mound of debts, always smoking, always arguing loudly with his friends.
+Monsieur Madinier&rsquo;s cardboard business was barely surviving. He had let
+two girl workers go yesterday. The business ate up all his money, leaving his
+children to run around in rags. And that Madame Gaudron was pregnant again;
+this was almost indecent at her age. The landlord was going to evict the
+Coquets on the fifth floor. They owed nine months&rsquo; rent, and besides,
+they insisted on lighting their stove out on the landing. Last Saturday the old
+lady on the sixth floor, Mademoiselle Remanjou, had arrived just in time to
+save the Linguerlot child from being badly burned. Mademoiselle Clemence, one
+who took in ironing, well, she lived life as she pleased. She was so kind to
+animals though and had such a good heart that you couldn&rsquo;t say anything
+against her. It was a pity, a fine girl like her, the company she kept.
+She&rsquo;d be walking the streets before long.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Look, here&rsquo;s one,&rdquo; said Lorilleux to his wife, giving her
+the piece of chain he had been working on since his lunch. &ldquo;You can trim
+it.&rdquo; And he added, with the persistence of a man who does not easily
+relinquish a joke: &ldquo;Another four feet and a half. That brings me nearer
+to Versailles.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Madame Lorilleux, after tempering it again, trimmed it by passing it through
+the regulating draw-plate. Then she put it in a little copper saucepan with a
+long handle, full of lye-water, and placed it over the fire of the forge.
+Gervaise, again pushed forward by Coupeau, had to follow this last operation.
+When the chain was thoroughly cleansed, it appeared a dull red color. It was
+finished, and ready to be delivered.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;They&rsquo;re always delivered like that, in their rough state,&rdquo;
+the zinc-worker explained. &ldquo;The polishers rub them afterwards with
+cloths.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Gervaise felt her courage failing her. The heat, more and more intense, was
+suffocating her. They kept the door shut, because Lorilleux caught cold from
+the least draught. Then as they still did not speak of the marriage, she wanted
+to go away and gently pulled Coupeau&rsquo;s jacket. He understood. Besides, he
+also was beginning to feel ill at ease and vexed at their affectation of
+silence.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Well, we&rsquo;re off,&rdquo; said he. &ldquo;We mustn&rsquo;t keep you
+from your work.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+He moved about for a moment, waiting, hoping for a word or some allusion or
+other. At length he decided to broach the subject himself.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;I say, Lorilleux, we&rsquo;re counting on you to be my wife&rsquo;s
+witness.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The chainmaker pretended, with a chuckle, to be greatly surprised; whilst his
+wife, leaving her draw-plates, placed herself in the middle of the work-room.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;So it&rsquo;s serious then?&rdquo; murmured he. &ldquo;That confounded
+Young Cassis, one never knows whether he is joking or not.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Ah! yes, madame&rsquo;s the person involved,&rdquo; said the wife in her
+turn, as she stared rudely at Gervaise. &ldquo;<i>Mon Dieu!</i> We&rsquo;ve no
+advice to give you, we haven&rsquo;t. It&rsquo;s a funny idea to go and get
+married, all the same. Anyhow, it&rsquo;s your own wish. When it doesn&rsquo;t
+succeed, one&rsquo;s only got oneself to blame, that&rsquo;s all. And it
+doesn&rsquo;t often succeed, not often, not often.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+She uttered these last words slower and slower, and shaking her head, she
+looked from the young woman&rsquo;s face to her hands, and then to her feet as
+though she had wished to undress her and see the very pores of her skin. She
+must have found her better than she expected.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;My brother is perfectly free,&rdquo; she continued more stiffly.
+&ldquo;No doubt the family might have wished&mdash;one always makes projects.
+But things take such funny turns. For myself, I don&rsquo;t want to have any
+unpleasantness. Had he brought us the lowest of the low, I should merely have
+said: &lsquo;Marry her and go to blazes!&rsquo; He was not badly off though,
+here with us. He&rsquo;s fat enough; one can very well see he didn&rsquo;t fast
+much; and he always found his soup hot right on time. I say, Lorilleux,
+don&rsquo;t you think madame&rsquo;s like Therese&mdash;you know who I mean,
+that woman who used to live opposite, and who died of consumption?&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Yes, there&rsquo;s a certain resemblance,&rdquo; replied the chainmaker.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;And you&rsquo;ve got two children, madame? Now, I must admit I said to
+my brother: &lsquo;I can&rsquo;t understand how you can want to marry a woman
+who&rsquo;s got two children.&rsquo; You mustn&rsquo;t be offended if I consult
+his interests; its only natural. You don&rsquo;t look strong either.
+Don&rsquo;t you think, Lorilleux, that madame doesn&rsquo;t look very
+strong?&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;No, no, she&rsquo;s not strong.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+They did not mention her leg; but Gervaise understood by their side glances,
+and the curling of their lips, that they were alluding to it. She stood before
+them, wrapped in her thin shawl with the yellow palms, replying in
+monosyllables, as though in the presence of her judges. Coupeau, seeing she was
+suffering, ended by exclaiming:
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;All that&rsquo;s nothing to do with it. What you are talking about
+isn&rsquo;t important. The wedding will take place on Saturday, July 29. I
+calculated by the almanac. Is it settled? Does it suit you?&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Oh, it&rsquo;s all the same to us,&rdquo; said his sister. &ldquo;There
+was no necessity to consult us. I shan&rsquo;t prevent Lorilleux being witness.
+I only want peace and quiet.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Gervaise, hanging her head, not knowing what to do with herself had put the toe
+of her boot through one of the openings in the wooden screen which covered the
+tiled floor of the work-room; then afraid of having disturbed something when
+she had withdrawn it, she stooped down and felt about with her hand. Lorilleux
+hastily brought the lamp, and he examined her fingers suspiciously.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;You must be careful,&rdquo; said he, &ldquo;the tiny bits of gold stick
+to the shoes, and get carried away without one knowing it.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+It was all to do with business. The employers didn&rsquo;t allow a single speck
+for waste. He showed her the rabbit&rsquo;s foot he used to brush off any
+flecks of gold left on the <i>cheville</i> and the leather he kept on his lap
+to catch any gold that fell. Twice weekly the shop was swept out carefully, the
+sweepings collected and burned and the ashes sifted. This recovered up to
+twenty-five or thirty francs&rsquo; worth of gold a month.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Madame Lorilleux could not take her eyes from Gervaise&rsquo;s shoes.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;There&rsquo;s no reason to get angry,&rdquo; murmured she with an
+amiable smile. &ldquo;But, perhaps madame would not mind looking at the soles
+of her shoes.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+And Gervaise, turning very red, sat down again, and holding up her feet showed
+that there was nothing clinging to them. Coupeau had opened the door,
+exclaiming: &ldquo;Good-night!&rdquo; in an abrupt tone of voice. He called to
+her from the corridor. Then she in her turn went off, after stammering a few
+polite words: she hoped to see them again, and that they would all agree well
+together. Both of the Lorilleux had already gone back to their work at the far
+end of their dark hole of a work-room. Madame Lorilleux, her skin reflecting
+the red glow from the bed of coals, was drawing on another wire, each effort
+swelling her neck and making the strained muscles stand out like taut cords.
+Her husband, hunched over beneath the greenish gleam of the globe was starting
+another length of chain, twisting each link with his pliers, pressing it on one
+side, inserting it into the next link above, opening it again with the pointed
+tool, continuously, mechanically, not wasting a motion, even to wipe the sweat
+from his face.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+When Gervaise emerged from the corridor on to the landing, she could not help
+saying, with tears in her eyes:
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;That doesn&rsquo;t promise much happiness.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Coupeau shook his head furiously. He would get even with Lorilleux for that
+evening. Had anyone ever seen such a miserly fellow? To think that they were
+going to walk off with two or three grains of his gold dust! All the fuss they
+made was from pure avarice. His sister thought perhaps that he would never
+marry, so as to enable her to economize four sous on her dinner every day.
+However, it would take place all the same on July 29. He did not care a hang
+for them!
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Nevertheless, Gervaise still felt depressed. Tormented by a foolish
+fearfulness, she peered anxiously into every dark shadow along the stair-rail
+as she descended. It was dark and deserted at this hour, lit only by a single
+gas jet on the second floor. In the shadowy depths of the dark pit, it gave a
+spot of brightness, even with its flame turned so low. It was now silent behind
+the closed doors; the weary laborers had gone to sleep after eating. However,
+there was a soft laugh from Mademoiselle Clemence&rsquo;s room and a ray of
+light shone through the keyhole of Mademoiselle Remanjou&rsquo;s door. She was
+still busy cutting out dresses for the dolls. Downstairs at Madame
+Gaudron&rsquo;s, a child was crying. The sinks on the landings smelled more
+offensive than ever in the midst of the darkness and stillness.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+In the courtyard, Gervaise turned back for a last look at the tenement as
+Coupeau called out to the concierge. The building seemed to have grown larger
+under the moonless sky. The drip-drip of water from the faucet sounded loud in
+the quiet. Gervaise felt that the building was threatening to suffocate her and
+a chill went through her body. It was a childish fear and she smiled at it a
+moment later.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Watch your step,&rdquo; warned Coupeau.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+To get to the entrance, Gervaise had to jump over a wide puddle that had
+drained from the dye shop. The puddle was blue now, the deep blue of a summer
+sky. The reflections from the night light of the concierge sparkled in it like
+stars.
+</p>
+
+</div><!--end chapter-->
+
+<div class="chapter">
+
+<h2><a name="link2HCH0003" id="link2HCH0003"></a>
+CHAPTER III.</h2>
+
+<p>
+Gervaise did not want to have a wedding-party! What was the use of spending
+money? Besides, she still felt somewhat ashamed; it seemed to her quite
+unnecessary to parade the marriage before the whole neighborhood. But Coupeau
+cried out at that. One could not be married without having a feed. He did not
+care a button for the people of the neighborhood! Nothing elaborate, just a
+short walk and a rabbit ragout in the first eating-house they fancied. No music
+with dessert. Just a glass or two and then back home.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The zinc-worker, chaffing and joking, at length got the young woman to consent
+by promising her that there should be no larks. He would keep his eye on the
+glasses, to prevent sunstrokes. Then he organized a sort of picnic at five
+francs a head, at the &ldquo;Silver Windmill,&rdquo; kept by Auguste, on the
+Boulevard de la Chapelle. It was a small cafe with moderate charges and had a
+dancing place in the rear, beneath the three acacias in the courtyard. They
+would be very comfortable on the first floor. During the next ten days, he got
+hold of guests in the house where his sister lived in the Rue de la
+Goutte-d&rsquo;Or&mdash;Monsieur Madinier, Mademoiselle Remanjou, Madame
+Gaudron and her husband. He even ended by getting Gervaise to consent to the
+presence of two of his comrades&mdash;Bibi-the-Smoker and My-Boots. No doubt
+My-Boots was a boozer; but then he had such a fantastic appetite that he was
+always asked to join those sort of gatherings, just for the sight of the
+caterer&rsquo;s mug when he beheld that bottomless pit swallowing his twelve
+pounds of bread. The young woman on her side, promised to bring her employer
+Madame Fauconnier and the Boches, some very agreeable people. On counting, they
+found there would be fifteen to sit down to table, which was quite enough. When
+there are too many, they always wind up by quarrelling.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Coupeau however, had no money. Without wishing to show off, he intended to
+behave handsomely. He borrowed fifty francs of his employer. Out of that, he
+first of all purchased the wedding-ring&mdash;a twelve franc gold wedding-ring,
+which Lorilleux procured for him at the wholesale price of nine francs. He then
+bought himself a frock coat, a pair of trousers and a waistcoat at a
+tailor&rsquo;s in the Rue Myrrha, to whom he gave merely twenty-five francs on
+account; his patent leather shoes and his hat were still good enough. When he
+had put by the ten francs for his and Gervaise&rsquo;s share of the
+feast&mdash;the two children not being charged for&mdash;he had exactly six
+francs left&mdash;the price of a low mass at the altar of the poor. He had no
+liking for those black crows, the priests. It would gripe him to pay his last
+six francs to keep their whistles wet; however, a marriage without a mass
+wasn&rsquo;t a real marriage at all.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Going to the church himself, he bargained for a whole hour with a little old
+priest in a dirty cassock who was as sharp at dealing as a push-cart peddler.
+Coupeau felt like boxing his ears. For a joke, he asked the priest if he
+didn&rsquo;t have a second-hand mass that would do for a modest young couple.
+The priest, mumbling that God would take small pleasure in blessing their
+union, finally let him have his mass for five francs. Well after all, that
+meant twenty sous saved.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Gervaise also wanted to look decent. As soon as the marriage was settled, she
+made her arrangements, worked extra time in the evenings, and managed to put
+thirty francs on one side. She had a great longing for a little silk mantle
+marked thirteen francs in the Rue du Faubourg Poissonniere. She treated herself
+to it, and then bought for ten francs off the husband of a washerwoman who had
+died in Madame Fauconnier&rsquo;s house a blue woolen dress, which she altered
+to fit herself. With the seven francs remaining she procured a pair of cotton
+gloves, a rose for her cap, and some shoes for Claude, her eldest boy.
+Fortunately the youngsters&rsquo; blouses were passable. She spent four nights
+cleaning everything, and mending the smallest holes in her stockings and
+chemise.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+On Friday night, the eve of the great day, Gervaise and Coupeau had still a
+good deal of running about to do up till eleven o&rsquo;clock, after returning
+home from work. Then before separating for the night they spent an hour
+together in the young woman&rsquo;s room, happy at being about to be released
+from their awkward position. In spite of the fact that they had originally
+resolved not to put themselves out to impress the neighbors, they had ended by
+taking it seriously and working themselves till they were weary. By the time
+they said &ldquo;Good-night,&rdquo; they were almost asleep on their feet. They
+breathed a great sigh of relief now that everything was ready.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Coupeau&rsquo;s witnesses were to be Monsieur Madinier and Bibi-the-Smoker.
+They were counting on Lorilleux and Boche for Gervaise&rsquo;s witnesses. They
+were to go quietly to the mayor&rsquo;s office and the church, just the six of
+them, without a whole procession of people trailing behind them. The
+bridegroom&rsquo;s two sisters had even declared that they would stay home,
+their presence not being necessary. Coupeau&rsquo;s mother, however, had sobbed
+and wailed, threatening to go ahead of them and hide herself in some corner of
+the church, until they had promised to take her along. The meeting of the
+guests was set for one o&rsquo;clock at the Silver Windmill. From there, they
+would go to Saint-Denis, going out by railroad and returning on foot along the
+highway in order to work up an appetite. The party promised to be quite all
+right.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Saturday morning, while getting dressed, Coupeau felt a qualm of uneasiness in
+view of the single franc in his pocket. He began to think that it was a matter
+of ordinary courtesy to offer a glass of wine and a slice of ham to the
+witnesses while awaiting dinner. Also, there might be unforeseen expenses. So,
+after taking Claude and Etienne to stay with Madame Boche, who was to bring
+them to the dinner later that afternoon, he hurried over to the Rue de la
+Goutte-d&rsquo;Or to borrow ten francs from Lorilleux. Having to do that griped
+him immensely as he could guess the attitude his brother-in-law would take. The
+latter did grumble a bit, but ended by lending him two five-franc pieces.
+However, Coupeau overheard his sister muttering under her breath, &ldquo;This
+is a fine beginning.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The ceremony at the mayor&rsquo;s was to take place at half-past ten. It was
+beautiful weather&mdash;a magnificent sun seemed to roast the streets. So as
+not to be stared at the bride and bridegroom, the old mother, and the four
+witnesses separated into two bands. Gervaise walked in front with Lorilleux,
+who gave her his arm; whilst Monsieur Madinier followed with mother Coupeau.
+Then, twenty steps behind on the opposite side of the way, came Coupeau, Boche,
+and Bibi-the-Smoker. These three were in black frock coats, walking erect and
+swinging their arms. Boche&rsquo;s trousers were bright yellow. Bibi-the-Smoker
+didn&rsquo;t have a waistcoat so he was buttoned up to the neck with only a bit
+of his cravat showing. The only one in a full dress suit was Monsieur Madinier
+and passers-by gazed at this well-dressed gentleman escorting the huge bulk of
+mother Coupeau in her green shawl and black bonnet with red ribbons.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Gervaise looked very gay and sweet in her dress of vivid blue and with her new
+silk mantle fitted tightly to her shoulders. She listened politely to the
+sneering remarks of Lorilleux, who seemed buried in the depths of the immense
+overcoat he was wearing. From time to time, Gervaise would turn her head a
+little to smile brightly at Coupeau, who was rather uncomfortable under the hot
+sun in his new clothes.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Though they walked very slowly, they arrived at the mayor&rsquo;s quite half an
+hour too soon. And as the mayor was late, their turn was not reached till close
+upon eleven o&rsquo;clock. They sat down on some chairs and waited in a corner
+of the apartment, looking by turns at the high ceiling and bare walls, talking
+low, and over-politely pushing back their chairs each time that one of the
+attendants passed. Yet among themselves they called the mayor a sluggard,
+saying he must be visiting his blonde to get a massage for his gout, or that
+maybe he&rsquo;d swallowed his official sash.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+However, when the mayor did put in his appearance, they rose respectfully in
+his honor. They were asked to sit down again and they had to wait through three
+other marriages. The hall was crowded with the three bourgeois wedding parties:
+brides all in white, little girls with carefully curled hair, bridesmaids
+wearing wide sashes, an endless procession of ladies and gentlemen dressed in
+their best and looking very stylish.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+When at length they were called, they almost missed being married altogether,
+Bibi-the-Smoker having disappeared. Boche discovered him outside smoking his
+pipe. Well! They were a nice lot inside there to humbug people about like that,
+just because one hadn&rsquo;t yellow kid gloves to shove under their noses! And
+the various formalities&mdash;the reading of the Code, the different questions
+to be put, the signing of all the documents&mdash;were all got through so
+rapidly that they looked at each other with an idea that they had been robbed
+of a good half of the ceremony. Gervaise, dizzy, her heart full, pressed her
+handkerchief to her lips. Mother Coupeau wept bitterly. All had signed the
+register, writing their names in big struggling letters with the exception of
+the bridegroom, who not being able to write, had put his cross. They each gave
+four sous for the poor. When an attendant handed Coupeau the marriage
+certificate, the latter, prompted by Gervaise who nudged his elbow, handed him
+another five sous.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+It was a fair walk from the mayor&rsquo;s office in the town hall to the
+church. The men stopped along the way to have a beer. Mother Coupeau and
+Gervaise took cassis with water. Then they had to trudge along the long street
+where the sun glared straight down without the relief of shade.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+When they arrived at the church they were hurried along and asked if they came
+so late in order to make a mockery of religion. A priest came forward, his face
+pale and resentful from having to delay his lunch. An altar boy in a soiled
+surplice ran before him.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The mass went very fast, with the priest turning, bowing his head, spreading
+out his arms, making all the ritual gestures in haste while casting sidelong
+glances at the group. Gervaise and Coupeau, before the altar, were embarrassed,
+not knowing when they should kneel or rise or seat themselves, expecting some
+indication from the attendant. The witnesses, not knowing what was proper,
+remained standing during the ceremony. Mother Coupeau was weeping again and
+shedding her tears into the missal she had borrowed from a neighbor.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Meanwhile, the noon chimes had sounded and the church began to fill with noise
+from the shuffling feet of sacristans and the clatter of chairs being put back
+in place. The high altar was apparently being prepared for some special
+ceremony.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Thus, in the depths of this obscure chapel, amid the floating dust, the surly
+priest placed his withered hands on the bared heads of Gervaise and Coupeau,
+blessing their union amid a hubbub like that of moving day. The wedding party
+signed another registry, this time in the sacristy, and then found themselves
+out in the bright sunlight before the church doors where they stood for a
+moment, breathless and confused from having been carried along at such a
+break-neck speed.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Voila!&rdquo; said Coupeau with an embarrassed laugh. &ldquo;Well, it
+sure didn&rsquo;t take long. They shove it at you so; it&rsquo;s like being at
+the painless dentist&rsquo;s who doesn&rsquo;t give you time to cry out. Here
+you get a painless wedding!&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Yes, it&rsquo;s a quick job,&rdquo; Lorilleux smirked. &ldquo;In five
+minutes you&rsquo;re tied together for the rest of your life. You poor Young
+Cassis, you&rsquo;ve had it.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The four witnesses whacked Coupeau on the shoulders as he arched his back
+against the friendly blows. Meanwhile Gervaise was hugging and kissing mother
+Coupeau, her eyes moist, a smile lighting her face. She replied reassuringly to
+the old woman&rsquo;s sobbing: &ldquo;Don&rsquo;t worry, I&rsquo;ll do my best.
+I want so much to have a happy life. If it doesn&rsquo;t work out it
+won&rsquo;t be my fault. Anyhow, it&rsquo;s done now. It&rsquo;s up to us to
+get along together and do the best we can for each other.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+After that they went straight to the Silver Windmill. Coupeau had taken his
+wife&rsquo;s arm. They walked quickly, laughing as though carried away, quite
+two hundred steps ahead of the others, without noticing the houses or the
+passers-by, or the vehicles. The deafening noises of the faubourg sounded like
+bells in their ears. When they reached the wineshop, Coupeau at once ordered
+two bottles of wine, some bread and some slices of ham, to be served in the
+little glazed closet on the ground floor, without plates or table cloth, simply
+to have a snack. Then, noticing that Boche and Bibi-the-Smoker seemed to be
+very hungry, he had a third bottle brought, as well as a slab of brie cheese.
+Mother Coupeau was not hungry, being too choked up to be able to eat. Gervaise
+found herself very thirsty, and drank several large glasses of water with a
+small amount of wine added.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;I&rsquo;ll settle for this,&rdquo; said Coupeau, going at once to the
+bar, where he paid four francs and five sous.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+It was now one o&rsquo;clock and the other guests began to arrive. Madame
+Fauconnier, a fat woman, still good looking, first put in an appearance; she
+wore a chintz dress with a flowery pattern, a pink tie and a cap over-trimmed
+with flowers. Next came Mademoiselle Remanjou, looking very thin in the eternal
+black dress which she seemed to keep on even when she went to bed; and the two
+Gaudrons&mdash;the husband, like some heavy animal and almost bursting his
+brown jacket at the slightest movement, the wife, an enormous woman, whose
+figure indicated evident signs of an approaching maternity and whose stiff
+violet colored skirt still more increased her rotundity. Coupeau explained that
+they were not to wait for My-Boots; his comrade would join the party on the
+Route de Saint-Denis.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Well!&rdquo; exclaimed Madame Lerat as she entered, &ldquo;it&rsquo;ll
+pour in torrents soon! That&rsquo;ll be pleasant!&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+And she called everyone to the door of the wineshop to see the clouds as black
+as ink which were rising rapidly to the south of Paris. Madame Lerat, eldest of
+the Coupeaus, was a tall, gaunt woman who talked through her nose. She was
+unattractively dressed in a puce-colored robe that hung loosely on her and had
+such long dangling fringes that they made her look like a skinny poodle coming
+out of the water. She brandished her umbrella like a club. After greeting
+Gervaise, she said, &ldquo;You&rsquo;ve no idea. The heat in the street is like
+a slap on the face. You&rsquo;d think someone was throwing fire at you.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Everyone agreed that they knew the storm was coming. It was in the air.
+Monsieur Madinier said that he had seen it as they were coming out of the
+church. Lorilleux mentioned that his corns were aching and he hadn&rsquo;t been
+able to sleep since three in the morning. A storm was due. It had been much too
+hot for three days in a row.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Well, maybe it will just be a little mist,&rdquo; Coupeau said several
+times, standing at the door and anxiously studying the sky. &ldquo;Now we have
+to wait only for my sister. We&rsquo;ll start as soon as she arrives.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Madame Lorilleux was late. Madame Lerat had stopped by so they could come
+together, but found her only beginning to get dressed. The two sisters had
+argued. The widow whispered in her brother&rsquo;s ear, &ldquo;I left her flat!
+She&rsquo;s in a dreadful mood. You&rsquo;ll see.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+And the wedding party had to wait another quarter of an hour, walking about the
+wineshop, elbowed and jostled in the midst of the men who entered to drink a
+glass of wine at the bar. Now and again Boche, or Madame Fauconnier, or
+Bibi-the-Smoker left the others and went to the edge of the pavement, looking
+up at the sky. The storm was not passing over at all; a darkness was coming on
+and puffs of wind, sweeping along the ground, raised little clouds of white
+dust. At the first clap of thunder, Mademoiselle Remanjou made the sign of the
+cross. All the glances were anxiously directed to the clock over the
+looking-glass; it was twenty minutes to two.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Here it goes!&rdquo; cried Coupeau. &ldquo;It&rsquo;s the angels
+who&rsquo;re weeping.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+A gush of rain swept the pavement, along which some women flew, holding down
+their skirts with both hands. And it was in the midst of this first shower that
+Madame Lorilleux at length arrived, furious and out of breath, and struggling
+on the threshold with her umbrella that would not close.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Did any one ever see such a thing?&rdquo; she exclaimed. &ldquo;It
+caught me just at the door. I felt inclined to go upstairs again and take my
+things off. I should have been wise had I done so. Ah! it&rsquo;s a pretty
+wedding! I said how it would be. I wanted to put it off till next Saturday; and
+it rains because they wouldn&rsquo;t listen to me! So much the better, so much
+the better! I wish the sky would burst!&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Coupeau tried to pacify her without success. He wouldn&rsquo;t have to pay for
+her dress if it was spoilt! She had on a black silk dress in which she was
+nearly choking, the bodice, too tight fitting, was almost bursting the
+button-holes, and was cutting her across the shoulders; while the skirt only
+allowed her to take very short steps in walking. However, the ladies present
+were all staring at her, quite overcome by her costume.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+She appeared not to notice Gervaise, who was sitting beside mother Coupeau. She
+asked her husband for his handkerchief. Then she went into a corner and very
+carefully wiped off the raindrops that had fallen on her silk dress.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The shower had abruptly ceased. The darkness increased, it was almost like
+night&mdash;a livid night rent at times by large flashes of lightning.
+Bibi-the-Smoker said laughingly that it would certainly rain priests. Then the
+storm burst forth with extreme violence. For half an hour the rain came down in
+bucketsful, and the thunder rumbled unceasingly. The men standing up before the
+door contemplated the grey veil of the downpour, the swollen gutters, the
+splashes of water caused by the rain beating into the puddles. The women,
+feeling frightened, had sat down again, holding their hands before their eyes.
+They no longer conversed, they were too upset. A jest Boche made about the
+thunder, saying that St. Peter was sneezing up there, failed to raise a smile.
+But, when the thunder-claps became less frequent and gradually died away in the
+distance, the wedding guests began to get impatient, enraged against the storm,
+cursing and shaking their fists at the clouds. A fine and interminable rain now
+poured down from the sky which had become an ashy grey.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;It&rsquo;s past two o&rsquo;clock,&rdquo; cried Madame Lorilleux.
+&ldquo;We can&rsquo;t stop here for ever.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Mademoiselle Remanjou, having suggested going into the country all the same,
+even though they went no farther than the moat of the fortifications, the
+others scouted the idea: the roads would be in a nice state, one would not even
+be able to sit down on the grass; besides, it did not seem to be all over yet,
+there might perhaps be another downpour. Coupeau, who had been watching a
+workman, completely soaked, yet quietly walking along in the rain, murmured:
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;If that animal My-Boots is waiting for us on the Route de Saint-Denis,
+he won&rsquo;t catch a sunstroke.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+That made some of them laugh; but the general ill-humor increased. It was
+becoming ludicrous. They must decide on something unless they planned to sit
+there, staring at each other, until time for dinner. So for the next quarter of
+an hour, while the persistent rain continued, they tried to think of what to
+do. Bibi-the-Smoker suggested that they play cards. Boche slyly suggesting a
+most amusing game, the game of true confessions. Madame Gaudron thought of
+going to eat onion tarts on the Chaussee Clignancourt. Madame Lerat wanted to
+hear some stories. Gaudron said he wasn&rsquo;t a bit put out and thought they
+were quite well off where they were, out of the downpour. He suggested sitting
+down to dinner immediately.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+There was a discussion after each proposal. Some said that this would put
+everybody to sleep or that that would make people think they were stupid.
+Lorilleux had to get his word in. He finally suggested a walk along the outer
+Boulevards to Pere Lachaise cemetery. They could visit the tomb of Heloise and
+Abelard. Madame Lorilleux exploded, no longer able to control herself. She was
+leaving, she was. Were they trying to make fun of her? She got all dressed up
+and came out in the rain. And for what? To be wasting time in a wineshop. No,
+she had had enough of this wedding party. She&rsquo;d rather be in her own
+home. Coupeau and Lorilleux had to get between her and the door to keep her
+from leaving. She kept telling them, &ldquo;Get out of my way! I am leaving, I
+tell you!&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Lorilleux finally succeeded in calming her down. Coupeau went over to Gervaise,
+who had been sitting quietly in a corner with mother Coupeau and Madame
+Fauconnier.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;You haven&rsquo;t suggested anything,&rdquo; he said to her.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Oh! Whatever they want,&rdquo; she replied, laughing. &ldquo;I
+don&rsquo;t mind. We can go out or stay here.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+She seemed aglow with contentment. She had spoken to each guest as they
+arrived. She spoke sensibly, in her soft voice, not getting into any
+disagreements. During the downpour, she had sat with her eyes wide open,
+watching the lightning as though she could see the future in the sudden
+flashes.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Monsieur Madinier had up to this time not proposed anything. He was leaning
+against the bar, with the tails of his dress coat thrust apart, while he fully
+maintained the important air of an employer. He kept on expectorating, and
+rolled his big eyes about.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;<i>Mon Dieu</i>!&rdquo; said he, &ldquo;we might go to the
+Museum.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+And he stroked his chin, as he blinkingly consulted the other members of the
+party.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;There are antiquities, pictures, paintings, a whole heap of things. It
+is very instructive. Perhaps you have never been there. Oh! it is quite worth
+seeing at least once in a while.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+They looked at each other interrogatively. No, Gervaise had never been; Madame
+Fauconnier neither, nor Boche, nor the others. Coupeau thought he had been one
+Sunday, but he was not sure. They hesitated, however, when Madame Lorilleux,
+greatly impressed by Monsieur Madinier&rsquo;s importance, thought the
+suggestion a very worthy and respectable one. As they were wasting the day, and
+were all dressed up, they might as well go somewhere for their own instruction.
+Everyone approved. Then, as it still rained a little, they borrowed some
+umbrellas from the proprietor of the wineshop, old blue, green, and brown
+umbrellas, forgotten by different customers, and started off to the Museum.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The wedding party turned to the right, and descended into Paris along the
+Faubourg Saint-Denis. Coupeau and Gervaise again took the lead, almost running
+and keeping a good distance in front of the others. Monsieur Madinier now gave
+his arm to Madame Lorilleux, mother Coupeau having remained behind in the
+wineshop on account of her old legs. Then came Lorilleux and Madame Lerat,
+Boche and Madame Fauconnier, Bibi-the-Smoker and Mademoiselle Remanjou, and
+finally the two Gaudrons. They were twelve and made a pretty long procession on
+the pavement.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;I swear to you, we had nothing to do with it,&rdquo; Madame Lorilleux
+explained to Monsieur Madinier. &ldquo;We don&rsquo;t even know how they met,
+or, we know only too well, but that&rsquo;s not for us to discuss. My husband
+even had to buy the wedding ring. We were scarcely out of bed this morning when
+he had to lend them ten francs. And, not a member of her family at her wedding,
+what kind of bride is that? She says she has a sister in Paris who works for a
+pork butcher. Why didn&rsquo;t she invite her?&rdquo; She stopped to point at
+Gervaise, who was limping awkwardly because of the slope of the pavement.
+&ldquo;Just look at her. Clump-clump.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Clump-clump&rdquo; ran through the wedding procession. Lorilleux laughed
+under his breath, and said they ought to call her that, but Madame Fauconnier
+stood up for Gervaise. They shouldn&rsquo;t make fun of her; she was neat as a
+pin and did a good job when there was washing to be done.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+When the wedding procession came out of the Faubourg Saint-Denis, they had to
+cross the boulevard. The street had been transformed into a morass of sticky
+mud by the storm. It had started to pour again and they had opened the assorted
+umbrellas. The women picked their way carefully through the mud, holding their
+skirts high as the men held the sorry-looking umbrellas over their heads. The
+procession stretched out the width of the street.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;It&rsquo;s a masquerade!&rdquo; yelled two street urchins.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+People turned to stare. These couples parading across the boulevard added a
+splash of vivid color against the damp background. It was a parade of a strange
+medley of styles showing fancy used clothing such as constitute the luxury of
+the poor. The gentlemen&rsquo;s hats caused the most merriment, old hats
+preserved for years in dark and dusty cupboards, in a variety of comical forms:
+tall ones, flattened ones, sharply peaked ones, hats with extraordinary brims,
+curled back or flat, too narrow or too wide. Then at the very end, Madame
+Gaudron came along with her bright dress over her bulging belly and caused the
+smiles of the audience to grow even wider. The procession made no effort to
+hasten its progress. They were, in fact, rather pleased to attract so much
+attention and admiration.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Look! Here comes the bride!&rdquo; one of the urchins shouted, pointing
+to Madame Gaudron. &ldquo;Oh! Isn&rsquo;t it too bad! She must have swallowed
+something!&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The entire wedding procession burst into laughter. Bibi-the-Smoker turned
+around and laughed. Madame Gaudron laughed the most of all. She wasn&rsquo;t
+ashamed as she thought more than one of the women watching had looked at her
+with envy.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+They turned into the Rue de Clery. Then they took the Rue du Mail. On reaching
+the Place des Victoires, there was a halt. The bride&rsquo;s left shoe lace had
+come undone, and as she tied it up again at the foot of the statue of Louis
+XIV., the couples pressed behind her waiting, and joking about the bit of calf
+of her leg that she displayed. At length, after passing down the Rue
+Croix-des-Petits-Champs, they reached the Louvre.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Monsieur Madinier politely asked to be their cicerone. It was a big place, and
+they might lose themselves; besides, he knew the best parts, because he had
+often come there with an artist, a very intelligent fellow from whom a large
+dealer bought designs to put on his cardboard boxes. Down below, when the
+wedding party entered the Assyrian Museum, a slight shiver passed through it.
+The deuce! It was not at all warm there; the hall would have made a capital
+cellar. And the couples slowly advanced, their chins raised, their eyes
+blinking, between the gigantic stone figures, the black marble gods, dumb in
+their hieratic rigidity, and the monstrous beasts, half cats and half women,
+with death-like faces, attenuated noses, and swollen lips. They thought all
+these things very ugly. The stone carvings of the present day were a great deal
+better. An inscription in Phoenician characters amazed them. No one could
+possibly have ever read that scrawl. But Monsieur Madinier, already up on the
+first landing with Madame Lorilleux, called to them, shouting beneath the
+vaulted ceiling:
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Come along! They&rsquo;re nothing, all those things! The things to see
+are on the first floor!&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The severe barrenness of the staircase made them very grave. An attendant,
+superbly attired in a red waistcoat and a coat trimmed with gold lace, who
+seemed to be awaiting them on the landing, increased their emotion. It was with
+great respect, and treading as softly as possible, that they entered the French
+Gallery.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Then, without stopping, their eyes occupied with the gilding of the frames,
+they followed the string of little rooms, glancing at the passing pictures too
+numerous to be seen properly. It would have required an hour before each, if
+they had wanted to understand it. What a number of pictures! There was no end
+to them. They must be worth a mint of money. Right at the end, Monsieur
+Madinier suddenly ordered a halt opposite the &ldquo;Raft of the Medusa&rdquo;
+and he explained the subject to them. All deeply impressed and motionless, they
+uttered not a word. When they started off again, Boche expressed the general
+feeling, saying it was marvellous.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+In the Apollo Gallery, the inlaid flooring especially astonished the
+party&mdash;a shining floor, as clear as a mirror, and which reflected the legs
+of the seats. Mademoiselle Remanjou kept her eyes closed, because she could not
+help thinking that she was walking on water. They called to Madame Gaudron to
+be careful how she trod on account of her condition. Monsieur Madinier wanted
+to show them the gilding and paintings of the ceiling; but it nearly broke
+their necks to look up above, and they could distinguish nothing. Then, before
+entering the Square Salon, he pointed to a window, saying:
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;That&rsquo;s the balcony from which Charles IX. fired on the
+people.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+He looked back to make sure the party was following. In the middle of the Salon
+Carre, he held up his hand. &ldquo;There are only masterpieces here,&rdquo; he
+said, in a subdued voice, as though in church. They went all around the room.
+Gervaise wanted to know about &ldquo;The Wedding at Cana.&rdquo; Coupeau paused
+to stare at the &ldquo;Mona Lisa,&rdquo; saying that she reminded him of one of
+his aunts. Boche and Bibi-the-Smoker snickered at the nudes, pointing them out
+to each other and winking. The Gaudrons looked at the &ldquo;Virgin&rdquo; of
+Murillo, he with his mouth open, she with her hands folded on her belly.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+When they had been all around the Salon, Monsieur Madinier wished them to go
+round it again, it was so worth while. He was very attentive to Madame
+Lorilleux, because of her silk dress; and each time that she questioned him he
+answered her gravely, with great assurance. She was curious about
+&ldquo;Titian&rsquo;s Mistress&rdquo; because the yellow hair resembled her
+own. He told her it was &ldquo;La Belle Ferronniere,&rdquo; a mistress of Henry
+IV. about whom there had been a play at the Ambigu.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Then the wedding party invaded the long gallery occupied by the Italian and
+Flemish schools. More paintings, always paintings, saints, men and women, with
+faces which some of them could understand, landscapes that were all black,
+animals turned yellow, a medley of people and things, the great mixture of the
+colors of which was beginning to give them all violent headaches. Monsieur
+Madinier no longer talked as he slowly headed the procession, which followed
+him in good order, with stretched necks and upcast eyes. Centuries of art
+passed before their bewildered ignorance, the fine sharpness of the early
+masters, the splendors of the Venetians, the vigorous life, beautiful with
+light, of the Dutch painters. But what interested them most were the artists
+who were copying, with their easels planted amongst the people, painting away
+unrestrainedly; an old lady, mounted on a pair of high steps, working a big
+brush over the delicate sky of an immense painting, struck them as something
+most peculiar.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Slowly the word must have gone around that a wedding party was visiting the
+Louvre. Several painters came over with big smiles. Some visitors were so
+curious that they went to sit on benches ahead of the group in order to be
+comfortable while they watched them pass in review. Museum guards bit back
+comments. The wedding party was now quite weary and beginning to drag their
+feet.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Monsieur Madinier was reserving himself to give more effect to a surprise that
+he had in store. He went straight to the &ldquo;Kermesse&rdquo; of Rubens; but
+still he said nothing. He contented himself with directing the others&rsquo;
+attention to the picture by a sprightly glance. The ladies uttered faint cries
+the moment they brought their noses close to the painting. Then, blushing
+deeply they turned away their heads. The men though kept them there, cracking
+jokes, and seeking for the coarser details.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Just look!&rdquo; exclaimed Boche, &ldquo;it&rsquo;s worth the money.
+There&rsquo;s one spewing, and another, he&rsquo;s watering the dandelions; and
+that one&mdash;oh! that one. Ah, well! They&rsquo;re a nice clean lot, they
+are!&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Let us be off,&rdquo; said Monsieur Madinier, delighted with his
+success. &ldquo;There is nothing more to see here.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+They retraced their steps, passing again through the Salon Carre and the Apollo
+Gallery. Madame Lerat and Mademoiselle Remanjou complained, declaring that
+their legs could scarcely bear them. But the cardboard box manufacturer wanted
+to show Lorilleux the old jewelry. It was close by in a little room which he
+could find with his eyes shut. However, he made a mistake and led the wedding
+party astray through seven or eight cold, deserted rooms, only ornamented with
+severe looking-glass cases, containing numberless broken pots and hideous
+little figures.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+While looking for an exit they stumbled into the collection of drawings. It was
+immense. Through room after room they saw nothing interesting, just scribblings
+on paper that filled all the cases and covered the walls. They thought there
+was no end to these drawings.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Monsieur Madinier, losing his head, not willing to admit that he did not know
+his way, ascended a flight of stairs, making the wedding party mount to the
+next floor. This time they traversed the Naval Museum, among models of
+instruments and cannons, plans in relief, and vessels as tiny as playthings.
+After going a long way, and walking for a quarter of an hour, the party came
+upon another staircase; and, having descended this, found itself once more
+surrounded by the drawings. Then despair took possession of them as they
+wandered at random through long halls, following Monsieur Madinier, who was
+furious and mopping the sweat from his forehead. He accused the government of
+having moved the doors around. Museum guards and visitors looked on with
+astonishment as the procession, still in a column of couples, passed by. They
+passed again through the Salon Carre, the French Gallery and then along the
+cases where minor Eastern divinities slumbered peacefully. It seemed they would
+never find their way out. They were getting tired and made a lot of noise.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Closing time! Closing time!&rdquo; called out the attendants, in a loud
+tone of voice.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+And the wedding party was nearly locked in. An attendant was obliged to place
+himself at the head of it, and conduct it to a door. Then in the courtyard of
+the Louvre, when it had recovered its umbrellas from the cloakroom, it breathed
+again. Monsieur Madinier regained his assurance. He had made a mistake in not
+turning to the left, now he recollected that the jewelry was to the left. The
+whole party pretended to be very pleased at having seen all they had.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Four o&rsquo;clock was striking. There were still two hours to be employed
+before the dinner time, so it was decided they should take a stroll, just to
+occupy the interval. The ladies, who were very tired, would have preferred to
+sit down; but, as no one offered any refreshments, they started off, following
+the line of quays. There they encountered another shower and so sharp a one
+that in spite of the umbrellas, the ladies&rsquo; dresses began to get wet.
+Madame Lorilleux, her heart sinking within her each time a drop fell upon her
+black silk, proposed that they should shelter themselves under the Pont-Royal;
+besides if the others did not accompany her, she threatened to go all by
+herself. And the procession marched under one of the arches of the bridge. They
+were very comfortable there. It was, most decidedly a capital idea! The ladies,
+spreading their handkerchiefs over the paving-stones, sat down with their knees
+wide apart, and pulled out the blades of grass that grew between the stones
+with both hands, whilst they watched the dark flowing water as though they were
+in the country. The men amused themselves with calling out very loud, so as to
+awaken the echoes of the arch. Boche and Bibi-the-Smoker shouted insults into
+the air at the top of their voices, one after the other. They laughed
+uproariously when the echo threw the insults back at them. When their throats
+were hoarse from shouting, they made a game of skipping flat stones on the
+surface of the Seine.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The shower had ceased but the whole party felt so comfortable that no one
+thought of moving away. The Seine was flowing by, an oily sheet carrying bottle
+corks, vegetable peelings, and other refuse that sometimes collected in
+temporary whirlpools moving along with the turbulent water. Endless traffic
+rumbled on the bridge overhead, the noisy bustle of Paris, of which they could
+glimpse only the rooftops to the left and right, as though they were in the
+bottom of a deep pit.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Mademoiselle Remanjou sighed; if the leaves had been out this would have
+reminded her of a bend of the Marne where she used to go with a young man. It
+still made her cry to think of him.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+At last, Monsieur Madinier gave the signal for departure. They passed through
+the Tuileries gardens, in the midst of a little community of children, whose
+hoops and balls upset the good order of the couples. Then as the wedding party
+on arriving at the Place Vendome looked up at the column, Monsieur Madinier
+gallantly offered to treat the ladies to a view from the top. His suggestion
+was considered extremely amusing. Yes, yes, they would go up; it would give
+them something to laugh about for a long time. Besides, it would be full of
+interest for those persons who had never been higher than a cow pasture.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Do you think Clump-clump will venture inside there with her leg all out
+of place?&rdquo; murmured Madame Lorilleux.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;I&rsquo;ll go up with pleasure,&rdquo; said Madame Lerat, &ldquo;but I
+won&rsquo;t have any men walking behind me.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+And the whole party ascended. In the narrow space afforded by the spiral
+staircase, the twelve persons crawled up one after the other, stumbling against
+the worn steps, and clinging to the walls. Then, when the obscurity became
+complete, they almost split their sides with laughing. The ladies screamed when
+the gentlemen pinched their legs. But they were weren&rsquo;t stupid enough to
+say anything! The proper plan is to think that it is the mice nibbling at them.
+It wasn&rsquo;t very serious; the men knew when to stop.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Boche thought of a joke and everyone took it up. They called down to Madame
+Gaudron to ask her if she could squeeze her belly through. Just think! If she
+should get stuck there, she would completely block the passage, and how would
+they ever get out? They laughed so at the jokes about her belly that the column
+itself vibrated. Boche was now quite carried away and declared that they were
+growing old climbing up this chimney pipe. Was it ever coming to an end, or did
+it go right up to heaven? He tried to frighten the ladies by telling them the
+structure was shaking.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Coupeau, meanwhile, said nothing. He was behind Gervaise, with his arm around
+her waist, and felt that she was everything perfect to him. When they suddenly
+emerged again into the daylight, he was just in the act of kissing her on the
+cheek.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Well! You&rsquo;re a nice couple; you don&rsquo;t stand on
+ceremony,&rdquo; said Madame Lorilleux with a scandalized air.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Bibi-the-Smoker pretended to be furious. He muttered between his teeth.
+&ldquo;You made such a noise together! I wasn&rsquo;t even able to count the
+steps.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+But Monsieur Madinier was already up on the platform, pointing out the
+different monuments. Neither Madame Fauconnier nor Mademoiselle Remanjou would
+on any consideration leave the staircase. The thought of the pavement below
+made their blood curdle, and they contented themselves with glancing out of the
+little door. Madame Lerat, who was bolder, went round the narrow terrace,
+keeping close to the bronze dome; but, <i>mon Dieu</i>, it gave one a rude
+emotion to think that one only had to slip off. The men were a little paler
+than usual as they stared down at the square below. You would think you were up
+in mid-air, detached from everything. No, it wasn&rsquo;t fun, it froze your
+very insides.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Monsieur Madinier told them to raise their eyes and look straight into the
+distance to avoid feeling dizzy. He went on pointing out the Invalides, the
+Pantheon, Notre Dame and the Montmartre hill. Madame Lorilleux asked if they
+could see the place where they were to have dinner, the Silver Windmill on the
+Boulevard de la Chapelle. For ten minutes they tried to see it, even arguing
+about it. Everyone had their own idea where it was.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;It wasn&rsquo;t worth while coming up here to bite each other&rsquo;s
+noses off,&rdquo; said Boche, angrily as he turned to descend the staircase.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The wedding party went down, unspeaking and sulky, awakening no other sound
+beyond that of shoes clanking on the stone steps. When it reached the bottom,
+Monsieur Madinier wished to pay; but Coupeau would not permit him, and hastened
+to place twenty-four sous into the keeper&rsquo;s hand, two sous for each
+person. So they returned by the Boulevards and the Faubourg du Poissonniers.
+Coupeau, however, considered that their outing could not end like that. He
+bundled them all into a wineshop where they took some vermouth.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The repast was ordered for six o&rsquo;clock. At the Silver Windmill, they had
+been waiting for the wedding party for a good twenty minutes. Madame Boche, who
+had got a lady living in the same house to attend to her duties for the
+evening, was conversing with mother Coupeau in the first floor room, in front
+of the table, which was all laid out; and the two youngsters, Claude and
+Etienne, whom she had brought with her, were playing about beneath the table
+and amongst the chairs. When Gervaise, on entering caught sight of the little
+ones, whom she had not seen all the day, she took them on her knees, and
+caressed and kissed them.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Have they been good?&rdquo; asked she of Madame Boche. &ldquo;I hope
+they haven&rsquo;t worried you too much.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+And as the latter related the things the little rascals had done during the
+afternoon, and which would make one die with laughing, the mother again took
+them up and pressed them to her breast, seized with an overpowering outburst of
+maternal affection.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;It&rsquo;s not very pleasant for Coupeau, all the same,&rdquo; Madame
+Lorilleux was saying to the other ladies, at the end of the room.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Gervaise had kept her smiling peacefulness from the morning, but after the long
+walk she appeared almost sad at times as she watched her husband and the
+Lorilleuxs in a thoughtful way. She had the feeling that Coupeau was a little
+afraid of his sister. The evening before, he had been talking big, swearing he
+would put them in their places if they didn&rsquo;t behave. However, she could
+see that in their presence he was hanging on their words, worrying when he
+thought they might be displeased. This gave the young bride some cause for
+worry about the future.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+They were now only waiting for My-Boots, who had not yet put in an appearance.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Oh! blow him!&rdquo; cried Coupeau, &ldquo;let&rsquo;s begin.
+You&rsquo;ll see, he&rsquo;ll soon turn up, he&rsquo;s got a hollow nose, he
+can scent the grub from afar. I say he must be amusing himself, if he&rsquo;s
+still standing like a post on the Route de Saint-Denis!&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Then the wedding party, feeling very lively, sat down making a great noise with
+the chairs. Gervaise was between Lorilleux and Monsieur Madinier, and Coupeau
+between Madame Fauconnier and Madame Lorilleux. The other guests seated
+themselves where they liked, because it always ended with jealousies and
+quarrels, when one settled their places for them. Boche glided to a seat beside
+Madame Lerat. Bibi-the-Smoker had for neighbors Mademoiselle Remanjou and
+Madame Gaudron. As for Madame Boche and mother Coupeau, they were right at the
+end of the table, looking after the children, cutting up their meat and giving
+them something to drink, but not much wine.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Does nobody say grace?&rdquo; asked Boche, whilst the ladies arranged
+their skirts under the table-cloth, so as not to get them stained.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+But Madame Lorilleux paid no attention to such pleasantries. The vermicelli
+soup, which was nearly cold, was gulped down very quickly, their lips making a
+hissing noise against the spoons. Two waiters served at table, dressed in
+little greasy jackets and not over-clean white aprons. By the four open windows
+overlooking the acacias of the courtyard there entered the clear light of the
+close of a stormy day, with the atmosphere purified thereby though without
+sufficiently cooling it. The light reflected from the humid corner of trees
+tinged the haze-filled room with green and made leaf shadows dance along the
+table-cloth, from which came a vague aroma of dampness and mildew.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Two large mirrors, one at each end of the room, seemed to stretch out the
+table. The heavy crockery with which it was set was beginning to turn yellow
+and the cutlery was scratched and grimed with grease. Each time a waiter came
+through the swinging doors from the kitchen a whiff of odorous burnt lard came
+with him.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Don&rsquo;t all talk at once,&rdquo; said Boche, as everyone remained
+silent with his nose in his plate.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+They were drinking the first glass of wine as their eyes followed two meat pies
+which the waiters were handing round when My-Boots entered the room.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Well, you&rsquo;re a scurvy lot, you people!&rdquo; said he.
+&ldquo;I&rsquo;ve been wearing my pins out for three hours waiting on that
+road, and a gendarme even came and asked me for my papers. It isn&rsquo;t right
+to play such dirty tricks on a friend! You might at least have sent me word by
+a commissionaire. Ah! no, you know, joking apart, it&rsquo;s too bad. And with
+all that, it rained so hard that I got my pickets full of water. Honor bright,
+you might still catch enough fish in &rsquo;em for a meal.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The others wriggled with laughter. That animal My-Boots was just a bit on; he
+had certainly already stowed away his two quarts of wine, merely to prevent his
+being bothered by all that frog&rsquo;s liquor with which the storm had deluged
+his limbs.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Hallo! Count Leg-of-Mutton!&rdquo; said Coupeau, &ldquo;just go and sit
+yourself there, beside Madame Gaudron. You see you were expected.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Oh, he did not mind, he would soon catch the others up; and he asked for three
+helpings of soup, platefuls of vermicelli, in which he soaked enormous slices
+of bread. Then, when they had attacked the meat pies, he became the profound
+admiration of everyone at the table. How he stowed it away! The bewildered
+waiters helped each other to pass him bread, thin slices which he swallowed at
+a mouthful. He ended by losing his temper; he insisted on having a loaf placed
+on the table beside him. The landlord, very anxious, came for a moment and
+looked in at the door. The party, which was expecting him, again wriggled with
+laughter. It seemed to upset the caterer. What a rum card he was that My-Boots!
+One day he had eaten a dozen hard-boiled eggs and drank a dozen glasses of wine
+while the clock was striking twelve! There are not many who can do that. And
+Mademoiselle Remanjou, deeply moved, watched My-Boots chew whilst Monsieur
+Madinier, seeking for a word to express his almost respectful astonishment,
+declared that such a capacity was extraordinary.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+There was a brief silence. A waiter had just placed on the table a ragout of
+rabbits in a vast dish as deep as a salad-bowl. Coupeau, who liked fun, started
+another joke.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;I say, waiter, that rabbit&rsquo;s from the housetops. It still
+mews.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+And in fact, a faint mew perfectly imitated seemed to issue from the dish. It
+was Coupeau who did that with his throat, without opening his lips; a talent
+which at all parties, met with decided success, so much so that he never
+ordered a dinner abroad without having a rabbit ragout. After that he purred.
+The ladies pressed their napkins to their mouths to try and stop their
+laughter. Madame Fauconnier asked for a head, she only liked that part.
+Mademoiselle Remanjou had a weakness for the slices of bacon. And as Boche said
+he preferred the little onions when they were nicely broiled, Madame Lerat
+screwed up her lips, and murmured:
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;I can understand that.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+She was a dried up stick, living the cloistered life of a hard-working woman
+imprisoned within her daily routine, who had never had a man stick his nose
+into her room since the death of her husband; yet she had an obsession with
+double meanings and indecent allusions that were sometimes so far off the mark
+that only she understood them.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+As Boche leaned toward her and, in a whisper, asked for an explanation, she
+resumed:
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Little onions, why of course. That&rsquo;s quite enough, I think.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The general conversation was becoming grave. Each one was talking of his trade.
+Monsieur Madinier raved about the cardboard business. There were some real
+artists. For an example, he mentioned Christmas gift boxes, of which he&rsquo;d
+seen samples that were marvels of splendor.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Lorilleux sneered at this; he was extremely vain because of working with gold,
+feeling that it gave a sort of sheen to his fingers and his whole personality.
+&ldquo;In olden times jewelers wore swords like gentlemen.&rdquo; He often
+cited the case of Bernard Palissy, even though he really knew nothing about
+him.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Coupeau told of a masterpiece of a weather vane made by one of his fellow
+workers which included a Greek column, a sheaf of wheat, a basket of fruit, and
+a flag, all beautifully worked out of nothing but strips of zinc shaped and
+soldered together.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Madame Lerat showed Bibi-the-Smoker how to make a rose by rolling the handle of
+her knife between her bony fingers.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+All the while, their voices had been rising louder and louder, competing for
+attention. Shrill comments by Madame Fauconnier were heard. She complained
+about the girls who worked for her, especially a little apprentice who was
+nothing but a tart and had badly scorched some sheets the evening before.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;You may talk,&rdquo; Lorilleux cried, banging his fist down on the
+table, &ldquo;but gold is gold.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+And, in the midst of the silence caused by the statement of this fact, the only
+sound heard was Mademoiselle Remanjou&rsquo;s shrill voice continuing:
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Then I turn up the skirt and stitch it inside. I stick a pin in the head
+to keep the cap on, and that&rsquo;s all; and they are sold for thirteen sous a
+piece.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+She was explaining how she dressed her dolls to My-Boots, whose jaws were
+working slowly like grindstones. He did not listen, though he kept nodding his
+head, but looked after the waiters to prevent them removing any of the dishes
+he had not cleaned out. They had now finished a veal stew with green beans. The
+roast was brought in, two scrawny chickens resting on a bed of water cress
+which was limp from the warming oven.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Outside, only the higher branches of the acacias were touched by the setting
+sun. Inside, the greenish reflected light was thickened by wisps of steam
+rising from the table, now messy with spilled wine and gravy and the debris of
+the dinner. Along the wall were dirty dishes and empty bottles which the
+waiters had piled there like a heap of refuse. It was so hot that the men took
+off their jackets and continued eating in their shirt sleeves.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Madame Boche, please don&rsquo;t spread their butter so thick,&rdquo;
+said Gervaise, who spoke but little, and who was watching Claude and Etienne
+from a distance.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+She got up from her seat, and went and talked for a minute while standing
+behind the little ones&rsquo; chairs. Children did not reason; they would eat
+all day long without refusing a single thing; and then she herself helped them
+to some chicken, a little of the breast. But mother Coupeau said they might,
+just for once in a while, risk an attack of indigestion. Madame Boche, in a low
+voice accused Boche of caressing Madame Lerat&rsquo;s knees. Oh, he was a sly
+one, but he was getting a little too gay. She had certainly seen his hand
+disappear. If he did it again, drat him! she wouldn&rsquo;t hesitate throwing a
+pitcher of water over his head.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+In the partial silence, Monsieur Madinier was talking politics. &ldquo;Their
+law of May 31, is an abominable one. Now you must reside in a place for two
+years. Three millions of citizens are struck off the voting lists. I&rsquo;ve
+been told that Bonaparte is, in reality, very much annoyed for he loves the
+people; he has given them proofs.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+He was a republican; but he admired the prince on account of his uncle, a man
+the like of whom would never be seen again. Bibi-the-Smoker flew into a
+passion. He had worked at the Elysee; he had seen Bonaparte just as he saw
+My-Boots in front of him over there. Well that muff of a president was just
+like a jackass, that was all! It was said that he was going to travel about in
+the direction of Lyons; it would be a precious good riddance of bad rubbish if
+he fell into some hole and broke his neck. But, as the discussion was becoming
+too heated, Coupeau had to interfere.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Ah, well! How simple you all are to quarrel about politics. Politics are
+all humbug! Do such things exist for us? Let there be any one as king, it
+won&rsquo;t prevent me earning my five francs a day, and eating and sleeping;
+isn&rsquo;t that so? No, it&rsquo;s too stupid to argue about!&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Lorilleux shook his head. He was born on the same day as the Count of Chambord,
+the 29th of September, 1820. He was greatly struck with this coincidence,
+indulging himself in a vague dream, in which he established a connection
+between the king&rsquo;s return to France and his own private fortunes. He
+never said exactly what he was expecting, but he led people to suppose that
+when that time arrived something extraordinarily agreeable would happen to him.
+So whenever he had a wish too great to be gratified, he would put it off to
+another time, when the king came back.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Besides,&rdquo; observed he, &ldquo;I saw the Count de Chambord one
+evening.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Every face was turned towards him.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;It&rsquo;s quite true. A stout man, in an overcoat, and with a
+good-natured air. I was at Pequignot&rsquo;s, one of my friends who deals in
+furniture in the Grand Rue de la Chapelle. The Count of Chambord had forgotten
+his umbrella there the day before; so he came in, and just simply said, like
+this: &lsquo;Will you please return me my umbrella?&rsquo; Well, yes, it was
+him; Pequignot gave me his word of honor it was.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Not one of the guests suggested the smallest doubt. They had now arrived at
+dessert and the waiters were clearing the table with much clattering of dishes.
+Madame Lorilleux, who up to then had been very genteel, very much the lady,
+suddenly let fly with a curse. One of the waiters had spilled something wet
+down her neck while removing a dish. This time her silk dress would be stained
+for sure. Monsieur Madinier had to examine her back, but he swore there was
+nothing to be seen.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Two platters of cheese, two dishes of fruit, and a floating island pudding of
+frosted eggs in a deep salad-bowl had now been placed along the middle of the
+table. The pudding caused a moment of respectful attention even though the
+overdone egg whites had flattened on the yellow custard. It was unexpected and
+seemed very fancy.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+My-Boots was still eating. He had asked for another loaf. He finished what
+there was of the cheese; and, as there was some cream left, he had the
+salad-bowl passed to him, into which he sliced some large pieces of bread as
+though for a soup.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;The gentleman is really remarkable,&rdquo; said Monsieur Madinier, again
+giving way to his admiration.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Then the men rose to get their pipes. They stood for a moment behind My-Boots,
+patting him on the back, and asking him if he was feeling better.
+Bibi-the-Smoker lifted him up in his chair; but <i>tonnerre de Dieu!</i> the
+animal had doubled in weight. Coupeau joked that My-Boots was only getting
+started, that now he was going to settle down and really eat for the rest of
+the night. The waiters were startled and quickly vanished from sight.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Boche, who had gone downstairs for a moment, came up to report the
+proprietor&rsquo;s reaction. He was standing behind his bar, pale as death. His
+wife, dreadfully upset, was wondering if any bakeries were still open. Even the
+cat seemed deep in despair. This was as funny as could be, really worth the
+price of the dinner. It was impossible to have a proper dinner party without
+My-Boots, the bottomless pit. The other men eyed him with a brooding jealousy
+as they puffed on their pipes. Indeed, to be able to eat so much, you had to be
+very solidly built!
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;I wouldn&rsquo;t care to be obliged to support you,&rdquo; said Madame
+Gaudron. &ldquo;Ah, no; you may take my word for that!&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;I say, little mother, no jokes,&rdquo; replied My-Boots, casting a side
+glance at his neighbor&rsquo;s rotund figure. &ldquo;You&rsquo;ve swallowed
+more than I have.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The others applauded, shouting &ldquo;Bravo!&rdquo;&mdash;it was well answered.
+It was now pitch dark outside, three gas-jets were flaring in the room,
+diffusing dim rays in the midst of the tobacco-smoke. The waiters, after
+serving the coffee and the brandy, had removed the last piles of dirty plates.
+Down below, beneath the three acacias, dancing had commenced, a cornet-a-piston
+and two fiddles playing very loud, and mingling in the warm night air with the
+rather hoarse laughter of women.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;We must have a punch!&rdquo; cried My-Boots; &ldquo;two quarts of
+brandy, lots of lemon, and a little sugar.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+But Coupeau, seeing the anxious look on Gervaise&rsquo;s face in front of him,
+got up from the table, declaring that there should be no more drink. They had
+emptied twenty-five quarts, a quart and a half to each person, counting the
+children as grown-up people; that was already too much. They had had a feed
+together in good fellowship, and without ceremony, because they esteemed each
+other, and wished to celebrate the event of the day amongst themselves.
+Everything had been very nice; they had had lots of fun. It wouldn&rsquo;t do
+to get cockeyed drunk now, out of respect to the ladies. That was all he had to
+say, they had come together to toast a marriage and they had done so.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Coupeau delivered the little speech with convincing sincerity and punctuated
+each phrase by placing his hand on his heart. He won whole-hearted approval
+from Lorilleux and Monsieur Madinier; but the other four men, especially
+My-Boots, were already well lit and sneered. They declared in hoarse drunken
+voices that they were thirsty and wanted drinks.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Those who&rsquo;re thirsty are thirsty, and those who aren&rsquo;t
+thirsty aren&rsquo;t thirsty,&rdquo; remarked My-Boots. &ldquo;Therefore,
+we&rsquo;ll order the punch. No one need take offence. The aristocrats can
+drink sugar-and-water.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+And as the zinc-worker commenced another sermon, the other, who had risen on
+his legs, gave himself a slap, exclaiming:
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Come, let&rsquo;s have no more of that, my boy! Waiter, two quarts of
+your aged stuff!&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+So Coupeau said very well, only they would settle for the dinner at once. It
+would prevent any disputes. The well-behaved people did not want to pay for the
+drunkards; and it just happened that My-Boots, after searching in his pockets
+for a long time, could only produce three francs and seven sous. Well, why had
+they made him wait all that time on the Route de Saint-Denis? He could not let
+himself be drowned and so he had broken into his five-franc piece. It was the
+fault of the others, that was all! He ended by giving the three francs, keeping
+the seven sous for the morrow&rsquo;s tobacco. Coupeau, who was furious, would
+have knocked him over had not Gervaise, greatly frightened, pulled him by his
+coat, and begged him to keep cool. He decided to borrow the two francs of
+Lorilleux, who after refusing them, lent them on the sly, for his wife would
+never have consented to his doing so.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Monsieur Madinier went round with a plate. The spinster and the ladies who were
+alone&mdash;Madame Lerat, Madame Fauconnier, Mademoiselle
+Remanjou&mdash;discreetly placed their five-franc pieces in it first. Then the
+gentlemen went to the other end of the room, and made up the accounts. They
+were fifteen; it amounted therefore to seventy-five francs. When the
+seventy-five francs were in the plate, each man added five sous for the
+waiters. It took a quarter of an hour of laborious calculations before
+everything was settled to the general satisfaction.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+But when Monsieur Madinier, who wished to deal direct with the landlord, had
+got him to step up, the whole party became lost in astonishment on hearing him
+say with a smile that there was still something due to him. There were some
+extras; and, as the word &ldquo;extras&rdquo; was greeted with angry
+exclamations, he entered into details:&mdash;Twenty-five quarts of wine,
+instead of twenty, the number agreed upon beforehand; the frosted eggs, which
+he had added, as the dessert was rather scanty; finally, a quarter of a bottle
+of rum, served with the coffee, in case any one preferred rum. Then a
+formidable quarrel ensued. Coupeau, who was appealed to, protested against
+everything; he had never mentioned twenty quarts; as for the frosted eggs, they
+were included in the dessert, so much the worse for the landlord if he choose
+to add them without being asked to do so. There remained the rum, a mere
+nothing, just a mode of increasing the bill by putting on the table spirits
+that no one thought anything about.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;It was on the tray with the coffee,&rdquo; he cried; &ldquo;therefore it
+goes with the coffee. Go to the deuce! Take your money, and never again will we
+set foot in your den!&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;It&rsquo;s six francs more,&rdquo; repeated the landlord. &ldquo;Pay me
+my six francs; and with all that I haven&rsquo;t counted the four loaves that
+gentleman ate!&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The whole party, pressing forward, surrounded him with furious gestures and a
+yelping of voices choking with rage. The women especially threw aside all
+reserve, and refused to add another centime. This was some wedding dinner!
+Mademoiselle Remanjou vowed she would never again attend such a party. Madame
+Fauconnier declared she had had a very disappointing meal; at home she could
+have had a finger-licking dish for only two francs. Madame Gaudron bitterly
+complained that she had been shoved down to the worst end of the table next to
+My-Boots who had ignored her. These parties never turned out well, one should
+be more careful whom one invites. Gervaise had taken refuge with mother Coupeau
+near one of the windows, feeling shamed as she realized that all these
+recriminations would fall back upon her.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Monsieur Madinier ended by going down with the landlord. One could hear them
+arguing below. Then, when half an hour had gone by the cardboard box
+manufacturer returned; he had settled the matter by giving three francs. But
+the party continued annoyed and exasperated, constantly returning to the
+question of the extras. And the uproar increased from an act of vigor on Madame
+Boche&rsquo;s part. She had kept an eye on Boche, and at length detected him
+squeezing Madame Lerat round the waist in a corner. Then, with all her
+strength, she flung a water pitcher, which smashed against the wall.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;One can easily see that your husband&rsquo;s a tailor, madame,&rdquo;
+said the tall widow, with a curl of the lip, full of a double meaning.
+&ldquo;He&rsquo;s a petticoat specialist, even though I gave him some pretty
+hard kicks under the table.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The harmony of the evening was altogether upset. Everyone became more and more
+ill-tempered. Monsieur Madinier suggested some singing, but Bibi-the-Smoker,
+who had a fine voice, had disappeared some time before; and Mademoiselle
+Remanjou, who was leaning out of the window, caught sight of him under the
+acacias, swinging round a big girl who was bare-headed. The cornet-a-piston and
+two fiddles were playing &ldquo;<i>Le Marchand de Moutarde</i>.&rdquo; The
+party now began to break up. My-Boots and the Gaudrons went down to the dance
+with Boche sneaking along after them. The twirling couples could be seen from
+the windows. The night was still as though exhausted from the heat of the day.
+A serious conversation started between Lorilleux and Monsieur Madinier. The
+ladies examined their dresses carefully to see if they had been stained.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Madame Lerat&rsquo;s fringe looked as though it had been dipped in the coffee.
+Madame Fauconnier&rsquo;s chintz dress was spotted with gravy. Mother
+Coupeau&rsquo;s green shawl, fallen from off a chair, was discovered in a
+corner, rolled up and trodden upon. But it was Madame Lorilleux especially who
+became more ill-tempered still. She had a stain on the back of her dress; it
+was useless for the others to declare that she had not&mdash;she felt it. And,
+by twisting herself about in front of a looking-glass, she ended by catching a
+glimpse of it.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;What did I say?&rdquo; cried she. &ldquo;It&rsquo;s gravy from the fowl.
+The waiter shall pay for the dress. I will bring an action against him. Ah!
+this is a fit ending to such a day. I should have done better to have stayed in
+bed. To begin with, I&rsquo;m off. I&rsquo;ve had enough of their wretched
+wedding!&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+And she left the room in a rage, causing the staircase to shake beneath her
+heavy footsteps. Lorilleux ran after her. But all she would consent to was that
+she would wait five minutes on the pavement outside, if he wanted them to go
+off together. She ought to have left directly after the storm, as she wished to
+do. She would make Coupeau sorry for that day. Coupeau was dismayed when he
+heard how angry she was. Gervaise agreed to leave at once to avoid embarrassing
+him any more.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+There was a flurry of quick good-night kisses. Monsieur Madinier was to escort
+mother Coupeau home. Madame Boche would take Claude and Etienne with her for
+the bridal night. The children were sound asleep on chairs, stuffed full from
+the dinner. Just as the bridal couple and Lorilleux were about to go out the
+door, a quarrel broke out near the dance floor between their group and another
+group. Boche and My-Boots were kissing a lady and wouldn&rsquo;t give her up to
+her escorts, two soldiers.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+It was scarcely eleven o&rsquo;clock. On the Boulevard de la Chapelle, and in
+the entire neighborhood of the Goutte-d&rsquo;Or, the fortnight&rsquo;s pay,
+which fell due on that Saturday, produced an enormous drunken uproar. Madame
+Lorilleux was waiting beneath a gas-lamp about twenty paces from the Silver
+Windmill. She took her husband&rsquo;s arm, and walked on in front without
+looking round, at such a rate, that Gervaise and Coupeau got quite out of
+breath in trying to keep up with them. Now and again they stepped off the
+pavement to leave room for some drunkard who had fallen there. Lorilleux looked
+back, endeavoring to make things pleasant.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;We will see you as far as your door,&rdquo; said he.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+But Madame Lorilleux, raising her voice, thought it a funny thing to spend
+one&rsquo;s wedding night in such a filthy hole as the Hotel Boncoeur. Ought
+they not to have put their marriage off, and have saved a few sous to buy some
+furniture, so as to have had a home of their own on the first night? Ah! they
+would be comfortable, right up under the roof, packed into a little closet, at
+ten francs a month, where there was not even the slightest air.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;I&rsquo;ve given notice, we&rsquo;re not going to use the room up at the
+top of the house,&rdquo; timidly interposed Coupeau. &ldquo;We are keeping
+Gervaise&rsquo;s room, which is larger.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Madame Lorilleux forgot herself. She turned abruptly round.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;That&rsquo;s worse than all!&rdquo; cried she. &ldquo;You&rsquo;re going
+to sleep in Clump-clump&rsquo;s room.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Gervaise became quite pale. This nickname, which she received full in the face
+for the first time, fell on her like a blow. And she fully understood it, too,
+her sister-in-law&rsquo;s exclamation: the Clump-clump&rsquo;s room was the
+room in which she had lived for a month with Lantier, where the shreds of her
+past life still hung about. Coupeau did not understand this, but merely felt
+hurt at the harsh nickname.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;You do wrong to christen others,&rdquo; he replied angrily. &ldquo;You
+don&rsquo;t know perhaps, that in the neighborhood they call you
+Cow&rsquo;s-Tail, because of your hair. There, that doesn&rsquo;t please you,
+does it? Why should we not keep the room on the first floor? To-night the
+children won&rsquo;t sleep there, and we shall be very comfortable.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Madame Lorilleux added nothing further, but retired into her dignity, horribly
+annoyed at being called Cow&rsquo;s-Tail. To cheer up Gervaise, Coupeau
+squeezed her arm softly. He even succeeded in making her smile by whispering
+into her ear that they were setting up housekeeping with the grand sum of seven
+sous, three big two-sou pieces and one little sou, which he jingled in his
+pocket.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+When they reached the Hotel Boncoeur, the two couples wished each other
+good-night, with an angry air; and as Coupeau pushed the two women into each
+other&rsquo;s arms, calling them a couple of ninnies, a drunken fellow, who
+seemed to want to go to the right, suddenly slipped to the left and came
+tumbling between them.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Why, it&rsquo;s old Bazouge!&rdquo; said Lorilleux. &ldquo;He&rsquo;s
+had his fill to-day.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Gervaise, frightened, squeezed up against the door of the hotel. Old Bazouge,
+an undertaker&rsquo;s helper of some fifty years of age, had his black trousers
+all stained with mud, his black cape hooked on to his shoulder, and his black
+feather hat knocked in by some tumble he had taken.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Don&rsquo;t be afraid, he&rsquo;s harmless,&rdquo; continued Lorilleux.
+&ldquo;He&rsquo;s a neighbor of ours&mdash;the third room in the passage before
+us. He would find himself in a nice mess if his people were to see him like
+this!&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Old Bazouge, however, felt offended at the young woman&rsquo;s evident terror.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Well, what!&rdquo; hiccoughed he, &ldquo;we ain&rsquo;t going to eat any
+one. I&rsquo;m as good as another any day, my little woman. No doubt I&rsquo;ve
+had a drop! When work&rsquo;s plentiful one must grease the wheels. It&rsquo;s
+not you, nor your friends, who would have carried down the stiff &rsquo;un of
+forty-seven stone whom I and a pal brought from the fourth floor to the
+pavement, and without smashing him too. I like jolly people.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+But Gervaise retreated further into the doorway, seized with a longing to cry,
+which spoilt her day of sober-minded joy. She no longer thought of kissing her
+sister-in-law, she implored Coupeau to get rid of the drunkard. Then Bazouge,
+as he stumbled about, made a gesture of philosophical disdain.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;That won&rsquo;t prevent you passing though our hands, my little woman.
+You&rsquo;ll perhaps be glad to do so, one of these days. Yes, I know some
+women who&rsquo;d be much obliged if we did carry them off.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+And, as Lorilleux led him away, he turned around, and stuttered out a last
+sentence, between two hiccoughs.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;When you&rsquo;re dead&mdash;listen to this&mdash;when you&rsquo;re
+dead, it&rsquo;s for a long, long time.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+</div><!--end chapter-->
+
+<div class="chapter">
+
+<h2><a name="link2HCH0004" id="link2HCH0004"></a>
+CHAPTER IV.</h2>
+
+<p>
+Then followed four years of hard work. In the neighborhood, Gervaise and
+Coupeau had the reputation of being a happy couple, living in retirement
+without quarrels, and taking a short walk regularly every Sunday in the
+direction of St. Ouen. The wife worked twelve hours a day at Madame
+Fauconnier&rsquo;s, and still found means to keep their lodging as clean and
+bright as a new coined sou and to prepare the meals for all her little family,
+morning and evening. The husband never got drunk, brought his wages home every
+fortnight, and smoked a pipe at his window in the evening, to get a breath of
+fresh air before going to bed. They were frequently alluded to on account of
+their nice, pleasant ways; and as between them they earned close upon nine
+francs a day, it was reckoned that they were able to put by a good deal of
+money.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+However, during their first months together they had to struggle hard to get
+by. Their wedding had left them owing two hundred francs. Also, they detested
+the Hotel Boncoeur as they didn&rsquo;t like the other occupants. Their dream
+was to have a home of their own with their own furniture. They were always
+figuring how much they would need and decided three hundred and fifty francs at
+least, in order to be able to buy little items that came up later.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+They were in despair at ever being able to collect such a large sum when a
+lucky chance came their way. An old gentleman at Plassans offered to take the
+older boy, Claude, and send him to an academy down there. The old man, who
+loved art, had previously been much impressed by Claude&rsquo;s sketches.
+Claude had already begun to cost them quite a bit. Now, with only Etienne to
+support, they were able to accumulate the money in a little over seven months.
+One day they were finally able to buy their own furniture from a second-hand
+dealer on Rue Belhomme. Their hearts filled with happiness, they celebrated by
+walking home along the exterior Boulevards.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+They had purchased a bed, a night table, a chest of drawers with a marble top,
+a wardrobe, a round table covered with oilcloth, and six chairs. All were of
+dark mahogany. They also bought blankets, linen, and kitchen utensils that were
+scarcely used. It meant settling down and giving themselves a status in life as
+property owners, as persons to be respected.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+For two months past they had been busy seeking some new apartments. At first
+they wanted above everything to hire these in the big house of the Rue de la
+Goutte-d&rsquo;Or. But there was not a single room to let there; so that they
+had to relinquish their old dream. To tell the truth, Gervaise was rather glad
+in her heart; the neighborhood of the Lorilleux almost door to door, frightened
+her immensely. Then, they looked about elsewhere. Coupeau, very properly did
+not wish to be far from Madame Fauconnier&rsquo;s so that Gervaise could easily
+run home at any hour of the day. And at length they met with exactly what
+suited them, a large room with a small closet and a kitchen, in the Rue Neuve
+de la Goutte-d&rsquo;Or, almost opposite the laundress&rsquo;s. This was in a
+small two-story building with a very steep staircase. There were two apartments
+on the second floor, one to the left, the other to the right, The ground floor
+was occupied by a man who rented out carriages, which filled the sheds in the
+large stable yard by the street.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Gervaise was delighted with this as it made her feel she was back in a country
+town. With no close neighbors there would be no gossip to worry about in this
+little corner. It reminded her of a small lane outside the ramparts of
+Plassans. She could even see her own window while ironing at the laundry by
+just tilting her head to the side.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+They took possession of their new abode at the April quarter. Gervaise was then
+eight months advanced. But she showed great courage, saying with a laugh that
+the baby helped her as she worked; she felt its influence growing within her
+and giving her strength. Ah, well! She just laughed at Coupeau whenever he
+wanted her to lie down and rest herself! She would take to her bed when the
+labor pains came. That would be quite soon enough as with another mouth to
+feed, they would have to work harder than ever.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+She made their new place bright and shiny before helping her husband install
+the furniture. She loved the furniture, polishing it and becoming almost
+heart-broken at the slightest scratch. Any time she knocked into the furniture
+while cleaning she would stop with a sudden shock as though she had hurt
+herself.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The chest of drawers was especially dear to her. She thought it handsome,
+sturdy and most respectable-looking. The dream that she hadn&rsquo;t dared to
+mention was to get a clock and put it right in the middle of the marble top. It
+would make a splendid effect. She probably would have bought one right away
+except for the expected baby.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The couple were thoroughly enchanted with their new home. Etienne&rsquo;s bed
+occupied the small closet, where there was still room to put another
+child&rsquo;s crib. The kitchen was a very tiny affair and as dark as night,
+but by leaving the door wide open, one could just manage to see; besides,
+Gervaise had not to cook meals for thirty people, all she wanted was room to
+make her soup. As for the large room, it was their pride. The first thing in
+the morning, they drew the curtains of the alcove, white calico curtains; and
+the room was thus transformed into a dining-room, with the table in the centre,
+and the wardrobe and chest of drawers facing each other.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+They stopped up the chimney since it burned as much as fifteen sous of coal a
+day. A small cast-iron stove on the marble hearth gave them enough warmth on
+cold days for only seven sous. Coupeau had also done his best to decorate the
+walls. There was a large engraving showing a marshal of France on horseback
+with a baton in his hand. Family photographs were arranged in two rows on top
+of the chest of drawers on each side of an old holy-water basin in which they
+kept matches. Busts of Pascal and Beranger were on top of the wardrobe. It was
+really a handsome room.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Guess how much we pay here?&rdquo; Gervaise would ask of every visitor
+she had.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+And whenever they guessed too high a sum, she triumphed and delighted at being
+so well suited for such a little money, cried:
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;One hundred and fifty francs, not a sou more! Isn&rsquo;t it almost like
+having it for nothing!&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The street, Rue Neuve de la Goutte d&rsquo;Or, played an important part in
+their contentment. Gervaise&rsquo;s whole life was there, as she traveled back
+and forth endlessly between her home and Madame Fauconnier&rsquo;s laundry.
+Coupeau now went down every evening and stood on the doorstep to smoke his
+pipe. The poorly-paved street rose steeply and had no sidewalks. Toward Rue de
+la Goutte d&rsquo;Or there were some gloomy shops with dirty windows. There
+were shoemakers, coopers, a run-down grocery, and a bankrupt cafe whose closed
+shutters were covered with posters. In the opposite direction, toward Paris,
+four-story buildings blocked the sky. Their ground floor shops were all
+occupied by laundries with one exception&mdash;a green-painted store front
+typical of a small-town hair-dresser. Its shop windows were full of variously
+colored flasks. It lighted up this drab corner with the gay brightness of its
+copper bowls which were always shining.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The most pleasant part of the street was in between, where the buildings were
+fewer and lower, letting in more sunlight. The carriage sheds, the plant which
+manufactured soda water, and the wash-house opposite made a wide expanse of
+quietness. The muffled voices of the washerwomen and the rhythmic puffing of
+the steam engine seemed to deepen the almost religious silence. Open fields and
+narrow lanes vanishing between dark walls gave it the air of a country village.
+Coupeau, always amused by the infrequent pedestrians having to jump over the
+continuous streams of soapy water, said it reminded him of a country town where
+his uncle had taken him when he was five years old. Gervaise&rsquo;s greatest
+joy was a tree growing in the courtyard to the left of their window, an acacia
+that stretched out a single branch and yet, with its meager foliage, lent charm
+to the entire street.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+It was on the last day of April that Gervaise was confined. The pains came on
+in the afternoon, towards four o&rsquo;clock, as she was ironing a pair of
+curtains at Madame Fauconnier&rsquo;s. She would not go home at once, but
+remained there wriggling about on a chair, and continuing her ironing every
+time the pain allowed her to do so; the curtains were wanted quickly and she
+obstinately made a point of finishing them. Besides, perhaps after all it was
+only a colic; it would never do to be frightened by a bit of a stomach-ache.
+But as she was talking of starting on some shirts, she became quite pale. She
+was obliged to leave the work-shop, and cross the street doubled in two,
+holding on to the walls. One of the workwomen offered to accompany her; she
+declined, but begged her to go instead for the midwife, close by, in the Rue de
+la Charbonniere. This was only a false alarm; there was no need to make a fuss.
+She would be like that no doubt all through the night. It was not going to
+prevent her getting Coupeau&rsquo;s dinner ready as soon as she was indoors;
+then she might perhaps lie down on the bed a little, but without undressing. On
+the staircase she was seized with such a violent pain, that she was obliged to
+sit down on one of the stairs; and she pressed her two fists against her mouth
+to prevent herself from crying out, for she would have been ashamed to have
+been found there by any man, had one come up. The pain passed away; she was
+able to open her door, feeling relieved, and thinking that she had decidedly
+been mistaken. That evening she was going to make a stew with some neck chops.
+All went well while she peeled the potatoes. The chops were cooking in a
+saucepan when the pains returned. She mixed the gravy as she stamped about in
+front of the stove, almost blinded with her tears. If she was going to give
+birth, that was no reason why Coupeau should be kept without his dinner. At
+length the stew began to simmer on a fire covered with cinders. She went into
+the other room, and thought she would have time to lay the cloth at one end of
+the table. But she was obliged to put down the bottle of wine very quickly; she
+no longer had strength to reach the bed; she fell prostrate, and she had more
+pains on a mat on the floor. When the midwife arrived, a quarter of an hour
+later, she found mother and baby lying there on the floor.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The zinc-worker was still employed at the hospital. Gervaise would not have him
+disturbed. When he came home at seven o&rsquo;clock, he found her in bed, well
+covered up, looking very pale on the pillow, and the child crying, swathed in a
+shawl at its mother&rsquo;s feet.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Ah, my poor wife!&rdquo; said Coupeau, kissing Gervaise. &ldquo;And I
+was joking only an hour ago, whilst you were crying with pain! I say, you
+don&rsquo;t make much fuss about it&mdash;the time to sneeze and it&rsquo;s all
+over.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+She smiled faintly; then she murmured: &ldquo;It&rsquo;s a girl.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Right!&rdquo; the zinc-worker replied, joking so as to enliven her,
+&ldquo;I ordered a girl! Well, now I&rsquo;ve got what I wanted! You do
+everything I wish!&rdquo; And, taking the child up in his arms, he continued:
+&ldquo;Let&rsquo;s have a look at you, miss! You&rsquo;ve got a very black
+little mug. It&rsquo;ll get whiter, never fear. You must be good, never run
+about the streets, and grow up sensible like your papa and mamma.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Gervaise looked at her daughter very seriously, with wide open eyes, slowly
+overshadowed with sadness, for she would rather have had a boy. Boys can talk
+care of themselves and don&rsquo;t have to run such risks on the streets of
+Paris as girls do. The midwife took the infant from Coupeau. She forbade
+Gervaise to do any talking; it was bad enough there was so much noise around
+her.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Then the zinc-worker said that he must tell the news to mother Coupeau and the
+Lorilleuxs, but he was dying with hunger, he must first of all have his dinner.
+It was a great worry to the invalid to see him have to wait on himself, run to
+the kitchen for the stew, eat it out of a soup plate, and not be able to find
+the bread. In spite of being told not to do so, she bewailed her condition, and
+fidgeted about in her bed. It was stupid of her not to have managed to set the
+cloth, the pains had laid her on her back like a blow from a bludgeon. Her poor
+old man would not think it kind of her to be nursing herself up there whilst he
+was dining so badly. At least were the potatoes cooked enough? She no longer
+remembered whether she had put salt in them.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Keep quiet!&rdquo; cried the midwife.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Ah! if only you could stop her from wearing herself out!&rdquo; said
+Coupeau with his mouth full. &ldquo;If you were not here, I&rsquo;d bet
+she&rsquo;d get up to cut my bread. Keep on your back, you big goose! You
+mustn&rsquo;t move about, otherwise it&rsquo;ll be a fortnight before
+you&rsquo;ll be able to stand on your legs. Your stew&rsquo;s very good. Madame
+will eat some with me, won&rsquo;t you, Madame?&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The midwife declined; but she was willing to accept a glass of wine, because it
+had upset her, said she to find the poor woman with the baby on the mat.
+Coupeau at length went off to tell the news to his relations. Half an hour
+later he returned with all of them, mother Coupeau, the Lorilleuxs, and Madame
+Lerat, whom he had met at the latter&rsquo;s.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;I&rsquo;ve brought you the whole gang!&rdquo; cried Coupeau. &ldquo;It
+can&rsquo;t be helped! They wanted to see you. Don&rsquo;t open your mouth,
+it&rsquo;s forbidden. They&rsquo;ll stop here and look at you without ceremony,
+you know. As for me, I&rsquo;m going to make them some coffee, and of the right
+sort!&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+He disappeared into the kitchen. Mother Coupeau after kissing Gervaise, became
+amazed at the child&rsquo;s size. The two other women also kissed the invalid
+on her cheeks. And all three, standing before the bed, commented with divers
+exclamations on the details of the confinement&mdash;a most remarkable
+confinement, just like having a tooth pulled, nothing more.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Madame Lerat examined the baby all over, declared she was well formed, even
+added that she could grow up into an attractive woman. Noticing that the head
+had been squeezed into a point on top, she kneaded it gently despite the
+infant&rsquo;s cries, trying to round it a bit. Madame Lorilleux grabbed the
+baby from her; that could be enough to give the poor little thing all sorts of
+vicious tendencies, meddling with it like that while her skull was still soft.
+She then tried to figure out who the baby resembled. This almost led to a
+quarrel. Lorilleux, peering over the women&rsquo;s shoulders, insisted that the
+little girl didn&rsquo;t look the least bit like Coupeau. Well, maybe a little
+around the nose, nothing more. She was her mother all over again, with big eyes
+like hers. Certainly there were no eyes like that in the Coupeau family.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Coupeau, however, had failed to reappear. One could hear him in the kitchen
+struggling with the grate and the coffee-pot. Gervaise was worrying herself
+frightfully; it was not the proper thing for a man to make coffee; and she
+called and told him what to do, without listening to the midwife&rsquo;s
+energetic &ldquo;hush!&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Here we are!&rdquo; said Coupeau, entering with the coffee-pot in his
+hand. &ldquo;Didn&rsquo;t I just have a bother with it! It all went wrong on
+purpose! Now we&rsquo;ll drink out of glasses, won&rsquo;t we? Because you
+know, the cups are still at the shop.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+They seated themselves around the table, and the zinc-worker insisted on
+pouring out the coffee himself. It smelt very strong, it was none of that weak
+stuff. When the midwife had sipped hers up, she went off; everything was going
+on nicely, she was not required. If the young woman did not pass a good night
+they were to send for her on the morrow. She was scarcely down the staircase,
+when Madame Lorilleux called her a glutton and a good-for-nothing. She put four
+lumps of sugar in her coffee, and charged fifteen francs for leaving you with
+your baby all by yourself. But Coupeau took her part; he would willingly fork
+out the fifteen francs. After all those sort of women spent their youth in
+studying, they were right to charge a good price.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+It was then Lorilleux who got into a quarrel with Madame Lerat by maintaining
+that, in order to have a son, the head of the bed should be turned to the
+north. She shrugged her shoulders at such nonsense, offering another formula
+which consisted in hiding under the mattress, without letting your wife know, a
+handful of fresh nettles picked in bright sunlight.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The table had been pushed over close to the bed. Until ten o&rsquo;clock
+Gervaise lay there, smiling although she was only half awake. She was becoming
+more and more weary, her head turned sideways on the pillow. She no longer had
+the energy to venture a remark or a gesture. It seemed to her that she was
+dead, a very sweet death, from the depths of which she was happy to observe the
+others still in the land of the living. The thin cries of her baby daughter
+rose above the hum of heavy voices that were discussing a recent murder on Rue
+du Bon Puits, at the other end of La Chapelle.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Then, as the visitors were thinking of leaving, they spoke of the christening.
+The Lorilleux had promised to be godfather and godmother; they looked very glum
+over the matter. However, if they had not been asked to stand they would have
+felt rather peculiar. Coupeau did not see any need for christening the little
+one; it certainly would not procure her an income of ten thousand francs, and
+besides she might catch a cold from it. The less one had to do with priests the
+better. But mother Coupeau called him a heathen. The Lorilleux, without going
+and eating consecrated bread in church, plumed themselves on their religious
+sentiments.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;It shall be next Sunday, if you like,&rdquo; said the chainmaker.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+And Gervaise having consented by a nod, everyone kissed her and told her to
+take good care of herself. They also wished the baby good-bye. Each one went
+and leant over the little trembling body with smiles and loving words as though
+she were able to understand. They called her Nana, the pet name for Anna, which
+was her godmother&rsquo;s name.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Good night, Nana. Come be a good girl, Nana.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+When they had at length gone off, Coupeau drew his chair close up to the bed
+and finished his pipe, holding Gervaise&rsquo;s hand in his. He smoked slowly,
+deeply affected and uttering sentences between the puffs.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Well, old woman, they&rsquo;ve made your head ache, haven&rsquo;t they?
+You see I couldn&rsquo;t prevent them coming. After all, it shows their
+friendship. But we&rsquo;re better alone, aren&rsquo;t we? I wanted to be alone
+like this with you. It has seemed such a long evening to me! Poor little thing,
+she&rsquo;s had a lot to go through! Those shrimps, when they come out into the
+world, have no idea of the pain they cause. It must really almost be like being
+split in two. Where does it hurt the most, that I may kiss it and make it
+well?&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+He had carefully slid one of his big hands under her back, and now he drew her
+toward him, bending over to kiss her stomach through the covers, touched by a
+rough man&rsquo;s compassion for the suffering of a woman in childbirth. He
+inquired if he was hurting her. Gervaise felt very happy, and answered him that
+it didn&rsquo;t hurt any more at all. She was only worried about getting up as
+soon as possible, because there was no time to lie about now. He assured her
+that he&rsquo;d be responsible for earning the money for the new little one. He
+would be a real bum if he abandoned her and the little rascal. The way he
+figured it, what really counted was bringing her up properly. Wasn&rsquo;t that
+so?
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Coupeau did not sleep much that night. He covered up the fire in the stove.
+Every hour he had to get up to give the baby spoonfuls of lukewarm sugar and
+water. That did not prevent his going off to his work in the morning as usual.
+He even took advantage of his lunch-hour to make a declaration of the birth at
+the mayor&rsquo;s. During this time Madame Boche, who had been informed of the
+event, had hastened to go and pass the day with Gervaise. But the latter, after
+ten hours of sleep, bewailed her position, saying that she already felt pains
+all over her through having been so long in bed. She would become quite ill if
+they did not let her get up. In the evening, when Coupeau returned home, she
+told him all her worries; no doubt she had confidence in Madame Boche, only it
+put her beside herself to see a stranger installed in her room, opening the
+drawers, and touching her things.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+On the morrow the concierge, on returning from some errand, found her up,
+dressed, sweeping and getting her husband&rsquo;s dinner ready; and it was
+impossible to persuade her to go to bed again. They were trying to make a fool
+of her perhaps! It was all very well for ladies to pretend to be unable to
+move. When one was not rich one had no time for that sort of thing. Three days
+after her confinement she was ironing petticoats at Madame Fauconnier&rsquo;s,
+banging her irons and all in a perspiration from the great heat of the stove.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+On the Saturday evening, Madame Lorilleux brought her presents for her
+godchild&mdash;a cup that cost thirty-five sous, and a christening dress,
+plaited and trimmed with some cheap lace, which she had got for six francs,
+because it was slightly soiled. On the morrow, Lorilleux, as godfather, gave
+the mother six pounds of sugar. They certainly did things properly! At the
+baptism supper which took place at the Coupeaus that evening, they did not come
+empty-handed. Lorilleux carried a bottle of fine wine under each arm and his
+wife brought a large custard pie from a famous pastry shop on Chaussee
+Clignancourt. But the Lorilleuxs made sure that the entire neighborhood knew
+they had spent twenty francs. As soon as Gervaise learned of their gossiping,
+furious, she stopped giving them credit for generosity.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+It was at the christening feast that the Coupeaus ended by becoming intimately
+acquainted with their neighbors on the opposite side of the landing. The other
+lodging in the little house was occupied by two persons, mother and son, the
+Goujets as they were called. Until then the two families had merely nodded to
+each other on the stairs and in the street, nothing more; the Coupeaus thought
+their neighbors seemed rather bearish. Then the mother, having carried up a
+pail of water for Gervaise on the morrow of her confinement, the latter had
+thought it the proper thing to invite them to the feast, more especially as she
+considered them very respectable people. And naturally, they there became well
+acquainted with each other.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The Goujets came from the Departement du Nord. The mother mended lace; the son,
+a blacksmith, worked at an iron bolt factory. They had lived in their lodging
+for five years. Behind the quiet peacefulness of their life, a long standing
+sorrow was hidden. Goujet the father, one day when furiously drunk at Lille,
+had beaten a comrade to death with an iron bar and had afterwards strangled
+himself in prison with his handkerchief. The widow and child, who had come to
+Paris after their misfortune, always felt the tragedy hanging over their heads,
+and atoned for it by a strict honesty and an unvarying gentleness and courage.
+They had a certain amount of pride in their attitude and regarded themselves as
+better than other people.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Madame Goujet, dressed in black as usual, her forehead framed in a nun&rsquo;s
+hood, had a pale, calm, matronly face, as if the whiteness of the lace and the
+delicate work of her fingers had cast a glow of serenity over her. Goujet was
+twenty-three years old, huge, magnificently built, with deep blue eyes and rosy
+cheeks, and the strength of Hercules. His comrades at the shop called him
+&ldquo;Golden Mouth&rdquo; because of his handsome blonde beard.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Gervaise at once felt a great friendship for these people. When she entered
+their home for the first time, she was amazed at the cleanliness of the
+lodging. There was no denying it, one might blow about the place without
+raising a grain of dust; and the tiled floor shone like a mirror. Madame Goujet
+made her enter her son&rsquo;s room, just to see it. It was pretty and white
+like the room of a young girl; an iron bedstead with muslin curtains, a table,
+a washstand, and a narrow bookcase hanging against the wall. Then there were
+pictures all over the place, figures cut out, colored engravings nailed up with
+four tacks, and portraits of all kinds of persons taken from the illustrated
+papers.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Madame Goujet said with a smile that her son was a big baby. He found that
+reading in the evening put him to sleep, so he amused himself looking at
+pictures. Gervaise spent an hour with her neighbor without noticing the passing
+of time. Madame Goujet had gone to sit by the window and work on her lace.
+Gervaise was fascinated by the hundreds of pins that held the lace, and she
+felt happy to be there, breathing in the good clean atmosphere of this home
+where such a delicate task enforced a sort of meditative silence.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The Goujets were worth visiting. They worked long hours, and placed more than a
+quarter of their fortnight&rsquo;s earnings in the savings-bank. In the
+neighborhood everyone nodded to them, everyone talked of their savings. Goujet
+never had a hole in his clothes, always went out in a clean short blue blouse,
+without a stain. He was very polite, and even a trifle timid, in spite of his
+broad shoulders. The washerwomen at the end of the street laughed to see him
+hold down his head when he passed them. He did not like their oaths, and
+thought it disgusting that women should be constantly uttering foul words. One
+day, however, he came home tipsy. Then Madame Goujet, for sole reproach, held
+his father&rsquo;s portrait before him, a daub of a painting hidden away at the
+bottom of a drawer; and, ever since that lesson, Goujet never drank more than
+was good for him, without however, any hatred of wine, for wine is necessary to
+the workman. On Sundays he walked out with his mother, who took hold of his
+arm. He would generally conduct her to Vincennes; at other times they would go
+to the theatre. His mother remained his passion. He still spoke to her as
+though he were a little child. Square-headed, his skin toughened by the
+wielding of the heavy hammer, he somewhat resembled the larger animals: dull of
+intellect, though good-natured all the same.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+In the early days of their acquaintance, Gervaise embarrassed him immensely.
+Then in a few weeks he became accustomed to her. He watched for her that he
+might carry up her parcels, treated her as a sister, with an abrupt
+familiarity, and cut out pictures for her. One morning, however, having opened
+her door without knocking, he beheld her half undressed, washing her neck; and,
+for a week, he did not dare to look her in the face, so much so that he ended
+by making her blush herself.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Young Cassis, with the casual wit of a born Parisian, called Golden Mouth a
+dolt. It was all right not to get drunk all the time or chase women, but still,
+a man must be a man, or else he might as well wear skirts. Coupeau teased him
+in front of Gervaise, accusing him of making up to all the women in the
+neighborhood. Goujet vigorously defended himself against the charge.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+But this didn&rsquo;t prevent the two workingmen from becoming best of friends.
+They went off to work together in the mornings and sometimes had a glass of
+beer together on the way home.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+It eventually came about that Golden Mouth could render a service to Young
+Cassis, one of those favors that is remembered forever.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+It was the second of December. The zinc-worker decided, just for the fun of it,
+to go into the city and watch the rioting. He didn&rsquo;t really care about
+the Republic, or Napoleon or anything like that, but he liked the smell of
+gunpowder and the sound of the rifles firing. He would have been arrested as a
+rioter if the blacksmith hadn&rsquo;t turned up at the barricade at just that
+moment and helped him escape. Goujet was very serious as they walked back up
+the Rue du Faubourg Poissonniere. He was interested in politics and believed in
+the Republic. But he had never fired a gun because the common people were
+getting tired of fighting battles for the middle classes who always seemed to
+get the benefit of them.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+As they reached the top of the slope of the Rue du Faubourg Poissonniere,
+Goujet turned to look back at Paris and the mobs. After all, some day people
+would be sorry that they just stood by and did nothing. Coupeau laughed at
+this, saying you would be pretty stupid to risk your neck just to preserve the
+twenty-five francs a day for the lazybones in the Legislative Assembly. That
+evening the Coupeaus invited the Goujets to dinner. After desert Young Cassis
+and Golden Mouth kissed each other on the cheek. Their lives were joined till
+death.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+For three years the existence of the two families went on, on either side of
+the landing, without an event. Gervaise was able to take care of her daughter
+and still work most of the week. She was now a skilled worker on fine laundry
+and earned up to three francs a day. She decided to put Etienne, now nearly
+eight, into a small boarding-school on Rue de Chartres for five francs a week.
+Despite the expenses for the two children, they were able to save twenty or
+thirty francs each month. Once they had six hundred francs saved, Gervaise
+often lay awake thinking of her ambitious dream: she wanted to rent a small
+shop, hire workers, and go into the laundry business herself. If this effort
+worked, they would have a steady income from savings in twenty years. They
+could retire and live in the country.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Yet she hesitated, saying she was looking for the right shop. She was giving
+herself time to think it over. Their savings were safe in the bank, and growing
+larger. So, in three years&rsquo; time she had only fulfilled one of her
+dreams&mdash;she had bought a clock. But even this clock, made of rosewood with
+twined columns and a pendulum of gilded brass, was being paid for in
+installments of twenty-two sous each Monday for a year. She got upset if
+Coupeau tried to wind it; she liked to be the only one to lift off the glass
+dome. It was under the glass dome, behind the clock, that she hid her bank
+book. Sometimes, when she was dreaming of her shop, she would stare fixedly at
+the clock, lost in thought.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The Coupeaus went out nearly every Sunday with the Goujets. They were pleasant
+little excursions, sometimes to have some fried fish at Saint-Ouen, at others a
+rabbit at Vincennes, in the garden of some eating-house keeper without any
+grand display. The men drank sufficient to quench their thirst, and returned
+home as right as nine-pins, giving their arms to the ladies. In the evening
+before going to bed, the two families made up accounts and each paid half the
+expenses; and there was never the least quarrel about a sou more or less.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The Lorilleuxs became jealous of the Goujets. It seemed strange to them to see
+Young Cassis and Clump-clump going places all the time with strangers instead
+of their own relations. But, that&rsquo;s the way it was; some folks
+didn&rsquo;t care a bit about their family. Now that they had saved a few sous,
+they thought they were really somebody. Madame Lorilleux was much annoyed to
+see her brother getting away from her influence and begin to continually run
+down Gervaise to everyone. On the other hand, Madame Lerat took the young
+wife&rsquo;s side. Mother Coupeau tried to get along with everybody. She only
+wanted to be welcomed by all three of her children. Now that her eyesight was
+getting dimmer and dimmer she only had one regular house cleaning job but she
+was able to pick up some small jobs now and again.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+On the day on which Nana was three years old, Coupeau, on returning home in the
+evening, found Gervaise quite upset. She refused to talk about it; there was
+nothing at all the matter with her, she said. But, as she had the table all
+wrong, standing still with the plates in her hands, absorbed in deep
+reflection, her husband insisted upon knowing what was the matter.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Well, it is this,&rdquo; she ended by saying, &ldquo;the little
+draper&rsquo;s shop in the Rue de la Goutte-d&rsquo;Or, is to let. I saw it
+only an hour ago, when going to buy some cotton. It gave me quite a
+turn.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+It was a very decent shop, and in that big house where they dreamed of living
+in former days. There was the shop, a back room, and two other rooms to the
+right and left; in short, just what they required. The rooms were rather small,
+but well placed. Only, she considered they wanted too much; the landlord talked
+of five hundred francs.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;So you&rsquo;ve been over the place, and asked the price?&rdquo; said
+Coupeau.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Oh! you know, only out of curiosity!&rdquo; replied she, affecting an
+air of indifference. &ldquo;One looks about, and goes in wherever there&rsquo;s
+a bill up&mdash;that doesn&rsquo;t bind one to anything. But that shop is
+altogether too dear. Besides, it would perhaps be foolish of me to set up in
+business.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+However, after dinner, she again referred to the draper&rsquo;s shop. She drew
+a plan of the place on the margin of a newspaper. And, little by little, she
+talked it over, measuring the corners, and arranging the rooms, as though she
+were going to move all her furniture in there on the morrow. Then Coupeau
+advised her to take it, seeing how she wanted to do so; she would certainly
+never find anything decent under five hundred francs; besides they might
+perhaps get a reduction. He knew only one objection to it and that was living
+in the same house as the Lorilleux, whom she could not bear.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Gervaise declared that she wasn&rsquo;t mad at anybody. So much did she want
+her own shop that she even spoke up for the Lorilleuxs, saying that they
+weren&rsquo;t mean at heart and that she would be able to get along just fine
+with them. When they went to bed, Coupeau fell asleep immediately, but she
+stayed awake, planning how she could arrange the new place even though she
+hadn&rsquo;t yet made up her mind completely.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+On the morrow, when she was alone, she could not resist removing the glass
+cover from the clock, and taking a peep at the savings-bank book. To think that
+her shop was there, in those dirty pages, covered with ugly writing! Before
+going off to her work, she consulted Madame Goujet, who highly approved her
+project of setting up in business for herself; with a husband like hers, a good
+fellow who did not drink, she was certain of getting on, and of not having her
+earnings squandered. At the luncheon hour Gervaise even called on the
+Lorilleuxs to ask their advice; she did not wish to appear to be doing anything
+unknown to the family. Madame Lorilleux was struck all of a heap. What!
+Clump-clump was going in for a shop now! And her heart bursting with envy, she
+stammered, and tried to pretend to be pleased: no doubt the shop was a
+convenient one&mdash;Gervaise was right in taking it. However, when she had
+somewhat recovered, she and her husband talked of the dampness of the
+courtyard, of the poor light of the rooms on the ground floor. Oh! it was a
+good place for rheumatism. Yet, if she had made up her mind to take it, their
+observations, of course, would not make her alter her decision.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+That evening Gervaise frankly owned with a laugh that she would have fallen ill
+if she had been prevented from having the shop. Nevertheless, before saying
+&ldquo;it&rsquo;s done!&rdquo; she wished to take Coupeau to see the place, and
+try and obtain a reduction in the rent.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Very well, then, to-morrow, if you like,&rdquo; said her husband.
+&ldquo;You can come and fetch me towards six o&rsquo;clock at the house where
+I&rsquo;m working, in the Rue de la Nation, and we&rsquo;ll call in at the Rue
+de la Goutte-d&rsquo;Or on our way home.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Coupeau was then finishing the roofing of a new three-storied house. It so
+happened that on that day he was to fix the last sheets of zinc. As the roof
+was almost flat, he had set up his bench on it, a wide shutter supported on two
+trestles. A beautiful May sun was setting, giving a golden hue to the
+chimney-pots. And, right up at the top, against the clear sky, the workman was
+quietly cutting up his zinc with a big pair of shears, leaning over the bench,
+and looking like a tailor in his shop cutting out a pair of trousers. Close to
+the wall of the next house, his boy, a youngster of seventeen, thin and fair,
+was keeping the fire of the chafing dish blazing by the aid of an enormous pair
+of bellows, each puff of which raised a cloud of sparks.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Hi! Zidore, put in the irons!&rdquo; cried Coupeau.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The boy stuck the soldering irons into the midst of the charcoal, which looked
+a pale rose color in the daylight. Then he resumed blowing. Coupeau held the
+last sheet of zinc. It had to be placed at the edge of the roof, close to the
+gutter-pipe; there was an abrupt slant there, and the gaping void of the street
+opened beneath. The zinc-worker, just as though in his own home, wearing his
+list-shoes, advanced, dragging his feet, and whistling the air, &ldquo;Oh! the
+little lambs.&rdquo; Arrived in front of the opening, he let himself down, and
+then, supporting himself with one knee against the masonry of a chimney-stack,
+remained half-way out over the pavement below. One of his legs dangled. When he
+leant back to call that young viper, Zidore, he held on to a corner of the
+masonry, on account of the street beneath him.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;You confounded dawdler! Give me the irons! It&rsquo;s no use looking up
+in the air, you skinny beggar! The larks won&rsquo;t tumble into your mouth
+already cooked!&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+But Zidore did not hurry himself. He was interested in the neighboring roofs,
+and in a cloud of smoke which rose from the other side of Paris, close to
+Grenelle; it was very likely a fire. However, he came and laid down on his
+stomach, his head over the opening, and he passed the irons to Coupeau. Then
+the latter commenced to solder the sheet. He squatted, he stretched, always
+managing to balance himself, sometimes seated on one side, at other times
+standing on the tip of one foot, often only holding on by a finger. He had a
+confounded assurance, the devil&rsquo;s own cheek, familiar with danger, and
+braving it. It knew him. It was the street that was afraid, not he. As he kept
+his pipe in his mouth, he turned round every now and then to spit onto the
+pavement.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Look, there&rsquo;s Madame Boche,&rdquo; he suddenly exclaimed and
+called down to her. &ldquo;Hi! Madame Boche.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+He had just caught sight of the concierge crossing the road. She raised her
+head and recognised him, and a conversation ensued between them. She hid her
+hands under her apron, her nose elevated in the air. He, standing up now, his
+left arm passed round a chimney-pot, leant over.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Have you seen my wife?&rdquo; asked he.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;No, I haven&rsquo;t,&rdquo; replied the concierge. &ldquo;Is she around
+here?&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;She&rsquo;s coming to fetch me. And are they all well at home?&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Why, yes, thanks; I&rsquo;m the most ill, as you see. I&rsquo;m going to
+the Chaussee Clignancourt to buy a small leg of mutton. The butcher near the
+Moulin-Rouge only charges sixteen sous.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+They raised their voices, because a vehicle was passing. In the wide, deserted
+Rue de la Nation, their words, shouted out with all their might, had only
+caused a little old woman to come to her window; and this little old woman
+remained there leaning out, giving herself the treat of a grand emotion by
+watching that man on the roof over the way, as though she expected to see him
+fall, from one minute to another.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Well! Good evening,&rdquo; cried Madame Boche. &ldquo;I won&rsquo;t
+disturb you.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Coupeau turned round, and took back the iron that Zidore was holding for him.
+But just as the concierge was moving off, she caught sight of Gervaise on the
+other side of the way, holding Nana by the hand. She was already raising her
+head to tell the zinc-worker, when the young woman closed her mouth by an
+energetic gesture, and, in a low voice, so as not to be heard up there, she
+told her of her fear: she was afraid, by showing herself suddenly, of giving
+her husband a shock which might make him lose his balance. During the four
+years, she had only been once to fetch him at his work. That day was the second
+time. She could not witness it, her blood turned cold when she beheld her old
+man between heaven and earth, in places where even the sparrows would not
+venture.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;No doubt, it&rsquo;s not pleasant,&rdquo; murmured Madame Boche.
+&ldquo;My husband&rsquo;s a tailor, so I have none of these terrors.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;If you only knew, in the early days,&rdquo; said Gervaise again,
+&ldquo;I had frights from morning till night. I was always seeing him on a
+stretcher, with his head smashed. Now, I don&rsquo;t think of it so much. One
+gets used to everything. Bread must be earned. All the same, it&rsquo;s a
+precious dear loaf, for one risks one&rsquo;s bones more than is fair.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+And she left off speaking, hiding Nana in her skirt, fearing a cry from the
+little one. Very pale, she looked up in spite of herself. At that moment
+Coupeau was soldering the extreme edge of the sheet close to the gutter; he
+slid down as far as possible, but without being able to reach the edge. Then,
+he risked himself with those slow movements peculiar to workmen. For an instant
+he was immediately over the pavement, no long holding on, all absorbed in his
+work; and, from below, one could see the little white flame of the solder
+frizzling up beneath the carefully wielded iron. Gervaise, speechless, her
+throat contracted with anguish, had clasped her hands together, and held them
+up in mechanical gesture of prayer. But she breathed freely as Coupeau got up
+and returned back along the roof, without hurrying himself, and taking the time
+to spit once more into the street.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Ah! ah! so you&rsquo;ve been playing the spy on me!&rdquo; cried he,
+gaily, on beholding her. &ldquo;She&rsquo;s been making a stupid of herself,
+eh, Madame Boche? She wouldn&rsquo;t call to me. Wait a bit, I shall have
+finished in ten minutes.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+All that remained to do was to fix the top of the chimney&mdash;a mere nothing.
+The laundress and the concierge waited on the pavement, discussing the
+neighborhood, and giving an eye to Nana, to prevent her from dabbling in the
+gutter, where she wanted to look for little fishes; and the two women kept
+glancing up at the roof, smiling and nodding their heads, as though to imply
+that they were not losing patience. The old woman opposite had not left her
+window, had continued watching the man, and waiting.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Whatever can she have to look at, that old she-goat?&rdquo; said Madame
+Boche. &ldquo;What a mug she has!&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+One could hear the loud voice of the zinc-worker up above singing, &ldquo;Ah!
+it&rsquo;s nice to gather strawberries!&rdquo; Bending over his bench, he was
+now artistically cutting out his zinc. With his compasses he traced a line, and
+he detached a large fan-shaped piece with the aid of a pair of curved shears;
+then he lightly bent this fan with his hammer into the form of a pointed
+mushroom. Zidore was again blowing the charcoal in the chafing-dish. The sun
+was setting behind the house in a brilliant rosy light, which was gradually
+becoming paler, and turning to a delicate lilac. And, at this quiet hour of the
+day, right up against the sky, the silhouettes of the two workmen, looking
+inordinately large, with the dark line of the bench, and the strange profile of
+the bellows, stood out from the limpid back-ground of the atmosphere.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+When the chimney-top was got into shape, Coupeau called out: &ldquo;Zidore! The
+irons!&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+But Zidore had disappeared. The zinc-worker swore, and looked about for him,
+even calling him through the open skylight of the loft. At length he discovered
+him on a neighboring roof, two houses off. The young rogue was taking a walk,
+exploring the environs, his fair scanty locks blowing in the breeze, his eyes
+blinking as they beheld the immensity of Paris.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;I say, lazy bones! Do you think you&rsquo;re having a day in the
+country?&rdquo; asked Coupeau, in a rage. &ldquo;You&rsquo;re like Monsieur
+Beranger, composing verses, perhaps! Will you give me those irons! Did any one
+ever see such a thing! Strolling about on the house-tops! Why not bring your
+sweetheart at once, and tell her of your love? Will you give me those irons?
+You confounded little shirker!&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+He finished his soldering, and called to Gervaise: &ldquo;There, it&rsquo;s
+done. I&rsquo;m coming down.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The chimney-pot to which he had to fix the flue was in the middle of the roof.
+Gervaise, who was no longer uneasy, continued to smile as she followed his
+movements. Nana, amused all on a sudden by the view of her father, clapped her
+little hands. She had seated herself on the pavement to see the better up
+there.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Papa! Papa!&rdquo; called she with all her might. &ldquo;Papa! Just
+look!&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The zinc-worker wished to lean forward, but his foot slipped. Then suddenly,
+stupidly, like a cat with its legs entangled, he rolled and descended the
+slight slope of the roof without being able to grab hold of anything.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;<i>Mon Dieu</i>,&rdquo; he cried in a choked voice.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+And he fell. His body described a gentle curve, turned twice over on itself,
+and came smashing into the middle of the street with the dull thud of a bundle
+of clothes thrown from on high.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Gervaise, stupefied, her throat rent by one great cry, stood holding up her
+arms. Some passers-by hastened to the spot; a crowd soon formed. Madame Boche,
+utterly upset, her knees bending under her, took Nana in her arms, to hide her
+head and prevent her seeing. Meanwhile, the little old woman opposite quietly
+closed her window, as though satisfied.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Four men ended by carrying Coupeau into a chemist&rsquo;s, at the corner of the
+Rue des Poissonniers; and he remained there on a blanket, in the middle of the
+shop, whilst they sent to the Lariboisiere Hospital for a stretcher. He was
+still breathing.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Gervaise, sobbing, was kneeling on the floor beside him, her face smudged with
+tears, stunned and unseeing. Her hands would reach to feel her husband&rsquo;s
+limbs with the utmost gentleness. Then she would draw back as she had been
+warned not to touch him. But a few seconds later she would touch him to assure
+herself that he was still warm, feeling somehow that she was helping him.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+When the stretcher at length arrived, and they talked of starting for the
+hospital, she got up, saying violently:
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;No, no, not to the hospital! We live in the Rue Neuve de la
+Goutte-d&rsquo;Or.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+It was useless for them to explain to her that the illness would cost her a
+great deal of money, if she took her husband home. She obstinately repeated:
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Rue Neuve de la Goutte-d&rsquo;Or; I will show you the house. What can
+it matter to you? I&rsquo;ve got money. He&rsquo;s my husband, isn&rsquo;t he?
+He&rsquo;s mine, and I want him at home.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+And they had to take Coupeau to his own home. When the stretcher was carried
+through the crowd which was crushing up against the chemist&rsquo;s shop, the
+women of the neighborhood were excitedly talking of Gervaise. She limped, the
+dolt, but all the same she had some pluck. She would be sure to save her old
+man; whilst at the hospital the doctors let the patients die who were very bad,
+so as not to have the bother of trying to cure them. Madame Boche, after taking
+Nana home with her, returned, and gave her account of the accident, with
+interminable details, and still feeling agitated with the emotion she had
+passed through.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;I was going to buy a leg of mutton; I was there, I saw him fall,&rdquo;
+repeated she. &ldquo;It was all through the little one; he turned to look at
+her, and bang! Ah! good heavens! I never want to see such a sight again.
+However, I must be off to get my leg of mutton.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+For a week Coupeau was very bad. The family, the neighbors, everyone, expected
+to see him turn for the worse at any moment. The doctor&mdash;a very expensive
+doctor, who charged five francs for each visit&mdash;apprehended internal
+injuries, and these words filled everyone with fear. It was said in the
+neighborhood that the zinc-worker&rsquo;s heart had been injured by the shock.
+Gervaise alone, looking pale through her nights of watching, serious and
+resolute, shrugged her shoulders. Her old man&rsquo;s right leg was broken,
+everyone knew that; it would be set for him, and that was all. As for the rest,
+the injured heart, that was nothing. She knew how to restore a heart with
+ceaseless care. She was certain of getting him well and displayed magnificent
+faith. She stayed close by him and caressed him gently during the long bouts of
+fever without a moment of doubt. She was on her feet continuously for a whole
+week, completely absorbed by her determination to save him. She forgot the
+street outside, the entire city, and even her own children. On the ninth day,
+the doctor finally said that Coupeau would live. Gervaise collapsed into a
+chair, her body limp from fatigue. That night she consented to sleep for two
+hours with her head against the foot of the bed.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Coupeau&rsquo;s accident had created quite a commotion in the family. Mother
+Coupeau passed the nights with Gervaise; but as early as nine o&rsquo;clock she
+fell asleep on a chair. Every evening, on returning from work, Madame Lerat
+went a long round out of her way to inquire how her brother was getting on. At
+first the Lorilleuxs had called two or three times a day, offering to sit up
+and watch, and even bringing an easy-chair for Gervaise. Then it was not long
+before there were disputes as to the proper way to nurse invalids. Madame
+Lorilleux said that she had saved enough people&rsquo;s lives to know how to go
+about it. She accused the young wife of pushing her aside, of driving her away
+from her own brother&rsquo;s bed. Certainly that Clump-clump ought to be
+concerned about Coupeau&rsquo;s getting well, for if she hadn&rsquo;t gone to
+Rue de la Nation to disturb him at his job, he would never had fallen. Only,
+the way she was taking care of him, she would certainly finish him.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+When Gervaise saw that Coupeau was out of danger, she ceased guarding his
+bedside with so much jealous fierceness. Now, they could no longer kill him,
+and she let people approach without mistrust. The family invaded the room. The
+convalescence would be a very long one; the doctor had talked of four months.
+Then, during the long hours the zinc-worker slept, the Lorilleux talked of
+Gervaise as of a fool. She hadn&rsquo;t done any good by having her husband at
+home. At the hospital they would have cured him twice as quickly. Lorilleux
+would have liked to have been ill, to have caught no matter what, just to show
+her that he did not hesitate for a moment to go to Lariboisiere. Madame
+Lorilleux knew a lady who had just come from there. Well! She had had chicken
+to eat morning and night.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Again and again the two of them went over their estimate of how much four
+months of convalescence would cost; workdays lost, the doctor and the
+medicines, and afterward good wine and fresh meat. If the Coupeaus only used up
+their small savings, they would be very lucky indeed. They would probably have
+to go into debt. Well, that was to be expected and it was their business. They
+had no right to expect any help from the family, which couldn&rsquo;t afford
+the luxury of keeping an invalid at home. It was just Clump-clump&rsquo;s bad
+luck, wasn&rsquo;t it? Why couldn&rsquo;t she have done as others did and let
+her man be taken to hospital? This just showed how stuck up she was.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+One evening Madame Lorilleux had the spitefulness to ask Gervaise suddenly:
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Well! And your shop, when are you going to take it?&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Yes,&rdquo; chuckled Lorilleux, &ldquo;the landlord&rsquo;s still
+waiting for you.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Gervaise was astonished. She had completely forgotten the shop; but she saw the
+wicked joy of those people, at the thought that she would no longer be able to
+take it, and she was bursting with anger. From that evening, in fact, they
+watched for every opportunity to twit her about her hopeless dream. When any
+one spoke of some impossible wish, they would say that it might be realized on
+the day that Gervaise started in business, in a beautiful shop opening onto the
+street. And behind her back they would laugh fit to split their sides. She did
+not like to think such an unkind thing, but, really, the Lorilleuxs now seemed
+to be very pleased at Coupeau&rsquo;s accident, as it prevented her setting up
+as a laundress in the Rue de la Goutte-d&rsquo;Or.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Then she also wished to laugh, and show them how willingly she parted with the
+money for the sake of curing her husband. Each time she took the savings-bank
+book from beneath the glass clock-tower in their presence, she would say gaily:
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;I&rsquo;m going out; I&rsquo;m going to rent my shop.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+She had not been willing to withdraw the money all at once. She took it out a
+hundred francs at a time, so as not to keep such a pile of gold and silver in
+her drawer; then, too, she vaguely hoped for some miracle, some sudden
+recovery, which would enable them not to part with the entire sum. At each
+journey to the savings-bank, on her return home, she added up on a piece of
+paper the money they had still left there. It was merely for the sake of order.
+Their bank account might be getting smaller all the time, yet she went on with
+her quiet smile and common-sense attitude, keeping the account straight. It was
+a consolation to be able to use this money for such a good purpose, to have had
+it when faced with their misfortune.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+While Coupeau was bed-ridden the Goujets were very kind to Gervaise. Madame
+Goujet was always ready to assist. She never went to shop without stopping to
+ask Gervaise if there was anything she needed, sugar or butter or salt. She
+always brought over hot bouillon on the evenings she cooked <i>pot au feu</i>.
+Sometimes, when Gervaise seemed to have too much to do, Madame Goujet helped
+her do the dishes, or cleaned the kitchen herself. Goujet took her water pails
+every morning and filled them at the tap on Rue des Poissonniers, saving her
+two sous a day. After dinner, if no family came to visit, the Goujets would
+come over to visit with the Coupeaus.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Until ten o&rsquo;clock, the blacksmith would smoke his pipe and watch Gervaise
+busy with her invalid. He would not speak ten words the entire evening. He was
+moved to pity by the sight of her pouring Coupeau&rsquo;s tea and medicine into
+a cup, or stirring the sugar in it very carefully so as to make no sound with
+the spoon. It stirred him deeply when she would lean over Coupeau and speak in
+her soft voice. Never before had he known such a fine woman. Her limp increased
+the credit due her for wearing herself out doing things for her husband all day
+long. She never sat down for ten minutes, not even to eat. She was always
+running to the chemist&rsquo;s. And then she would still keep the house clean,
+not even a speck of dust. She never complained, no matter how exhausted she
+became. Goujet developed a very deep affection for Gervaise in this atmosphere
+of unselfish devotion.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+One day he said to the invalid, &ldquo;Well, old man, now you&rsquo;re patched
+up again! I wasn&rsquo;t worried about you. Your wife works miracles.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Goujet was supposed to be getting married. His mother had found a suitable
+girl, a lace-mender like herself, whom she was urging him to marry. He had
+agreed so as not to hurt her feelings and the wedding had been set for early
+September. Money had long since been saved to set them up in housekeeping.
+However, when Gervaise referred to his coming marriage, he shook his head,
+saying, &ldquo;Not every woman is like you, Madame Coupeau. If all women were
+like you, I&rsquo;d marry ten of them.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+At the end of two months, Coupeau was able to get up. He did not go far, only
+from the bed to the window, and even then Gervaise had to support him. There he
+would sit down in the easy-chair the Lorilleuxs had brought, with his right leg
+stretched out on a stool. This joker, who used to laugh at the people who
+slipped down on frosty days, felt greatly put out by his accident. He had no
+philosophy. He had spent those two months in bed, in cursing, and in worrying
+the people about him. It was not an existence, really, to pass one&rsquo;s life
+on one&rsquo;s back, with a pin all tied up and as stiff as a sausage. Ah, he
+certainly knew the ceiling by heart; there was a crack, at the corner of the
+alcove, that he could have drawn with his eyes shut. Then, when he was made
+comfortable in the easy-chair, it was another grievance. Would he be fixed
+there for long, just like a mummy?
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Nobody ever passed along the street, so it was no fun to watch. Besides, it
+stank of bleach water all day. No, he was just growing old; he&rsquo;d have
+given ten years of his life just to go see how the fortifications were getting
+along. He kept going on about his fate. It wasn&rsquo;t right, what had
+happened to him. A good worker like him, not a loafer or a drunkard, he could
+have understood in that case.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Papa Coupeau,&rdquo; said he, &ldquo;broke his neck one day that
+he&rsquo;d been boozing. I can&rsquo;t say that it was deserved, but anyhow it
+was explainable. I had had nothing since my lunch, was perfectly quiet, and
+without a drop of liquor in my body; and yet I came to grief just because I
+wanted to turn round to smile at Nana! Don&rsquo;t you think that&rsquo;s too
+much? If there is a providence, it certainly arranges things in a very peculiar
+manner. I, for one, shall never believe in it.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+And when at last he was able to use his legs, he retained a secret grudge
+against work. It was a handicraft full of misfortunes to pass one&rsquo;s days,
+like the cats, on the roofs of the houses. The employers were no fools! They
+sent you to your death&mdash;being far too cowardly to venture themselves on a
+ladder&mdash;and stopped at home in safety at their fire-sides without caring a
+hang for the poorer classes; and he got to the point of saying that everyone
+ought to fix the zinc himself on his own house. <i>Mon Dieu</i>! It was the
+only fair way to do it! If you don&rsquo;t want the rain to come in, do the
+work yourself. He regretted he hadn&rsquo;t learned another trade, something
+more pleasant, something less dangerous, maybe cabinetmaking. It was really his
+father&rsquo;s fault. Lots of fathers have the foolish habit of shoving their
+sons into their own line of work.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+For another two months Coupeau hobbled about on crutches. He had first of all
+managed to get as far as the street, and smoke his pipe in front of the door.
+Then he had managed to reach the exterior Boulevard, dragging himself along in
+the sunshine, and remaining for hours on one of the seats. Gaiety returned to
+him; his infernal tongue got sharper in these long hours of idleness. And with
+the pleasure of living, he gained there a delight in doing nothing, an indolent
+feeling took possession of his limbs, and his muscles gradually glided into a
+very sweet slumber. It was the slow victory of laziness, which took advantage
+of his convalescence to obtain possession of his body and unnerve him with its
+tickling. He regained his health, as thorough a banterer as before, thinking
+life beautiful, and not seeing why it should not last for ever.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+As soon as he could get about without the crutches, he made longer walks, often
+visiting construction jobs to see old comrades. He would stand with his arms
+folded, sneering and shaking his head, ridiculing the workers slaving at the
+job, stretching out his leg to show them what you got for wearing yourself out.
+Being able to stand about and mock others while they were working satisfied his
+spite against hard work. No doubt he&rsquo;d have to go back to it, but
+he&rsquo;d put it off as long as possible. He had a reason now to be lazy.
+Besides, it seemed good to him to loaf around like a bum!
+</p>
+
+<p>
+On the afternoons when Coupeau felt dull, he would call on the Lorilleuxs. The
+latter would pity him immensely, and attract him with all sorts of amiable
+attentions. During the first years following his marriage, he had avoided them,
+thanks to Gervaise&rsquo;s influence. Now they regained their sway over him by
+twitting him about being afraid of his wife. He was no man, that was evident!
+The Lorilleuxs, however, showed great discretion, and were loud in their praise
+of the laundress&rsquo;s good qualities. Coupeau, without as yet coming to
+wrangling, swore to the latter that his sister adored her, and requested that
+she would behave more amiably to her. The first quarrel which the couple had
+occurred one evening on account of Etienne. The zinc-worker had passed the
+afternoon with the Lorilleuxs. On arriving home, as the dinner was not quite
+ready, and the children were whining for their soup, he suddenly turned upon
+Etienne, and boxed his ears soundly. And during an hour he did not cease to
+grumble; the brat was not his; he did not know why he allowed him to be in the
+place; he would end by turning him out into the street. Up till then he had
+tolerated the youngster without all that fuss. On the morrow he talked of his
+dignity. Three days after, he kept kicking the little fellow, morning and
+evening, so much so that the child, whenever he heard him coming, bolted into
+the Goujets&rsquo; where the old lace-mender kept a corner of the table clear
+for him to do his lessons.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Gervaise had for some time past, returned to work. She no longer had the
+trouble of looking under the glass cover of the clock; all the savings were
+gone; and she had to work hard, work for four, for there were four to feed now.
+She alone maintained them. Whenever she heard people pitying her, she at once
+found excuses for Coupeau. Recollect! He had suffered so much; it was not
+surprising if his disposition had soured! But it would pass off when his health
+returned. And if any one hinted that Coupeau seemed all right again, that he
+could very well return to work, she protested: No, no; not yet! She did not
+want to see him take to his bed again. They would allow her to know best what
+the doctor said, perhaps! It was she who prevented him returning to work,
+telling him every morning to take his time and not to force himself. She even
+slipped twenty sou pieces into his waistcoat pocket. Coupeau accepted this as
+something perfectly natural. He was always complaining of aches and pains so
+that she would coddle him. At the end of six months he was still convalescing.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Now, whenever he went to watch others working, he was always ready to join his
+comrades in downing a shot. It wasn&rsquo;t so bad, after all. They had their
+fun, and they never stayed more than five minutes. That couldn&rsquo;t hurt
+anybody. Only a hypocrite would say he went in because he wanted a drink. No
+wonder they had laughed at him in the past. A glass of wine never hurt anybody.
+He only drank wine though, never brandy. Wine never made you sick, didn&rsquo;t
+get you drunk, and helped you to live longer. Soon though, several times, after
+a day of idleness in going from one building job to another, he came home half
+drunk. On those occasions Gervaise pretended to have a terrible headache and
+kept their door closed so that the Goujets wouldn&rsquo;t hear Coupeau&rsquo;s
+drunken babblings.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Little by little, the young woman lost her cheerfulness. Morning and evening
+she went to the Rue de la Goutte-d&rsquo;Or to look at the shop, which was
+still to be let; and she would hide herself as though she were committing some
+childish prank unworthy of a grown-up person. This shop was beginning to turn
+her brain. At night-time, when the light was out she experienced the charm of
+some forbidden pleasure by thinking of it with her eyes open. She again made
+her calculations; two hundred and fifty francs for the rent, one hundred and
+fifty francs for utensils and moving, one hundred francs in hand to keep them
+going for a fortnight&mdash;in all five hundred francs at the very lowest
+figure. If she was not continually thinking of it aloud, it was for fear she
+should be suspected of regretting the savings swallowed up by Coupeau&rsquo;s
+illness. She often became quite pale, having almost allowed her desire to
+escape her and catching back her words, quite confused as though she had been
+thinking of something wicked. Now they would have to work for four or five
+years before they would succeed in saving such a sum. Her regret was at not
+being able to start in business at once; she would have earned all the home
+required, without counting on Coupeau, letting him take months to get into the
+way of work again; she would no longer have been uneasy, but certain of the
+future and free from the secret fears which sometimes seized her when he
+returned home very gay and singing, and relating some joke of that animal
+My-Boots, whom he had treated to a drink.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+One evening, Gervaise being at home alone, Goujet entered, and did not hurry
+off again, according to his habit. He seated himself, and smoked as he watched
+her. He probably had something very serious to say; he thought it over, let it
+ripen without being able to put it into suitable words. At length, after a long
+silence, he appeared to make up his mind, and took his pipe out of his mouth to
+say all in a breath:
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Madame Gervaise, will you allow me to lend you some money?&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+She was leaning over an open drawer, looking for some dish-cloths. She got up,
+her face very red. He must have seen her then, in the morning, standing in
+ecstacy before the shop for close upon ten minutes. He was smiling in an
+embarrassed way, as though he had made some insulting proposal. But she hastily
+refused. Never would she accept money from any one without knowing when she
+would be able to return it. Then also it was a question of too large an amount.
+And as he insisted, in a frightened manner, she ended by exclaiming:
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;But your marriage? I certainly can&rsquo;t take the money you&rsquo;ve
+been saving for your marriage!&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Oh, don&rsquo;t let that bother you,&rdquo; he replied, turning red in
+his turn. &ldquo;I&rsquo;m not going to be married now. That was just an idea,
+you know. Really, I would much sooner lend you the money.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Then they both held down their heads. There was something very pleasant between
+them to which they did not give expression. And Gervaise accepted. Goujet had
+told his mother. They crossed the landing, and went to see her at once. The
+lace-mender was very grave, and looked rather sad as she bent her face over her
+tambour-frame. She would not thwart her son, but she no longer approved
+Gervaise&rsquo;s project; and she plainly told her why. Coupeau was going to
+the bad; Coupeau would swallow up her shop. She especially could not forgive
+the zinc-worker for having refused to learn to read during his convalescence.
+The blacksmith had offered to teach him, but the other had sent him to the
+right about, saying that learning made people get thin. This had almost caused
+a quarrel between the two workmen; each went his own way. Madame Goujet,
+however, seeing her big boy&rsquo;s beseeching glances, behaved very kindly to
+Gervaise. It was settled that they would lend their neighbors five hundred
+francs; the latter were to repay the amount by installments of twenty francs a
+month; it would last as long as it lasted.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;I say, the blacksmith&rsquo;s sweet on you,&rdquo; exclaimed Coupeau,
+laughing, when he heard what had taken place. &ldquo;Oh, I&rsquo;m quite easy;
+he&rsquo;s too big a muff. We&rsquo;ll pay him back his money. But, really, if
+he had to deal with some people, he&rsquo;d find himself pretty well
+duped.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+On the morrow the Coupeaus took the shop. All day long, Gervaise was running
+from Rue Neuve de la Goutte-d&rsquo;Or. When the neighbors beheld her pass
+thus, nimble and delighted to the extent that she no longer limped, they said
+she must have undergone some operation.
+</p>
+
+</div><!--end chapter-->
+
+<div class="chapter">
+
+<h2><a name="link2HCH0005" id="link2HCH0005"></a>
+CHAPTER V.</h2>
+
+<p>
+It so happened that the Boches had left the Rue des Poissonniers at the April
+quarter, and were now taking charge of the great house in the Rue de la
+Goutte-d&rsquo;Or. It was a curious coincidence, all the same! One thing that
+worried Gervaise who had lived so quietly in her lodgings in the Rue Neuve, was
+the thought of again being under the subjection of some unpleasant person, with
+whom she would be continually quarrelling, either on account of water spilt in
+the passage or of a door shut too noisily at night-time. Concierges are such a
+disagreeable class! But it would be a pleasure to be with the Boches. They knew
+one another&mdash;they would always get on well together. It would be just like
+members of the same family.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+On the day the Coupeaus went to sign their lease, Gervaise felt her heart
+swollen with pride as she passed through the high doorway. She was then at
+length going to live in that house as vast as a little town, with its
+interminable staircases, and passages as long and winding as streets. She was
+excited by everything: the gray walls with varicolored rugs hanging from
+windows to dry in the sun, the dingy courtyard with as many holes in its
+pavement as a public square, the hum of activity coming through the walls. She
+felt joy that she was at last about to realize her ambition. She also felt fear
+that she would fail and be crushed in the endless struggle against the poverty
+and starvation she could feel breathing down her neck. It seemed to her that
+she was doing something very bold, throwing herself into the midst of some
+machinery in motion, as she listened to the blacksmith&rsquo;s hammers and the
+cabinetmakers&rsquo; planes, hammering and hissing in the depths of the
+work-shops on the ground floor. On that day the water flowing from the
+dyer&rsquo;s under the entrance porch was a very pale apple green. She
+smilingly stepped over it; to her the color was a pleasant omen.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The meeting with the landlord was to take place in the Boches&rsquo; room.
+Monsieur Marescot, a wealthy cutler of the Rue de la Paix, had at one time
+turned a grindstone through the streets. He was now stated to be worth several
+millions. He was a man of fifty-five, large and big-boned. Even though he now
+wore a decoration in his button-hole, his huge hands were still those of a
+former workingman. It was his joy to carry off the scissors and knives of his
+tenants, to sharpen them himself, for the fun of it. He often stayed for hours
+with his concierges, closed up in the darkness of their lodges, going over the
+accounts. That&rsquo;s where he did all his business. He was now seated by
+Madame Boche&rsquo;s kitchen table, listening to her story of how the
+dressmaker on the third floor, staircase A, had used a filthy word in refusing
+to pay her rent. He had had to work precious hard once upon a time. But work
+was the high road to everything. And, after counting the two hundred and fifty
+francs for the first two quarters in advance, and dropping them into his
+capacious pocket, he related the story of his life, and showed his decoration.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Gervaise, however, felt rather ill at ease on account of the Boches&rsquo;
+behavior. They pretended not to know her. They were most assiduous in their
+attentions to the landlord, bowing down before him, watching for his least
+words, and nodding their approval of them. Madame Boche suddenly ran out and
+dispersed a group of children who were paddling about in front of the cistern,
+the tap of which they had turned full on, causing the water to flow over the
+pavement; and when she returned, upright and severe in her skirts, crossing the
+courtyard and glancing slowly up at all the windows, as though to assure
+herself of the good behavior of the household, she pursed her lips in a way to
+show with what authority she was invested, now that she reigned over three
+hundred tenants. Boche again spoke of the dressmaker on the second floor; he
+advised that she should be turned out; he reckoned up the number of quarters
+she owed with the importance of a steward whose management might be
+compromised. Monsieur Marescot approved the suggestion of turning her out, but
+he wished to wait till the half quarter. It was hard to turn people out into
+the street, more especially as it did not put a sou into the landlord&rsquo;s
+pocket. And Gervaise asked herself with a shudder if she too would be turned
+out into the street the day that some misfortune rendered her unable to pay.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The concierge&rsquo;s lodge was as dismal as a cellar, black from smoke and
+crowded with dark furniture. All the sunlight fell upon the tailor&rsquo;s
+workbench by the window. An old frock coat that was being reworked lay on it.
+The Boches&rsquo; only child, a four-year-old redhead named Pauline, was
+sitting on the floor, staring quietly at the veal simmering on the stove,
+delighted with the sharp odor of cooking that came from the frying pan.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Monsieur Marescot again held out his hand to the zinc-worker, when the latter
+spoke of the repairs, recalling to his mind a promise he had made to talk the
+matter over later on. But the landlord grew angry, he had never promised
+anything; besides, it was not usual to do any repairs to a shop. However, he
+consented to go over the place, followed by the Coupeaus and Boche. The little
+linen-draper had carried off all his shelves and counters; the empty shop
+displayed its blackened ceiling and its cracked wall, on which hung strips of
+an old yellow paper. In the sonorous emptiness of the place, there ensued a
+heated discussion. Monsieur Marescot exclaimed that it was the business of
+shopkeepers to embellish their shops, for a shopkeeper might wish to have gold
+put about everywhere, and he, the landlord, could not put out gold. Then he
+related that he had spent more than twenty thousand francs in fitting up his
+premises in the Rue de la Paix. Gervaise, with her woman&rsquo;s obstinacy,
+kept repeating an argument which she considered unanswerable. He would repaper
+a lodging, would he not? Then, why did he not treat the shop the same as a
+lodging? She did not ask him for anything else&mdash;only to whitewash the
+ceiling, and put some fresh paper on the walls.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Boche, all this while, remained dignified and impenetrable; he turned about and
+looked up in the air, without expressing an opinion. Coupeau winked at him in
+vain; he affected not to wish to take advantage of his great influence over the
+landlord. He ended, however, by making a slight grimace&mdash;a little smile
+accompanied by a nod of the head. Just then Monsieur Marescot, exasperated, and
+seemingly very unhappy, and clutching his fingers like a miser being despoiled
+of his gold, was giving way to Gervaise, promising to do the ceiling and
+repaper the shop on condition that she paid for half of the paper. And he
+hurried away declining to discuss anything further.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Now that Boche was alone with the Coupeaus, the concierge became quite
+talkative and slapped them on the shoulders. Well, well, see what they had
+gotten. Without his help, they would never have gotten the concessions.
+Didn&rsquo;t they notice how the landlord had looked to him out of the corner
+of his eye for advice and how he&rsquo;d made up his mind suddenly when he saw
+Boche smile? He confessed to them confidentially that he was the real boss of
+the building. It was he who decided who got eviction notices and who could
+become tenants. He collected all the rents and kept them for a couple of weeks
+in his bureau drawer.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+That evening the Coupeaus, to express their gratitude to the Boches, sent them
+two bottles of wine as a present.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The following Monday the workmen started doing up the shop. The purchasing of
+the paper turned out especially to be a very big affair. Gervaise wanted a grey
+paper with blue flowers, so as to enliven and brighten the walls. Boche offered
+to take her to the dealers, so that she might make her own selection. But the
+landlord had given him formal instructions not to go beyond the price of
+fifteen sous the piece. They were there an hour. The laundress kept looking in
+despair at a very pretty chintz pattern costing eighteen sous the piece, and
+thought all the other papers hideous. At length the concierge gave in; he would
+arrange the matter, and, if necessary, would make out there was a piece more
+used than was really the case. So, on her way home, Gervaise purchased some
+tarts for Pauline. She did not like being behindhand&mdash;one always gained by
+behaving nicely to her.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The shop was to be ready in four days. The workmen were there three weeks. At
+first it was arranged that they should merely wash the paint. But this paint,
+originally maroon, was so dirty and so sad-looking, that Gervaise allowed
+herself to be tempted to have the whole of the frontage painted a light blue
+with yellow moldings. Then the repairs seemed as though they would last for
+ever. Coupeau, as he was still not working, arrived early each morning to see
+how things were going. Boche left the overcoat or trousers on which he was
+working to come and supervise. Both of them would stand and watch with their
+hands behind their backs, puffing on their pipes.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The painters were very merry fellows who would often desert their work to stand
+in the middle of the shop and join the discussion, shaking their heads for
+hours, admiring the work already done. The ceiling had been whitewashed
+quickly, but the paint on the walls never seemed to dry in a hurry.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Around nine o&rsquo;clock the painters would arrive with their paint pots which
+they stuck in a corner. They would look around and then disappear. Perhaps they
+went to eat breakfast. Sometimes Coupeau would take everyone for a
+drink&mdash;Boche, the two painters and any of Coupeau&rsquo;s friends who were
+nearby. This meant another afternoon wasted.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Gervaise&rsquo;s patience was thoroughly exhausted, when, suddenly, everything
+was finished in two days, the paint varnished, the paper hung, and the dirt all
+cleared away. The workmen had finished it off as though they were playing,
+whistling away on their ladders, and singing loud enough to deafen the whole
+neighborhood.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The moving in took place at once. During the first few days Gervaise felt as
+delighted as a child. Whenever she crossed the road on returning from some
+errand, she lingered to smile at her home. From a distance her shop appeared
+light and gay with its pale blue signboard, on which the word
+&ldquo;Laundress&rdquo; was painted in big yellow letters, amidst the dark row
+of the other frontages. In the window, closed in behind by little muslin
+curtains, and hung on either side with blue paper to show off the whiteness of
+the linen, some shirts were displayed, with some women&rsquo;s caps hanging
+above them on wires. She thought her shop looked pretty, being the same color
+as the heavens.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Inside there was more blue; the paper, in imitation of a Pompadour chintz,
+represented a trellis overgrown with morning-glories. A huge table, taking up
+two-thirds of the room, was her ironing-table. It was covered with thick
+blanketing and draped with a strip of cretonne patterned with blue flower
+sprays that hid the trestles beneath.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Gervaise was enchanted with her pretty establishment and would often seat
+herself on a stool and sigh with contentment, delighted with all the new
+equipment. Her first glance always went to the cast-iron stove where the irons
+were heated ten at a time, arranged over the heat on slanting rests. She would
+kneel down to look into the stove to make sure the apprentice had not put in
+too much coke.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The lodging at the back of the shop was quite decent. The Coupeaus slept in the
+first room, where they also did the cooking and took their meals; a door at the
+back opened on to the courtyard of the house. Nana&rsquo;s bed was in the right
+hand room, which was lighted by a little round window close to the ceiling. As
+for Etienne, he shared the left hand room with the dirty clothes, enormous
+bundles of which lay about on the floor. However, there was one
+disadvantage&mdash;the Coupeaus would not admit it at first&mdash;but the damp
+ran down the walls, and it was impossible to see clearly in the place after
+three o&rsquo;clock in the afternoon.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+In the neighborhood the new shop produced a great sensation. The Coupeaus were
+accused of going too fast, and making too much fuss. They had, in fact, spent
+the five hundred francs lent by the Goujets in fitting up the shop and in
+moving, without keeping sufficient to live upon for a fortnight, as they had
+intended doing. The morning that Gervaise took down her shutters for the first
+time, she had just six francs in her purse. But that did not worry her,
+customers began to arrive, and things seemed promising. A week later on the
+Saturday, before going to bed, she remained two hours making calculations on a
+piece of paper, and she awoke Coupeau to tell him, with a bright look on her
+face, that there were hundreds and thousands of francs to be made, if they were
+only careful.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Ah, well!&rdquo; said Madame Lorilleux all over the Rue de la
+Goutte-d&rsquo;Or, &ldquo;my fool of a brother is seeing some funny things! All
+that was wanting was that Clump-clump should go about so haughty. It becomes
+her well, doesn&rsquo;t it?&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The Lorilleuxs had declared a feud to the death against Gervaise. To begin
+with, they had almost died of rage during the time while the repairs were being
+done to the shop. If they caught sight of the painters from a distance, they
+would walk on the other side of the way, and go up to their rooms with their
+teeth set. A blue shop for that &ldquo;nobody,&rdquo; it was enough to
+discourage all honest, hard-working people! Besides, the second day after the
+shop opened the apprentice happened to throw out a bowl of starch just at the
+moment when Madame Lorilleux was passing. The zinc-worker&rsquo;s sister caused
+a great commotion in the street, accusing her sister-in-law of insulting her
+through her employees. This broke off all relations. Now they only exchanged
+terrible glares when they encountered each other.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Yes, she leads a pretty life!&rdquo; Madame Lorilleux kept saying.
+&ldquo;We all know where the money came from that she paid for her wretched
+shop! She borrowed it from the blacksmith; and he springs from a nice family
+too! Didn&rsquo;t the father cut his own throat to save the guillotine the
+trouble of doing so? Anyhow, there was something disreputable of that
+sort!&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+She bluntly accused Gervaise of flirting with Goujet. She lied&mdash;she
+pretended she had surprised them together one night on a seat on the exterior
+Boulevards. The thought of this liaison, of pleasures that her sister-in-law
+was no doubt enjoying, exasperated her still more, because of her own ugly
+woman&rsquo;s strict sense of propriety. Every day the same cry came from her
+heart to her lips.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;What does she have, that wretched cripple, for people to fall in love
+with her? Why doesn&rsquo;t any one want me?&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+She busied herself in endless gossiping among the neighbors. She told them the
+whole story. The day the Coupeaus got married she turned up her nose at her.
+Oh, she had a keen nose, she could smell in advance how it would turn out.
+Then, Clump-clump pretended to be so sweet, what a hypocrite! She and her
+husband had only agreed to be Nana&rsquo;s godparents for the sake of her
+brother. What a bundle it had cost, that fancy christening. If Clump-clump were
+on her deathbed she wouldn&rsquo;t give her a glass of water, no matter how
+much she begged.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+She didn&rsquo;t want anything to do with such a shameless baggage. Little Nana
+would always be welcome when she came up to see her godparents. The child
+couldn&rsquo;t be blamed for her mother&rsquo;s sins. But there was no use
+trying to tell Coupeau anything. Any real man in his situation would have
+beaten his wife and put a stop to it all. All they wanted was for him to insist
+on respect for his family. <i>Mon Dieu</i>! If she, Madame Lorilleux, had acted
+like that, Coupeau wouldn&rsquo;t be so complacent. He would have stabbed her
+for sure with his shears.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The Boches, however, who sternly disapproved of quarrels in their building,
+said that the Lorilleuxs were in the wrong. The Lorilleuxs were no doubt
+respectable persons, quiet, working the whole day long, and paying their rent
+regularly. But, really, jealousy had driven them mad. And they were mean enough
+to skin an egg, real misers. They were so stingy that they&rsquo;d hide their
+bottle when any one came in, so as not to have to offer a glass of
+wine&mdash;not regular people at all.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Gervaise had brought over cassis and soda water one day to drink with the
+Boches. When Madame Lorilleux went by, she acted out spitting before the
+concierge&rsquo;s door. Well, after that when Madame Boche swept the corridors
+on Saturdays, she always left a pile of trash before the Lorilleuxs&rsquo;
+door.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;It isn&rsquo;t to be wondered at!&rdquo; Madame Lorilleux would exclaim,
+&ldquo;Clump-clump&rsquo;s always stuffing them, the gluttons! Ah!
+they&rsquo;re all alike; but they had better not annoy me! I&rsquo;ll complain
+to the landlord. Only yesterday I saw that sly old Boche chasing after Madame
+Gaudron&rsquo;s skirts. Just fancy! A woman of that age, and who has half a
+dozen children, too; it&rsquo;s positively disgusting! If I catch them at
+anything of the sort again, I&rsquo;ll tell Madame Boche, and she&rsquo;ll give
+them both a hiding. It&rsquo;ll be something to laugh at.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Mother Coupeau continued to visit the two houses, agreeing with everybody and
+even managing to get asked oftener to dinner, by complaisantly listening one
+night to her daughter and the next night to her daughter-in-law.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+However, Madame Lerat did not go to visit the Coupeaus because she had argued
+with Gervaise about a Zouave who had cut the nose of his mistress with a razor.
+She was on the side of the Zouave, saying it was evidence of a great passion,
+but without explaining further her thought. Then, she had made Madame Lorilleux
+even more angry by telling her that Clump-clump had called her &ldquo;Cow
+Tail&rdquo; in front of fifteen or twenty people. Yes, that&rsquo;s what the
+Boches and all the neighbors called her now, &ldquo;Cow Tail.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Gervaise remained calm and cheerful among all these goings-on. She often stood
+by the door of her shop greeting friends who passed by with a nod and a smile.
+It was her pleasure to take a moment between batches of ironing to enjoy the
+street and take pride in her own stretch of sidewalk.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+She felt that the Rue de la Goutte d&rsquo;Or was hers, and the neighboring
+streets, and the whole neighborhood. As she stood there, with her blonde hair
+slightly damp from the heat of the shop, she would look left and right, taking
+in the people, the buildings, and the sky. To the left Rue de la Goutte
+d&rsquo;Or was peaceful and almost empty, like a country town with women idling
+in their doorways. While, to the right, only a short distance away, Rue des
+Poissonniers had a noisy throng of people and vehicles.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The stretch of gutter before her own shop became very important in her mind. It
+was like a wide river which she longed to see neat and clean. It was a lively
+river, colored by the dye shop with the most fanciful of hues which contrasted
+with the black mud beside it.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Then there were the shops: a large grocery with a display of dried fruits
+protected by mesh nets; a shop selling work clothes which had white tunics and
+blue smocks hanging before it with arms that waved at the slightest breeze.
+Cats were purring on the counters of the fruit store and the tripe shop. Madame
+Vigouroux, the coal dealer next door, returned her greetings. She was a plump,
+short woman with bright eyes in a dark face who was always joking with the men
+while standing at her doorway. Her shop was decorated in imitation of a rustic
+chalet. The neighbors on the other side were a mother and daughter, the
+Cudorges. The umbrella sellers kept their door closed and never came out to
+visit.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Gervaise always looked across the road, too, through the wide carriage entrance
+of the windowless wall opposite her, at the blacksmith&rsquo;s forge. The
+courtyard was cluttered with vans and carts. Inscribed on the wall was the word
+&ldquo;Blacksmith.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+At the lower end of the wall between the small shops selling scrap iron and
+fried potatoes was a watchmaker. He wore a frock coat and was always very neat.
+His cuckoo clocks could be heard in chorus against the background noise of the
+street and the blacksmith&rsquo;s rhythmic clanging.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The neighborhood in general thought Gervaise very nice. There was, it is true,
+a good deal of scandal related regarding her; but everyone admired her large
+eyes, small mouth and beautiful white teeth. In short she was a pretty blonde,
+and had it not been for her crippled leg she might have ranked amongst the
+comeliest. She was now in her twenty-eighth year, and had grown considerably
+plumper. Her fine features were becoming puffy, and her gestures were assuming
+a pleasant indolence.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+At times she occasionally seemed to forget herself on the edge of a chair,
+whilst she waited for her iron to heat, smiling vaguely and with an expression
+of greedy joy upon her face. She was becoming fond of good living, everybody
+said so; but that was not a very grave fault, but rather the contrary. When one
+earns sufficient to be able to buy good food, one would be foolish to eat
+potato parings. All the more so as she continued to work very hard, slaving to
+please her customers, sitting up late at night after the place was closed,
+whenever there was anything urgent.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+She was lucky as all her neighbors said; everything prospered with her. She did
+the washing for all the house&mdash;M. Madinier, Mademoiselle Remanjou, the
+Boches. She even secured some of the customers of her old employer, Madame
+Fauconnier, Parisian ladies living in the Rue du Faubourg-Poissonniere. As
+early as the third week she was obliged to engage two workwomen, Madame Putois
+and tall Clemence, the girl who used to live on the sixth floor; counting her
+apprentice, that little squint-eyed Augustine, who was as ugly as a
+beggar&rsquo;s behind, that made three persons in her employ. Others would
+certainly have lost their heads at such a piece of good fortune. It was
+excusable for her to slack a little on Monday after drudging all through the
+week. Besides, it was necessary to her. She would have had no courage left, and
+would have expected to see the shirts iron themselves, if she had not been able
+to dress up in some pretty thing.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Gervaise was always so amiable, meek as a lamb, sweet as sugar. There
+wasn&rsquo;t any one she disliked except Madame Lorilleux. While she was
+enjoying a good meal and coffee, she could be indulgent and forgive everybody
+saying: &ldquo;We have to forgive each other&mdash;don&rsquo;t we?&mdash;unless
+we want to live like savages.&rdquo; Hadn&rsquo;t all her dreams come true? She
+remembered her old dream: to have a job, enough bread to eat and a corner in
+which to sleep, to bring up her children, not to be beaten, and to die in her
+own bed. She had everything she wanted now and more than she had ever expected.
+She laughed, thinking of delaying dying in her own bed as long as possible.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+It was to Coupeau especially that Gervaise behaved nicely. Never an angry word,
+never a complaint behind her husband&rsquo;s back. The zinc-worker had at
+length resumed work; and as the job he was engaged on was at the other side of
+Paris, she gave him every morning forty sous for his luncheon, his glass of
+wine and his tobacco. Only, two days out of every six, Coupeau would stop on
+the way, spend the forty sous in drink with a friend, and return home to lunch,
+with some cock-and-bull story. Once even he did not take the trouble to go far;
+he treated himself, My-Boots and three others to a regular feast&mdash;snails,
+roast meat, and some sealed bottles of wine&mdash;at the
+&ldquo;Capuchin,&rdquo; on the Barriere de la Chapelle. Then, as his forty sous
+were not sufficient, he had sent the waiter to his wife with the bill and the
+information that he was in pawn. She laughed and shrugged her shoulders. Where
+was the harm if her old man amused himself a bit? You must give men a long rein
+if you want to live peaceably at home. From one word to another, one soon
+arrived at blows. <i>Mon Dieu</i>! It was easy to understand. Coupeau still
+suffered from his leg; besides, he was led astray. He was obliged to do as the
+others did, or else he would be thought a cheap skate. And it was really a
+matter of no consequence. If he came home a bit elevated, he went to bed, and
+two hours afterwards he was all right again.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+It was now the warm time of the year. One June afternoon, a Saturday when there
+was a lot of work to get through, Gervaise herself had piled the coke into the
+stove, around which ten irons were heating, whilst a rumbling sound issued from
+the chimney. At that hour the sun was shining full on the shop front, and the
+pavement reflected the heat waves, causing all sorts of quaint shadows to dance
+over the ceiling, and that blaze of light which assumed a bluish tinge from the
+color of the paper on the shelves and against the window, was almost blinding
+in the intensity with which it shone over the ironing-table, like a golden dust
+shaken among the fine linen. The atmosphere was stifling. The shop door was
+thrown wide open, but not a breath of air entered; the clothes which were hung
+up on brass wires to dry, steamed and became as stiff as shavings in less than
+three quarters of an hour. For some little while past an oppressive silence had
+reigned in that furnace-like heat, interrupted only by the smothered sound of
+the banging down of the irons on the thick blanket covered with calico.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Ah, well!&rdquo; said Gervaise, &ldquo;it&rsquo;s enough to melt one! We
+might have to take off our chemises.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+She was sitting on the floor, in front of a basin, starching some things. Her
+sleeves were rolled up and her camisole was slipping down her shoulders. Little
+curls of golden hair were stuck to her skin by perspiration. She carefully
+dipped caps, shirt-fronts, entire petticoats, and the trimmings of
+women&rsquo;s drawers into the milky water. Then she rolled the things up and
+placed them at the bottom of a square basket, after dipping her hand in a pail
+and shaking it over the portions of the shirts and drawers which she had not
+starched.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;This basketful&rsquo;s for you, Madame Putois,&rdquo; she said.
+&ldquo;Look sharp, now! It dries at once, and will want doing all over again in
+an hour.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Madame Putois, a thin little woman of forty-five, was ironing. Though she was
+buttoned up in an old chestnut-colored dress, there was not a drop of
+perspiration to be seen. She had not even taken her cap off, a black cap
+trimmed with green ribbons turned partly yellow. And she stood perfectly
+upright in front of the ironing-table, which was too high for her, sticking out
+her elbows, and moving her iron with the jerky evolutions of a puppet. On a
+sudden she exclaimed:
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Ah, no! Mademoiselle Clemence, you mustn&rsquo;t take your camisole off.
+You know I don&rsquo;t like such indecencies. Whilst you&rsquo;re about it,
+you&rsquo;d better show everything. There&rsquo;s already three men over the
+way stopping to look.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Tall Clemence called her an old beast between her teeth. She was suffocating;
+she might certainly make herself comfortable; everyone was not gifted with a
+skin as dry as touchwood. Besides no one could see anything; and she held up
+her arms, whilst her opulent bosom almost ripped her chemise, and her shoulders
+were bursting through the straps. At the rate she was going, Clemence was not
+likely to have any marrow left in her bones long before she was thirty years
+old. Mornings after big parties she was unable to feel the ground she trod
+upon, and fell asleep over her work, whilst her head and her stomach seemed as
+though stuffed full of rags. But she was kept on all the same, for no other
+workwoman could iron a shirt with her style. Shirts were her specialty.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;This is mine, isn&rsquo;t it?&rdquo; she declared, tapping her bosom.
+&ldquo;And it doesn&rsquo;t bite; it hurts nobody!&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Clemence, put your wrapper on again,&rdquo; said Gervaise. &ldquo;Madame
+Putois is right, it isn&rsquo;t decent. People will begin to take my house for
+what it isn&rsquo;t.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+So tall Clemence dressed herself again, grumbling the while. &ldquo;<i>Mon
+Dieu!</i> There&rsquo;s prudery for you.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+And she vented her rage on the apprentice, that squint-eyed Augustine who was
+ironing some stockings and handkerchiefs beside her. She jostled her and pushed
+her with her elbow; but Augustine who was of a surly disposition, and slyly
+spiteful in the way of an animal and a drudge, spat on the back of the
+other&rsquo;s dress just out of revenge, without being seen. Gervaise, during
+this incident, had commenced a cap belonging to Madame Boche, which she
+intended to take great pains with. She had prepared some boiled starch to make
+it look new again. She was gently passing a little iron rounded at both ends
+over the inside of the crown of the cap, when a bony-looking woman entered the
+shop, her face covered with red blotches and her skirts sopping wet. It was a
+washerwoman who employed three assistants at the wash-house in the Rue de la
+Goutte-d&rsquo;Or.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;You&rsquo;ve come too soon, Madame Bijard!&rdquo; cried Gervaise.
+&ldquo;I told you to call this evening. I&rsquo;m too busy to attend to you
+now!&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+But as the washerwoman began lamenting and fearing that she would not be able
+to put all the things to soak that day, she consented to give her the dirty
+clothes at once. They went to fetch the bundles in the left hand room where
+Etienne slept, and returned with enormous armfuls which they piled up on the
+floor at the back of the shop. The sorting lasted a good half hour. Gervaise
+made heaps all round her, throwing the shirts in one, the chemises in another,
+the handkerchiefs, the socks, the dish-cloths in others. Whenever she came
+across anything belonging to a new customer, she marked it with a cross in red
+cotton thread so as to know it again. And from all this dirty linen which they
+were throwing about there issued an offensive odor in the warm atmosphere.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Oh! La, la. What a stench!&rdquo; said Clemence, holding her nose.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Of course there is! If it were clean they wouldn&rsquo;t send it to
+us,&rdquo; quietly explained Gervaise. &ldquo;It smells as one would expect it
+to, that&rsquo;s all! We said fourteen chemises, didn&rsquo;t we, Madame
+Bijard? Fifteen, sixteen, seventeen&mdash;&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+And she continued counting aloud. Used to this kind of thing she evinced no
+disgust. She thrust her bare pink arms deep into the piles of laundry: shirts
+yellow with grime, towels stiff from dirty dish water, socks threadbare and
+eaten away by sweat. The strong odor which slapped her in the face as she
+sorted the piles of clothes made her feel drowsy. She seemed to be intoxicating
+herself with this stench of humanity as she sat on the edge of a stool, bending
+far over, smiling vaguely, her eyes slightly misty. It was as if her laziness
+was started by a kind of smothering caused by the dirty clothes which poisoned
+the air in the shop. Just as she was shaking out a child&rsquo;s dirty diaper,
+Coupeau came in.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;By Jove!&rdquo; he stuttered, &ldquo;what a sun! It shines full on your
+head!&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The zinc-worker caught hold of the ironing-table to save himself from falling.
+It was the first time he had been so drunk. Until then he had sometimes come
+home slightly tipsy, but nothing more. This time, however, he had a black eye,
+just a friendly slap he had run up against in a playful moment. His curly hair,
+already streaked with grey, must have dusted a corner in some low wineshop, for
+a cobweb was hanging to one of his locks over the back of his neck. He was
+still as attractive as ever, though his features were rather drawn and aged,
+and his under jaw projected more; but he was always lively, as he would
+sometimes say, with a complexion to be envied by a duchess.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;I&rsquo;ll just explain it to you,&rdquo; he resumed, addressing
+Gervaise.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;It was Celery-Root, you know him, the bloke with a wooden leg. Well, as
+he was going back to his native place, he wanted to treat us. Oh! We were all
+right, if it hadn&rsquo;t been for that devil of a sun. In the street everybody
+looks shaky. Really, all the world&rsquo;s drunk!&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+And as tall Clemence laughed at his thinking that the people in the street were
+drunk, he was himself seized with an intense fit of gaiety which almost
+strangled him.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Look at them! The blessed tipplers! Aren&rsquo;t they funny?&rdquo; he
+cried. &ldquo;But it&rsquo;s not their fault. It&rsquo;s the sun that&rsquo;s
+causing it.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+All the shop laughed, even Madame Putois, who did not like drunkards. That
+squint-eyed Augustine was cackling like a hen, suffocating with her mouth wide
+open. Gervaise, however, suspected Coupeau of not having come straight home,
+but of having passed an hour with the Lorilleuxs who were always filling his
+head with unpleasant ideas. When he swore he had not been near them she laughed
+also, full of indulgence and not even reproaching him with having wasted
+another day.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;<i>Mon Dieu!</i> What nonsense he does talk,&rdquo; she murmured.
+&ldquo;How does he manage to say such stupid things?&rdquo; Then in a maternal
+tone of voice she added, &ldquo;Now go to bed, won&rsquo;t you? You see
+we&rsquo;re busy; you&rsquo;re in our way. That makes thirty-two handkerchiefs,
+Madame Bijard; and two more, thirty-four.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+But Coupeau was not sleepy. He stood there wagging his body from side to side
+like the pendulum of a clock and chuckling in an obstinate and teasing manner.
+Gervaise, wanting to finish with Madame Bijard, called to Clemence to count the
+laundry while she made the list. Tall Clemence made a dirty remark about every
+item that she touched. She commented on the customers&rsquo; misfortunes and
+their bedroom adventures. She had a wash-house joke for every rip or stain that
+passed through her hands. Augustine pretended that she didn&rsquo;t understand,
+but her ears were wide open. Madame Putois compressed her lips, thinking it a
+disgrace to say such things in front of Coupeau. It&rsquo;s not a man&rsquo;s
+business to have anything to do with dirty linen. It&rsquo;s just not done
+among decent people.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Gervaise, serious and her mind fully occupied with what she was about, did not
+seem to notice. As she wrote she gave a glance to each article as it passed
+before her, so as to recognize it; and she never made a mistake; she guessed
+the owner&rsquo;s name just by the look or the color. Those napkins belonged to
+the Goujets, that was evident; they had not been used to wipe out frying-pans.
+That pillow-case certainly came from the Boches on account of the pomatum with
+which Madame Boche always smeared her things. There was no need to put your
+nose close to the flannel vests of Monsieur Madinier; his skin was so oily that
+it clogged up his woolens.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+She knew many peculiarities, the cleanliness of some, the ragged underclothes
+of neighborhood ladies who appeared on the streets in silk dresses; how many
+items each family soiled weekly; the way some people&rsquo;s garments were
+always torn at the same spot. Oh, she had many tales to tell. For instance, the
+chemises of Mademoiselle Remanjou provided material for endless comments: they
+wore out at the top first because the old maid had bony, sharp shoulders; and
+they were never really dirty, proving that you dry up by her age, like a stick
+of wood out of which it&rsquo;s hard to squeeze a drop of anything. It was thus
+that at every sorting of the dirty linen in the shop they undressed the whole
+neighborhood of the Goutte-d&rsquo;Or.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Oh, here&rsquo;s something luscious!&rdquo; cried Clemence, opening
+another bundle.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Gervaise, suddenly seized with a great repugnance, drew back.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Madame Gaudron&rsquo;s bundle?&rdquo; said she. &ldquo;I&rsquo;ll no
+longer wash for her, I&rsquo;ll find some excuse. No, I&rsquo;m not more
+particular than another. I&rsquo;ve handled some most disgusting linen in my
+time; but really, that lot I can&rsquo;t stomach. What can the woman do to get
+her things into such a state?&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+And she requested Clemence to look sharp. But the girl continued her remarks,
+thrusting the clothes sullenly about her, with complaints on the soiled caps
+she waved like triumphal banners of filth. Meanwhile the heaps around Gervaise
+had grown higher. Still seated on the edge of the stool, she was now
+disappearing between the petticoats and chemises. In front of her were the
+sheets, the table cloths, a veritable mass of dirtiness.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+She seemed even rosier and more languid than usual within this spreading sea of
+soiled laundry. She had regained her composure, forgetting Madame
+Gaudron&rsquo;s laundry, stirring the various piles of clothing to make sure
+there had been no mistake in sorting. Squint-eyed Augustine had just stuffed
+the stove so full of coke that its cast-iron sides were bright red. The sun was
+shining obliquely on the window; the shop was in a blaze. Then, Coupeau, whom
+the great heat intoxicated all the more, was seized with a sudden fit of
+tenderness. He advanced towards Gervaise with open arms and deeply moved.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;You&rsquo;re a good wife,&rdquo; he stammered. &ldquo;I must kiss
+you.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+But he caught his foot in the garments which barred the way and nearly fell.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;What a nuisance you are!&rdquo; said Gervaise without getting angry.
+&ldquo;Keep still, we&rsquo;re nearly done now.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+No, he wanted to kiss her. He must do so because he loved her so much. Whilst
+he stuttered he tried to get round the heap of petticoats and stumbled against
+the pile of chemises; then as he obstinately persisted his feet caught together
+and he fell flat, his nose in the midst of the dish-cloths. Gervaise, beginning
+to lose her temper pushed him, saying that he was mixing all the things up. But
+Clemence and even Madame Putois maintained that she was wrong. It was very nice
+of him after all. He wanted to kiss her. She might very well let herself be
+kissed.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;You&rsquo;re lucky, you are, Madame Coupeau,&rdquo; said Madame Bijard,
+whose drunkard of a husband, a locksmith, was nearly beating her to death each
+evening when he came in. &ldquo;If my old man was like that when he&rsquo;s had
+a drop, it would be a real pleasure!&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Gervaise had calmed down and was already regretting her hastiness. She helped
+Coupeau up on his legs again. Then she offered her cheek with a smile. But the
+zinc-worker, without caring a button for the other people being present, seized
+her bosom.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;It&rsquo;s not for the sake of saying so,&rdquo; he murmured; &ldquo;but
+your dirty linen stinks tremendously! Still, I love you all the same, you
+know.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Leave off, you&rsquo;re tickling me,&rdquo; cried she, laughing the
+louder. &ldquo;What a great silly you are! How can you be so absurd?&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+He had caught hold of her and would not let her go. She gradually abandoned
+herself to him, dizzy from the slight faintness caused by the heap of clothes
+and not minding Coupeau&rsquo;s foul-smelling breath. The long kiss they
+exchanged on each other&rsquo;s mouths in the midst of the filth of the
+laundress&rsquo;s trade was perhaps the first tumble in the slow downfall of
+their life together.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Madame Bijard had meanwhile been tying the laundry up into bundles and talking
+about her daughter, Eulalie, who at two was as smart as a grown woman. She
+could be left by herself; she never cried or played with matches. Finally
+Madame Bijard took the laundry away a bundle at a time, her face splotched with
+purple and her tall form bent under the weight.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;This heat is becoming unbearable, we&rsquo;re roasting,&rdquo; said
+Gervaise, wiping her face before returning to Madame Boche&rsquo;s cap.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+They talked of boxing Augustine&rsquo;s ears when they saw that the stove was
+red-hot. The irons, also, were getting in the same condition. She must have the
+very devil in her body! One could not turn one&rsquo;s back a moment without
+her being up to some of her tricks. Now they would have to wait a quarter of an
+hour before they would be able to use their irons. Gervaise covered the fire
+with two shovelfuls of cinders. Then she thought to hang some sheets on the
+brass wires near the ceiling to serve as curtains to keep out the sunlight.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Things were now better in the shop. The temperature was still high, but you
+could imagine it was cooler. Footsteps could still be heard outside but you
+were free to make yourself comfortable. Clemence removed her camisole again.
+Coupeau still refused to go to bed, so they allowed him to stay, but he had to
+promise to be quiet in a corner, for they were very busy.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Whatever has that vermin done with my little iron?&rdquo; murmured
+Gervaise, speaking of Augustine.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+They were for ever seeking the little iron, which they found in the most
+out-of-the-way places, where the apprentice, so they said, hid it out of spite.
+Gervaise could now finish Madame Boche&rsquo;s cap. First she roughly smoothed
+the lace, spreading it out with her hand, and then she straightened it up by
+light strokes of the iron. It had a very fancy border consisting of narrow
+puffs alternating with insertions of embroidery. She was working on it silently
+and conscientiously, ironing the puffs and insertions.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Silence prevailed for a time. Nothing was to be heard except the soft thud of
+irons on the ironing pad. On both sides of the huge rectangular table Gervaise,
+her two employees, and the apprentice were bending over, slaving at their tasks
+with rounded shoulders, their arms moving incessantly. Each had a flat brick
+blackened by hot irons near her. A soup plate filled with clean water was on
+the middle of the table with a moistening rag and a small brush soaking in it.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+A bouquet of large white lilies bloomed in what had once been a brandied cherry
+jar. Its cluster of snowy flowers suggested a corner of a royal garden. Madame
+Putois had begun the basket that Gervaise had brought to her filled with
+towels, wrappers, cuffs and underdrawers. Augustine was dawdling with the
+stockings and washcloths, gazing into the air, seemingly fascinated by a large
+fly that was buzzing around. Clemence had done thirty-four men&rsquo;s shirts
+so far that day.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Always wine, never spirits!&rdquo; suddenly said the zinc-worker, who
+felt the necessity of making this declaration. &ldquo;Spirits make me drunk,
+I&rsquo;ll have none of them.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Clemence took an iron from the stove with her leather holder in which a piece
+of sheet iron was inserted, and held it up to her cheek to see how hot it was.
+She rubbed it on her brick, wiped it on a piece of rag hanging from her
+waist-band and started on her thirty-fifth shirt, first of all ironing the
+shoulders and the sleeves.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Bah! Monsieur Coupeau,&rdquo; said she after a minute or two, &ldquo;a
+little glass of brandy isn&rsquo;t bad. It sets me going. Besides, the sooner
+you&rsquo;re merry, the jollier it is. Oh! I don&rsquo;t make any mistake; I
+know that I shan&rsquo;t make old bones.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;What a nuisance you are with your funeral ideas!&rdquo; interrupted
+Madame Putois who did not like hearing people talk of anything sad.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Coupeau had arisen and was becoming angry thinking that he had been accused of
+drinking brandy. He swore on his own head and on the heads of his wife and
+child that there was not a drop of brandy in his veins. And he went up to
+Clemence and blew in her face so that she might smell his breath. Then he began
+to giggle because her bare shoulders were right under his nose. He thought
+maybe he could see more. Clemence, having folded over the back of the shirt and
+ironed it on both sides, was now working on the cuffs and collar. However, as
+he was shoving against her, he caused her to make a wrinkle, obliging her to
+reach for the brush soaking in the soup plate to smooth it out.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Madame,&rdquo; said she, &ldquo;do make him leave off bothering
+me.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Leave her alone; it&rsquo;s stupid of you to go on like that,&rdquo;
+quietly observed Gervaise. &ldquo;We&rsquo;re in a hurry, do you hear?&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+They were in a hurry, well! What? It was not his fault. He was doing no harm.
+He was not touching, he was only looking. Was it no longer allowed to look at
+the beautiful things that God had made? All the same, she had precious fine
+arms, that artful Clemence! She might exhibit herself for two sous and nobody
+would have to regret his money. The girl allowed him to go on, laughing at
+these coarse compliments of a drunken man. And she soon commenced joking with
+him. He chuffed her about the shirts. So she was always doing shirts? Why yes,
+she practically lived in them. <i>Mon Dieu!</i> She knew them pretty well.
+Hundreds and hundreds of them had passed through her hands. Just about every
+man in the neighborhood was wearing her handiwork on his body. Her shoulders
+were shaking with laughter through all this, but she managed to continue
+ironing.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;That&rsquo;s the banter!&rdquo; said she, laughing harder than ever.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+That squint-eyed Augustine almost burst, the joke seemed to her so funny. The
+others bullied her. There was a brat for you who laughed at words she ought not
+to understand! Clemence handed her her iron; the apprentice finished up the
+irons on the stockings and the dish-cloths when they were not hot enough for
+the starched things. But she took hold of this one so clumsily that she made
+herself a cuff in the form of a long burn on the wrist. And she sobbed and
+accused Clemence of having burnt her on purpose. The latter who had gone to
+fetch a very hot iron for the shirt-front consoled her at once by threatening
+to iron her two ears if she did not leave off. Then she placed a piece of
+flannel under the front and slowly passed the iron over it giving the starch
+time to show up and dry. The shirt-front became as stiff and as shiny as
+cardboard.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;By golly!&rdquo; swore Coupeau, who was treading behind her with the
+obstinacy of a drunkard.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+He raised himself up with a shrill laugh that resembled a pulley in want of
+grease. Clemence, leaning heavily over the ironing-table, her wrists bent in,
+her elbows sticking out and wide apart was bending her neck in a last effort;
+and all her muscles swelled, her shoulders rose with the slow play of the
+muscles beating beneath the soft skin, her breasts heaved, wet with
+perspiration in the rosy shadow of the half open chemise. Then Coupeau thrust
+out his hands, trying to touch her bare flesh.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Madame! Madame!&rdquo; cried Clemence, &ldquo;do make him leave off! I
+shall go away if it continues. I won&rsquo;t be intimated.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Gervaise glanced over just as her husband&rsquo;s hands began to explore inside
+the chemise.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Really, Coupeau, you&rsquo;re too foolish,&rdquo; said she, with a vexed
+air, as though she were scolding a child who persisted in eating his jam
+without bread. &ldquo;You must go to bed.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Yes, go to bed, Monsieur Coupeau; it will be far better,&rdquo;
+exclaimed Madame Putois.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Ah! Well,&rdquo; stuttered he, without ceasing to chuckle,
+&ldquo;you&rsquo;re all precious particular! So one mustn&rsquo;t amuse oneself
+now? Women, I know how to handle them; I&rsquo;ll only kiss them, no more. One
+admires a lady, you know, and wants to show it. And, besides, when one displays
+one&rsquo;s goods, it&rsquo;s that one may make one&rsquo;s choice, isn&rsquo;t
+it? Why does the tall blonde show everything she&rsquo;s got? It&rsquo;s not
+decent.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+And turning towards Clemence, he added: &ldquo;You know, my lovely,
+you&rsquo;re wrong to be to very insolent. If it&rsquo;s because there are
+others here&mdash;&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+But he was unable to continue. Gervaise very calmly seized hold of him with one
+hand, and placed the other on his mouth. He struggled, just by way of a joke,
+whilst she pushed him to the back of the shop, towards the bedroom. He got his
+mouth free and said that he was willing to go to bed, but that the tall blonde
+must come and warm his feet.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Then Gervaise could be heard taking off his shoes. She removed his clothes too,
+bullying him in a motherly way. He burst out laughing after she had removed his
+trousers and kicked about, pretending that she was tickling him. At last she
+tucked him in carefully like a child. Was he comfortable now? But he did not
+answer; he called to Clemence:
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;I say, my lovely, I&rsquo;m here, and waiting for you!&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+When Gervaise went back into the shop, the squint-eyed Augustine was being
+properly chastised by Clemence because of a dirty iron that Madame Putois had
+used and which had caused her to soil a camisole. Clemence, in defending
+herself for not having cleaned her iron, blamed Augustine, swearing that it
+wasn&rsquo;t hers, in spite of the spot of burned starch still clinging to the
+bottom. The apprentice, outraged at the injustice, openly spat on the front of
+Clemence&rsquo;s dress, earning a slap for her boldness. Now, as Augustine went
+about cleaning the iron, she saved up her spit and each time she passed
+Clemence spat on her back and laughed to herself.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Gervaise continued with the lace of Madame Boche&rsquo;s cap. In the sudden
+calm which ensued, one could hear Coupeau&rsquo;s husky voice issuing from the
+depths of the bedroom. He was still jolly, and was laughing to himself as he
+uttered bits of phrases.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;How stupid she is, my wife! How stupid of her to put me to bed! Really,
+it&rsquo;s too absurd, in the middle of the day, when one isn&rsquo;t
+sleepy.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+But, all on a sudden, he snored. Then Gervaise gave a sigh of relief, happy in
+knowing that he was at length quiet, and sleeping off his intoxication on two
+good mattresses. And she spoke out in the silence, in a slow and continuous
+voice, without taking her eyes off her work.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;You see, he hasn&rsquo;t his reason, one can&rsquo;t be angry. Were I to
+be harsh with him, it would be of no use. I prefer to agree with him and get
+him to bed; then, at least, it&rsquo;s over at once and I&rsquo;m quiet.
+Besides, he isn&rsquo;t ill-natured, he loves me very much. You could see that
+just a moment ago when he was desperate to give me a kiss. That&rsquo;s quite
+nice of him. There are plenty of men, you know, who after drinking a bit
+don&rsquo;t come straight home but stay out chasing women. Oh, he may fool
+around with the women in the shop, but it doesn&rsquo;t lead to anything.
+Clemence, you mustn&rsquo;t feel insulted. You know how it is when a
+man&rsquo;s had too much to drink. He could do anything and not even remember
+it.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+She spoke composedly, not at all angry, being quite used to Coupeau&rsquo;s
+sprees and not holding them against him. A silence settled down for a while
+when she stopped talking. There was a lot of work to get done. They figured
+they would have to keep at it until eleven, working as fast as they could. Now
+that they were undisturbed, all of them were pounding away. Bare arms were
+moving back and forth, showing glimpses of pink among the whiteness of the
+laundry.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+More coke had been put into the stove and the sunlight slanted in between the
+sheets onto the stove. You could see the heat rising up through the rays of the
+sun. It became so stifling that Augustine ran out of spit and was forced to
+lick her lips. The room smelled of the heat and of the working women. The white
+lilies in the jar were beginning to fade, yet they still exuded a pure and
+strong perfume. Coupeau&rsquo;s heavy snores were heard like the regular
+ticking of a huge clock, setting the tempo for the heavy labor in the shop.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+On the morrow of his carouses, the zinc-worker always had a headache, a
+splitting headache which kept him all day with his hair uncombed, his breath
+offensive, and his mouth all swollen and askew. He got up late on those days,
+not shaking the fleas off till about eight o&rsquo;clock; and he would hang
+about the shop, unable to make up his mind to start off to his work. It was
+another day lost. In the morning he would complain that his legs bent like
+pieces of thread, and would call himself a great fool to guzzle to such an
+extent, as it broke one&rsquo;s constitution. Then, too, there were a lot of
+lazy bums who wouldn&rsquo;t let you go and you&rsquo;d get to drinking more in
+spite of yourself. No, no, no more for him.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+After lunch he would always begin to perk up and deny that he had been really
+drunk the night before. Maybe just a bit lit up. He was rock solid and able to
+drink anything he wanted without even blinking an eye.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+When he had thoroughly badgered the workwomen, Gervaise would give him twenty
+sous to clear out. And off he would go to buy his tobacco at the &ldquo;Little
+Civet,&rdquo; in the Rue des Poissonniers, where he generally took a plum in
+brandy whenever he met a friend. Then, he spent the rest of the twenty sous at
+old Francois&rsquo;s, at the corner of the Rue de la Goutte-d&rsquo;Or, where
+there was a famous wine, quite young, which tickled your gullet. This was an
+old-fashioned place with a low ceiling. There was a smoky room to one side
+where soup was served. He would stay there until evening drinking because there
+was an understanding that he didn&rsquo;t have to pay right away and they would
+never send the bill to his wife. Besides he was a jolly fellow, who would never
+do the least harm&mdash;a chap who loved a spree sure enough, and who colored
+his nose in his turn but in a nice manner, full of contempt for those pigs of
+men who have succumbed to alcohol, and whom one never sees sober! He always
+went home as gay and as gallant as a lark.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Has your lover been?&rdquo; he would sometimes ask Gervaise by way of
+teasing her. &ldquo;One never sees him now; I must go and rout him out.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The lover was Goujet. He avoided, in fact, calling too often for fear of being
+in the way, and also of causing people to talk. Yet he frequently found a
+pretext, such as bringing the washing; and he would pass no end of time on the
+pavement in front of the shop. There was a corner right at the back in which he
+liked to sit, without moving for hours, and smoke his short pipe. Once every
+ten days, in the evening after his dinner, he would venture there and take up
+his favorite position. And he was no talker, his mouth almost seemed sewn up,
+as he sat with his eyes fixed on Gervaise, and only removed his pipe to laugh
+at everything she said. When they were working late on a Saturday he would stay
+on, and appeared to amuse himself more than if he had gone to a theatre.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Sometimes the women stayed in the shop ironing until three in the morning. A
+lamp hung from the ceiling and spread a brilliant light making the linen look
+like fresh snow. The apprentice would put up the shop shutters, but since these
+July nights were scorching hot, the door would be left open. The later the hour
+the more casual the women became with their clothes while trying to be
+comfortable. The lamplight flecked their rosy skin with gold specks, especially
+Gervaise who was so pleasantly rounded.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+On these nights Goujet would be overcome by the heat from the stove and the
+odor of linen steaming under the hot irons. He would drift into a sort of
+giddiness, his thinking slowed and his eyes obsessed by these hurrying women as
+their naked arms moved back and forth, working far into the night to have the
+neighborhood&rsquo;s best clothes ready for Sunday.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Everything around the laundry was slumbering, settled into sleep for the night.
+Midnight rang, then one o&rsquo;clock, then two o&rsquo;clock. There were no
+vehicles or pedestrians. In the dark and deserted street, only their shop door
+let out any light. Once in a while, footsteps would be heard and a man would
+pass the shop. As he crossed the path of light he would stretch his neck to
+look in, startled by the sound of the thudding irons, and carry with him the
+quick glimpse of bare-shouldered laundresses immersed in a rosy mist.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Goujet, seeing that Gervaise did not know what to do with Etienne, and wishing
+to deliver him from Coupeau&rsquo;s kicks, had engaged him to go and blow the
+bellows at the factory where he worked. The profession of bolt-maker, if not
+one to be proud of on account of the dirt of the forge and of the monotony of
+constantly hammering on pieces of iron of a similar kind, was nevertheless a
+well paid one, at which ten and even twelve francs a day could be earned. The
+youngster, who was then twelve years old, would soon be able to go in for it,
+if the calling was to his liking. And Etienne had thus become another link
+between the laundress and the blacksmith. The latter would bring the child home
+and speak of his good conduct. Everyone laughingly said that Goujet was smitten
+with Gervaise. She knew it, and blushed like a young girl, the flush of modesty
+coloring her cheeks with the bright tints of an apple. The poor fellow, he was
+never any trouble! He never made a bold gesture or an indelicate remark. You
+didn&rsquo;t find many men like him. Gervaise didn&rsquo;t want to admit it,
+but she derived a great deal of pleasure from being adored like this. Whenever
+a problem arose she thought immediately of the blacksmith and was consoled.
+There was never any awkward tension when they were alone together. They just
+looked at each other and smiled happily with no need to talk. It was a very
+sensible kind of affection.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Towards the end of the summer, Nana quite upset the household. She was six
+years old and promised to be a thorough good-for-nothing. So as not to have her
+always under her feet her mother took her every morning to a little school in
+the Rue Polonceau kept by Mademoiselle Josse. She fastened her
+playfellows&rsquo; dresses together behind, she filled the
+school-mistress&rsquo;s snuff-box with ashes, and invented other tricks much
+less decent which could not be mentioned. Twice Mademoiselle Josse expelled her
+and then took her back again so as not to lose the six francs a month. Directly
+lessons were over Nana avenged herself for having been kept in by making an
+infernal noise under the porch and in the courtyard where the ironers, whose
+ears could not stand the racket, sent her to play. There she would meet
+Pauline, the Boches&rsquo; daughter, and Victor, the son of Gervaise&rsquo;s
+old employer&mdash;a big booby of ten who delighted in playing with very little
+girls. Madame Fauconnier who had not quarreled with the Coupeaus would herself
+send her son. In the house, too, there was an extraordinary swarm of brats,
+flights of children who rolled down the four staircases at all hours of the day
+and alighted on the pavement of the courtyard like troops of noisy pillaging
+sparrows. Madame Gaudron was responsible for nine of them, all with uncombed
+hair, runny noses, hand-me-down clothes, saggy stockings and ripped jackets.
+Another woman on the sixth floor had seven of them. This hoard that only got
+their faces washed when it rained were in all shapes and sizes, fat, thin, big
+and barely out of the cradle.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Nana reigned supreme over this host of urchins; she ordered about girls twice
+her own size, and only deigned to relinquish a little of her power in favor of
+Pauline and Victor, intimate confidants who enforced her commands. This
+precious chit was for ever wanting to play at being mamma, undressing the
+smallest ones to dress them again, insisting on examining the others all over,
+messing them about and exercising the capricious despotism of a grown-up person
+with a vicious disposition. Under her leadership they got up tricks for which
+they should have been well spanked. The troop paddled in the colored water from
+the dyer&rsquo;s and emerged from it with legs stained blue or red as high as
+the knees; then off it flew to the locksmith&rsquo;s where it purloined nails
+and filings and started off again to alight in the midst of the
+carpenter&rsquo;s shavings, enormous heaps of shavings, which delighted it
+immensely and in which it rolled head over heels exposing their behinds.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The courtyard was her kingdom. It echoed with the clatter of little shoes as
+they stampeded back and forth with piercing cries. On some days the courtyard
+was too small for them and the troop would dash down into the cellar, race up a
+staircase, run along a corridor, then dash up another staircase and follow
+another corridor for hours. They never got tired of their yelling and
+clambering.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Aren&rsquo;t they abominable, those little toads?&rdquo; cried Madame
+Boche. &ldquo;Really, people can have but very little to do to have time to get
+so many brats. And yet they complain of having no bread.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Boche said that children pushed up out of poverty like mushrooms out of manure.
+All day long his wife was screaming at them and chasing them with her broom.
+Finally she had to lock the door of the cellar when she learned from Pauline
+that Nana was playing doctor down there in the dark, viciously finding pleasure
+in applying remedies to the others by beating them with sticks.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Well, one afternoon there was a frightful scene. It was bound to have come
+sooner or later. Nana had thought of a very funny little game. She had stolen
+one of Madame Boche&rsquo;s wooden shoes from outside the concierge&rsquo;s
+room. She tied a string to it and began dragging it about like a cart. Victor
+on his side had had the idea to fill it with potato parings. Then a procession
+was formed. Nana came first dragging the wooden shoe. Pauline and Victor walked
+on her right and left. Then the entire crowd of urchins followed in order, the
+big ones first, the little ones next, jostling one another; a baby in long
+skirts about as tall as a boot with an old tattered bonnet cocked on one side
+of its head, brought up the rear. And the procession chanted something sad with
+plenty of ohs! and ahs! Nana had said that they were going to play at a
+funeral; the potato parings represented the body. When they had gone the round
+of the courtyard, they recommenced. They thought it immensely amusing.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;What can they be up to?&rdquo; murmured Madame Boche, who emerged from
+her room to see, ever mistrustful and on the alert.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+And when she understood: &ldquo;But it&rsquo;s my shoe!&rdquo; cried she
+furiously. &ldquo;Ah, the rogues!&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+She distributed some smacks, clouted Nana on both cheeks and administered a
+kick to Pauline, that great goose who allowed the others to steal her
+mother&rsquo;s shoe. It so happened that Gervaise was filling a bucket at the
+tap. When she beheld Nana, her nose bleeding and choking with sobs, she almost
+sprang at the concierge&rsquo;s chignon. It was not right to hit a child as
+though it were an ox. One could have no heart, one must be the lowest of the
+low if one did so. Madame Boche naturally replied in a similar strain. When one
+had a beast of a girl like that one should keep her locked up. At length Boche
+himself appeared in the doorway to call his wife to come in and not to enter
+into so many explanations with a filthy thing like her. There was a regular
+quarrel.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+As a matter of fact things had not gone on very pleasantly between the Boches
+and the Coupeaus for a month past. Gervaise, who was of a very generous nature,
+was continually bestowing wine, broth, oranges and slices of cake on the
+Boches. One night she had taken the remains of an endive and beetroot salad to
+the concierge&rsquo;s room, knowing that the latter would have done anything
+for such a treat. But on the morrow she became quite pale with rage on hearing
+Mademoiselle Remanjou relate how Madame Boche had thrown the salad away in the
+presence of several persons with an air of disgust and under the pretext that
+she, thank goodness, was not yet reduced to feeding on things which others had
+messed about. From that time Gervaise took no more presents to the
+Boches&mdash;nothing. Now the Boches seemed to think that Gervaise was stealing
+something which was rightfully theirs. Gervaise saw that she had made a
+mistake. If she hadn&rsquo;t catered to them so much in the beginning, they
+wouldn&rsquo;t have gotten into the habit of expecting it and might have
+remained on good terms with her.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Now the concierge began to spread slander about Gervaise. There was a great
+fuss with the landlord, Monsieur Marescot, at the October rental period,
+because Gervaise was a day late with the rent. Madame Boche accused her of
+eating up all her money in fancy dishes. Monsieur Marescot charged into the
+laundry demanding to be paid at once. He didn&rsquo;t even bother to remove his
+hat. The money was ready and was paid to him immediately. The Boches had now
+made up with the Lorilleuxs who now came and did their guzzling in the
+concierge&rsquo;s lodge. They assured each other that they never would have
+fallen out if it hadn&rsquo;t been for Clump-clump. She was enough to set
+mountains to fighting. Ah! the Boches knew her well now, they could understand
+how much the Lorilleuxs must suffer. And whenever she passed beneath the
+doorway they all affected to sneer at her.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+One day, Gervaise went up to see the Lorilleuxs in spite of this. It was with
+respect to mother Coupeau who was then sixty-seven years old. Mother
+Coupeau&rsquo;s eyesight was almost completely gone. Her legs too were no
+longer what they used to be. She had been obliged to give up her last cleaning
+job and now threatened to die of hunger if assistance were not forthcoming.
+Gervaise thought it shameful that a woman of her age, having three children
+should be thus abandoned by heaven and earth. And as Coupeau refused to speak
+to the Lorilleuxs on the subject saying that she, Gervaise, could very well go
+and do so, the latter went up in a fit of indignation with which her heart was
+almost bursting.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+When she reached their door she entered without knocking. Nothing had been
+changed since the night when the Lorilleuxs, at their first meeting had
+received her so ungraciously. The same strip of faded woolen stuff separated
+the room from the workshop, a lodging like a gun barrel, and which looked as
+though it had been built for an eel. Right at the back Lorilleux, leaning over
+his bench, was squeezing together one by one the links of a piece of chain,
+whilst Madame Lorilleux, standing in front of the vise was passing a gold wire
+through the draw-plate. In the broad daylight the little forge had a rosy
+reflection.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Yes, it&rsquo;s I!&rdquo; said Gervaise. &ldquo;I daresay you&rsquo;re
+surprised to see me as we&rsquo;re at daggers drawn. But I&rsquo;ve come
+neither for you nor myself you may be quite sure. It&rsquo;s for mother Coupeau
+that I&rsquo;ve come. Yes, I have come to see if we&rsquo;re going to let her
+beg her bread from the charity of others.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Ah, well, that&rsquo;s a fine way to burst in upon one!&rdquo; murmured
+Madame Lorilleux. &ldquo;One must have a rare cheek.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+And she turned her back and resumed drawing her gold wire, affecting to ignore
+her sister-in-law&rsquo;s presence. But Lorilleux raised his pale face and
+cried:
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;What&rsquo;s that you say?&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Then, as he had heard perfectly well, he continued:
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;More back-bitings, eh? She&rsquo;s nice, mother Coupeau, to go and cry
+starvation everywhere! Yet only the day before yesterday she dined here. We do
+what we can. We haven&rsquo;t got all the gold of Peru. Only if she goes about
+gossiping with others she had better stay with them, for we don&rsquo;t like
+spies.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+He took up the piece of chain and turned his back also, adding as though with
+regret:
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;When everyone gives five francs a month, we&rsquo;ll give five
+francs.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Gervaise had calmed down and felt quite chilled by the wooden looking faces of
+the Lorilleux. She had never once set foot in their rooms without experiencing
+a certain uneasiness. With her eyes fixed on the floor, staring at the holes of
+the wooden grating through which the waste gold fell she now explained herself
+in a reasonable manner. Mother Coupeau had three children; if each one gave
+five francs it would only make fifteen francs, and really that was not enough,
+one could not live on it; they must at least triple the sum. But Lorilleux
+cried out. Where did she think he could steal fifteen francs a month? It was
+quite amusing, people thought he was rich simply because he had gold in his
+place. He began then to criticize mother Coupeau: she had to have her morning
+coffee, she took a sip of brandy now and then, she was as demanding as if she
+were rich. <i>Mon Dieu!</i> Sure, everyone liked the good things of life. But
+if you&rsquo;ve never saved a sou, you had to do what other folks did and do
+without. Besides, mother Coupeau wasn&rsquo;t too old to work. She could see
+well enough when she was trying to pick a choice morsel from the platter. She
+was just an old spendthrift trying to get others to provide her with comforts.
+Even had he had the means, he would have considered it wrong to support any one
+in idleness.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Gervaise remained conciliatory, and peaceably argued against all this bad
+reasoning. She tried to soften the Lorilleuxs. But the husband ended by no
+longer answering her. The wife was now at the forge scouring a piece of chain
+in the little, long-handled brass saucepan full of lye-water. She still
+affectedly turned her back, as though a hundred leagues away. And Gervaise
+continued speaking, watching them pretending to be absorbed in their labor in
+the midst of the black dust of the workshop, their bodies distorted, their
+clothes patched and greasy, both become stupidly hardened like old tools in the
+pursuit of their narrow mechanical task. Then suddenly anger again got the
+better of her and she exclaimed:
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Very well, I&rsquo;d rather it was so; keep your money! I&rsquo;ll give
+mother Coupeau a home, do you hear? I picked up a cat the other evening, so I
+can at least do the same for your mother. And she shall be in want of nothing;
+she shall have her coffee and her drop of brandy! Good heavens! what a vile
+family!&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+At these words Madame Lorilleux turned round. She brandished the saucepan as
+though she was about to throw the lye-water in her sister-in-law&rsquo;s face.
+She stammered with rage:
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Be off, or I shall do you an injury! And don&rsquo;t count on the five
+francs because I won&rsquo;t give a radish! No, not a radish! Ah well, yes,
+five francs! Mother would be your servant and you would enjoy yourself with my
+five francs! If she goes to live with you, tell her this, she may croak, I
+won&rsquo;t even send her a glass of water. Now off you go! Clear out!&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;What a monster of a woman!&rdquo; said Gervaise violently slamming the
+door.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+On the morrow she brought mother Coupeau to live with her, putting her bed in
+the inner room where Nana slept. The moving did not take long, for all the
+furniture mother Coupeau had was her bed, an ancient walnut wardrobe which was
+put in the dirty-clothes room, a table, and two chairs. They sold the table and
+had the chairs recaned. From the very first the old lady took over the
+sweeping. She washed the dishes and made herself useful, happy to have settled
+her problem.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The Lorilleux were furious enough to explode, especially since Madame Lerat was
+now back on good terms with the Coupeaus. One day the two sisters, the
+flower-maker and the chainmaker came to blows about Gervaise because Madame
+Lerat dared to express approval of the way she was taking care of their mother.
+When she noticed how this upset the other, she went on to remark that Gervaise
+had magnificent eyes, eyes warm enough to set paper on fire. The two of them
+commenced slapping each other and swore they never would see each other again.
+Nowadays Madame Lerat often spent her evenings in the shop, laughing to herself
+at Clemence&rsquo;s spicy remarks.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Three years passed by. There were frequent quarrels and reconciliations.
+Gervaise did not care a straw for the Lorilleux, the Boches and all the others
+who were not of her way of thinking. If they did not like it, they could forget
+it. She earned what she wished, that was her principal concern. The people of
+the neighborhood had ended by greatly esteeming her, for one did not find many
+customers so kind as she was, paying punctually, never caviling or higgling.
+She bought her bread of Madame Coudeloup, in the Rue des Poissonniers; her meat
+of stout Charles, a butcher in the Rue Polonceau; her groceries at
+Lehongre&rsquo;s, in the Rue de la Goutte-d&rsquo;Or, almost opposite her own
+shop. Francois, the wine merchant at the corner of the street, supplied her
+with wine in baskets of fifty bottles. Her neighbor Vigouroux, whose
+wife&rsquo;s hips must have been black and blue, the men pinched her so much,
+sold coke to her at the same price as the gas company. And, in all truth, her
+tradespeople served her faithfully, knowing that there was everything to gain
+by treating her well.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Besides, whenever she went out around the neighborhood, she was greeted
+everywhere. She felt quite at home. Sometimes she put off doing a laundry job
+just to enjoy being outdoors among her good friends. On days when she was too
+rushed to do her own cooking and had to go out to buy something already cooked,
+she would stop to gossip with her arms full of bowls. The neighbor she
+respected the most was still the watchmaker. Often she would cross the street
+to greet him in his tiny cupboard of a shop, taking pleasure in the gaiety of
+the little cuckoo clocks with their pendulums ticking away the hours in chorus.
+</p>
+
+</div><!--end chapter-->
+
+<div class="chapter">
+
+<h2><a name="link2HCH0006" id="link2HCH0006"></a>
+CHAPTER VI.</h2>
+
+<p>
+One afternoon in the autumn Gervaise, who had been taking some washing home to
+a customer in the Rue des Portes-Blanches, found herself at the bottom of the
+Rue des Poissonniers just as the day was declining. It had rained in the
+morning, the weather was very mild and an odor rose from the greasy pavement;
+and the laundress, burdened with her big basket, was rather out of breath, slow
+of step, and inclined to take her ease as she ascended the street with the
+vague preoccupation of a longing increased by her weariness. She would have
+liked to have had something to eat. Then, on raising her eyes she beheld the
+name of the Rue Marcadet, and she suddenly had the idea of going to see Goujet
+at his forge. He had no end of times told her to look in any day she was
+curious to see how iron was wrought. Besides in the presence of other workmen
+she would ask for Etienne, and make believe that she had merely called for the
+youngster.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The factory was somewhere on this end of the Rue Marcadet, but she didn&rsquo;t
+know exactly where and street numbers were often lacking on those ramshackle
+buildings separated by vacant lots. She wouldn&rsquo;t have lived on this
+street for all the gold in the world. It was a wide street, but dirty, black
+with soot from factories, with holes in the pavement and deep ruts filled with
+stagnant water. On both sides were rows of sheds, workshops with beams and
+brickwork exposed so that they seemed unfinished, a messy collection of
+masonry. Beside them were dubious lodging houses and even more dubious taverns.
+All she could recall was that the bolt factory was next to a yard full of scrap
+iron and rags, a sort of open sewer spread over the ground, storing merchandise
+worth hundreds of thousands of francs, according to Goujet.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The street was filled with a noisy racket. Exhaust pipes on roofs puffed out
+violent jets of steam; an automatic sawmill added a rhythmic screeching; a
+button factory shook the ground with the rumbling of its machines. She was
+looking up toward the Montmartre height, hesitant, uncertain whether to
+continue, when a gust of wind blew down a mass of sooty smoke that covered the
+entire street. She closed her eyes and held her breath. At that moment she
+heard the sound of hammers in cadence. Without realizing it, she had arrived
+directly in front of the bolt factory which she now recognized by the vacant
+lot beside it full of piles of scrap iron and old rags.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+She still hesitated, not knowing where to enter. A broken fence opened a
+passage which seemed to lead through the heaps of rubbish from some buildings
+recently pulled down. Two planks had been thrown across a large puddle of muddy
+water that barred the way. She ended by venturing along them, turned to the
+left and found herself lost in the depths of a strange forest of old carts,
+standing on end with their shafts in the air, and of hovels in ruins, the
+wood-work of which was still standing. Toward the back, stabbing through the
+half-light of sundown, a flame gleamed red. The clamor of the hammers had
+ceased. She was advancing carefully when a workman, his face blackened with
+coal-dust and wearing a goatee passed near her, casting a side-glance with his
+pale eyes.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Sir,&rdquo; asked she, &ldquo;it&rsquo;s here is it not that a boy named
+Etienne works? He&rsquo;s my son.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Etienne, Etienne,&rdquo; repeated the workman in a hoarse voice as he
+twisted himself about. &ldquo;Etienne; no I don&rsquo;t know him.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+An alcoholic reek like that from old brandy casks issued from his mouth.
+Meeting a woman in this dark corner seemed to be giving the fellow ideas, and
+so Gervaise drew back saying:
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;But yet it&rsquo;s here that Monsieur Goujet works, isn&rsquo;t
+it?&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Ah! Goujet, yes!&rdquo; said the workman; &ldquo;I know Goujet! If you
+come for Goujet, go right to the end.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+And turning round he called out at the top of his voice, which had a sound of
+cracked brass:
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;I say Golden-Mug, here&rsquo;s a lady wants you!&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+But a clanging of iron drowned the cry! Gervaise went to the end. She reached a
+door and stretching out her neck looked in. At first she could distinguish
+nothing. The forge had died down, but there was still a little glow which held
+back the advancing shadows from its corner. Great shadows seemed to float in
+the air. At times black shapes passed before the fire, shutting off this last
+bit of brightness, silhouettes of men so strangely magnified that their arms
+and legs were indistinct. Gervaise, not daring to venture in, called from the
+doorway in a faint voice:
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Monsieur Goujet! Monsieur Goujet!&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Suddenly all became lighted up. Beneath the puff of the bellows a jet of white
+flame had ascended and the whole interior of the shed could be seen, walled in
+by wooden planks, with openings roughly plastered over, and brick walls
+reinforcing the corners. Coal-ash had painted the whole expanse a sooty grey.
+Spider webs hung from the beams like rags hung up to dry, heavy with the
+accumulated dust of years. On shelves along the walls, or hanging from nails,
+or tossed into corners, she saw rusty iron, battered implements and huge tools.
+The white flame flared higher, like an explosion of dazzling sunlight revealing
+the trampled dirt underfoot, where the polished steel of four anvils fixed on
+blocks took on a reflection of silver sprinkled with gold.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Then Gervaise recognized Goujet in front of the forge by his beautiful yellow
+beard. Etienne was blowing the bellows. Two other workmen were there, but she
+only beheld Goujet and walked forward and stood before him.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Why it&rsquo;s Madame Gervaise!&rdquo; he exclaimed with a bright look
+on his face. &ldquo;What a pleasant surprise.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+But as his comrades appeared to be rather amused, he pushed Etienne towards his
+mother and resumed:
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;You&rsquo;ve come to see the youngster. He behaves himself well,
+he&rsquo;s beginning to get some strength in his wrists.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Well!&rdquo; she said, &ldquo;it isn&rsquo;t easy to find your way here.
+I thought I was going to the end of the world.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+After telling about her journey, she asked why no one in the shop knew
+Etienne&rsquo;s name. Goujet laughed and explained to her that everybody called
+him &ldquo;Little Zouzou&rdquo; because he had his hair cut short like that of
+a Zouave. While they were talking together Etienne stopped working the bellows
+and the flame of the forge dwindled to a rosy glow amid the gathering darkness.
+Touched by the presence of this smiling young woman, the blacksmith stood
+gazing at her.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Then, as neither continued speaking, he seemed to recollect and broke the
+silence:
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Excuse me, Madame Gervaise, I&rsquo;ve something that has to be
+finished. You&rsquo;ll stay, won&rsquo;t you? You&rsquo;re not in
+anybody&rsquo;s way.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+She remained. Etienne returned to the bellows. The forge was soon ablaze again
+with a cloud of sparks; the more so as the youngster, wanting to show his
+mother what he could do, was making the bellows blow a regular hurricane.
+Goujet, standing up watching a bar of iron heating, was waiting with the tongs
+in his hand. The bright glare illuminated him without a shadow&mdash;sleeves
+rolled back, shirt neck open, bare arms and chest. When the bar was at white
+heat he seized it with the tongs and cut it with a hammer on the anvil, in
+pieces of equal length, as though he had been gently breaking pieces of glass.
+Then he put the pieces back into the fire, from which he took them one by one
+to work them into shape. He was forging hexagonal rivets. He placed each piece
+in a tool-hole of the anvil, bent down the iron that was to form the head,
+flattened the six sides and threw the finished rivet still red-hot on to the
+black earth, where its bright light gradually died out; and this with a
+continuous hammering, wielding in his right hand a hammer weighing five pounds,
+completing a detail at every blow, turning and working the iron with such
+dexterity that he was able to talk to and look at those about him. The anvil
+had a silvery ring. Without a drop of perspiration, quite at his ease, he
+struck in a good-natured sort of a way, not appearing to exert himself more
+than on the evenings when he cut out pictures at home.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Oh! these are little rivets of twenty millimetres,&rdquo; said he in
+reply to Gervaise&rsquo;s questions. &ldquo;A fellow can do his three hundred a
+day. But it requires practice, for one&rsquo;s arm soon grows weary.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+And when she asked him if his wrist did not feel stiff at the end of the day he
+laughed aloud. Did she think him a young lady? His wrist had had plenty of
+drudgery for fifteen years past; it was now as strong as the iron implements it
+had been so long in contact with. She was right though; a gentleman who had
+never forged a rivet or a bolt, and who would try to show off with his five
+pound hammer, would find himself precious stiff in the course of a couple of
+hours. It did not seem much, but a few years of it often did for some very
+strong fellows. During this conversation the other workmen were also hammering
+away all together. Their tall shadows danced about in the light, the red
+flashes of the iron that the fire traversed, the gloomy recesses, clouds of
+sparks darted out from beneath the hammers and shone like suns on a level with
+the anvils. And Gervaise, feeling happy and interested in the movement round
+the forge, did not think of leaving. She was going a long way round to get
+nearer to Etienne without having her hands burnt, when she saw the dirty and
+bearded workman, whom she had spoken to outside, enter.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;So you&rsquo;ve found him, madame?&rdquo; asked he in his drunken
+bantering way. &ldquo;You know, Golden-Mug, it&rsquo;s I who told madame where
+to find you.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+He was called Salted-Mouth, otherwise Drink-without-Thirst, the brick of
+bricks, a dab hand at bolt forging, who wetted his iron every day with a pint
+and a half of brandy. He had gone out to have a drop, because he felt he wanted
+greasing to make him last till six o&rsquo;clock. When he learnt that Little
+Zouzou&rsquo;s real name was Etienne, he thought it very funny; and he showed
+his black teeth as he laughed. Then he recognized Gervaise. Only the day before
+he had had a glass of wine with Coupeau. You could speak to Coupeau about
+Salted-Mouth, otherwise Drink-without-Thirst; he would at once say:
+&ldquo;He&rsquo;s a jolly dog!&rdquo; Ah! that joker Coupeau! He was one of the
+right sort; he stood treat oftener than his turn.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;I&rsquo;m awfully glad to know you&rsquo;re his missus,&rdquo; added he.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;He deserves to have a pretty wife. Eh, Golden-Mug, madame is a fine
+woman, isn&rsquo;t she?&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+He was becoming quite gallant, sidling up towards the laundress, who took hold
+of her basket and held it in front of her so as to keep him at a distance.
+Goujet, annoyed and seeing that his comrade was joking because of his
+friendship for Gervaise, called out to him:
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;I say, lazybones, what about the forty millimetre bolts? Do you think
+you&rsquo;re equal to them now that you&rsquo;ve got your gullet full, you
+confounded guzzler?&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The blacksmith was alluding to an order for big bolts which necessitated two
+beaters at the anvil.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;I&rsquo;m ready to start at this moment, big baby!&rdquo; replied
+Salted-Mouth, otherwise Drink-without-Thirst. &ldquo;It sucks it&rsquo;s thumb
+and thinks itself a man. In spite of your size I&rsquo;m equal to you!&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Yes, that&rsquo;s it, at once. Look sharp and off we go!&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Right you are, my boy!&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+They taunted each other, stimulated by Gervaise&rsquo;s presence. Goujet placed
+the pieces of iron that had been cut beforehand in the fire, then he fixed a
+tool-hole of large bore on an anvil. His comrade had taken from against the
+wall two sledge-hammers weighing twenty pounds each, the two big sisters of the
+factory whom the workers called Fifine and Dedele. And he continued to brag,
+talking of a half-gross of rivets which he had forged for the Dunkirk
+lighthouse, regular jewels, things to be put in a museum, they were so daintily
+finished off. Hang it all, no! he did not fear competition; before meeting with
+another chap like him, you might search every factory in the capital. They were
+going to have a laugh; they would see what they would see.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Madame will be judge,&rdquo; said he, turning towards the young woman.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Enough chattering,&rdquo; cried Goujet. &ldquo;Now then, Zouzou, show
+your muscle! It&rsquo;s not hot enough, my lad.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+But Salted-Mouth, otherwise Drink-without-Thirst, asked: &ldquo;So we strike
+together?&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Not a bit of it! each his own bolt, my friend!&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+This statement operated as a damper, and Goujet&rsquo;s comrade, on hearing it,
+remained speechless, in spite of his boasting. Bolts of forty millimetres
+fashioned by one man had never before been seen; the more so as the bolts were
+to be round-headed, a work of great difficulty, a real masterpiece to achieve.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The three other workmen came over, leaving their jobs, to watch. A tall, lean
+one wagered a bottle of wine that Goujet would be beaten. Meanwhile the two
+blacksmiths had chosen their sledge hammers with eyes closed, because Fifine
+weighed a half pound more than Dedele. Salted-Mouth, otherwise
+Drink-without-Thirst, had the good luck to put his hand on Dedele; Fifine fell
+to Golden-Mug.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+While waiting for the iron to get hot enough, Salted-Mouth, otherwise
+Drink-without-Thirst, again showing off, struck a pose before the anvil while
+casting side glances toward Gervaise. He planted himself solidly, tapping his
+feet impatiently like a man ready for a fight, throwing all his strength into
+practice swings with Dedele. <i>Mon Dieu!</i> He was good at this; he could
+have flattened the Vendome column like a pancake.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Now then, off you go!&rdquo; said Goujet, placing one of the pieces of
+iron, as thick as a girl&rsquo;s wrist, in the tool-hole.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Salted-Mouth, otherwise Drink-without-Thirst, leant back, and swung Dedele
+round with both hands. Short and lean, with his goatee bristling, and with his
+wolf-like eyes glaring beneath his unkempt hair, he seemed to snap at each
+swing of the hammer, springing up from the ground as though carried away by the
+force he put into the blow. He was a fierce one, who fought with the iron,
+annoyed at finding it so hard, and he even gave a grunt whenever he thought he
+had planted a fierce stroke. Perhaps brandy did weaken other people&rsquo;s
+arms, but he needed brandy in his veins, instead of blood. The drop he had
+taken a little while before had made his carcass as warm as a boiler; he felt
+he had the power of a steam-engine within him. And the iron seemed to be afraid
+of him this time; he flattened it more easily than if it had been a quid of
+tobacco. And it was a sight to see how Dedele waltzed! She cut such capers,
+with her tootsies in the air, just like a little dancer at the Elysee
+Montmartre, who exhibits her fine underclothes; for it would never do to
+dawdle, iron is so deceitful, it cools at once, just to spite the hammer. With
+thirty blows, Salted-Mouth, otherwise Drink-without-Thirst, had fashioned the
+head of his bolt. But he panted, his eyes were half out of his head, and got
+into a great rage as he felt his arms growing tired. Then, carried away by
+wrath, jumping about and yelling, he gave two more blows, just out of revenge
+for his trouble. When he took the bolt from the hole, it was deformed, its head
+being askew like a hunchback&rsquo;s.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Come now! Isn&rsquo;t that quickly beaten into shape?&rdquo; said he all
+the same, with his self-confidence, as he presented his work to Gervaise.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;I&rsquo;m no judge, sir,&rdquo; replied the laundress, reservedly.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+But she saw plainly enough the marks of Dedele&rsquo;s last two kicks on the
+bolt, and she was very pleased. She bit her lips so as not to laugh, for now
+Goujet had every chance of winning.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+It was now Golden-Mug&rsquo;s turn. Before commencing, he gave the laundress a
+look full of confident tenderness. Then he did not hurry himself. He measured
+his distance, and swung the hammer from on high with all his might and at
+regular intervals. He had the classic style, accurate, evenly balanced, and
+supple. Fifine, in his hands, did not cut capers, like at a dance-hall, but
+made steady, certain progress; she rose and fell in cadence, like a lady of
+quality solemnly leading some ancient minuet.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+There was no brandy in Golden-Mug&rsquo;s veins, only blood, throbbing
+powerfully even into Fifine and controlling the job. That stalwart fellow! What
+a magnificent man he was at work. The high flame of the forge shone full on his
+face. His whole face seemed golden indeed with his short hair curling over his
+forehead and his splendid yellow beard. His neck was as straight as a column
+and his immense chest was wide enough for a woman to sleep across it. His
+shoulders and sculptured arms seemed to have been copied from a giant&rsquo;s
+statue in some museum. You could see his muscles swelling, mountains of flesh
+rippling and hardening under the skin; his shoulders, his chest, his neck
+expanded; he seemed to shed light about him, becoming beautiful and
+all-powerful like a kindly god.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+He had now swung Fifine twenty times, his eyes always fixed on the iron,
+drawing a deep breath with each blow, yet showing only two great drops of sweat
+trickling down from his temples. He counted: &ldquo;Twenty-one, twenty-two,
+twenty-three&mdash;&rdquo; Calmly Fifine continued, like a noble lady dancing.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;What a show-off!&rdquo; jeeringly murmured Salted-Mouth, otherwise
+Drink-without-Thirst.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Gervaise, standing opposite Goujet, looked at him with an affectionate smile.
+<i>Mon Dieu!</i> What fools men are! Here these two men were, pounding on their
+bolts to pay court to her. She understood it. They were battling with hammer
+blows, like two big red roosters vying for the favors of a little white hen.
+Sometimes the human heart has fantastic ways of expressing itself. This
+thundering of Dedele and Fifine upon the anvil was for her, this forge roaring
+and overflowing was for her. They were forging their love before her, battling
+over her.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+To be honest, she rather enjoyed it. All women are happy to receive
+compliments. The mighty blows of Golden-Mug found echoes in her heart; they
+rang within her, a crystal-clear music in time with the throbbing of her pulse.
+She had the feeling that this hammering was driving something deep inside of
+her, something solid, something hard as the iron of the bolt.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+She had no doubt Goujet would win. Salted-Mouth, otherwise
+Drink-without-Thirst, was much too ugly in his dirty tunic, jumping around like
+a monkey that had escaped from a zoo. She waited, blushing red, happy that the
+heat could explain the blush.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Goujet was still counting.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;And twenty-eight!&rdquo; cried he at length, laying the hammer on the
+ground. &ldquo;It&rsquo;s finished; you can look.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The head of the bolt was clean, polished, and without a flaw, regular
+goldsmith&rsquo;s work, with the roundness of a marble cast in a mold. The
+other men looked at it and nodded their heads; there was no denying it was
+lovely enough to be worshipped. Salted-Mouth, otherwise Drink-without-Thirst,
+tried indeed to chuff; but it was no use, and ended by returning to his anvil,
+with his nose put out of joint. Gervaise had squeezed up against Goujet, as
+though to get a better view. Etienne having let go the bellows, the forge was
+once more becoming enveloped in shadow, like a brilliant red sunset suddenly
+giving way to black night. And the blacksmith and the laundress experienced a
+sweet pleasure in feeling this gloom surround them in that shed black with soot
+and filings, and where an odor of old iron prevailed. They could not have
+thought themselves more alone in the Bois de Vincennes had they met there in
+the depths of some copse. He took her hand as though he had conquered her.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Outside, they scarcely exchanged a word. All he could find to say was that she
+might have taken Etienne away with her, had it not been that there was still
+another half-hour&rsquo;s work to get through. When she started away he called
+her back, wanting a few more minutes with her.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Come along. You haven&rsquo;t seen all the place. It&rsquo;s quite
+interesting.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+He led her to another shed where the owner was installing a new machine. She
+hesitated in the doorway, oppressed by an instinctive dread. The great hall was
+vibrating from the machines and black shadows filled the air. He reassured her
+with a smile, swearing that there was nothing to fear, only she should be
+careful not to let her skirts get caught in any of the gears. He went first and
+she followed into the deafening hubbub of whistling, amid clouds of steam
+peopled by human shadows moving busily.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The passages were very narrow and there were obstacles to step over, holes to
+avoid, passing carts to move back from. She couldn&rsquo;t distinguish anything
+clearly or hear what Goujet was saying.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Gervaise looked up and stopped to stare at the leather belts hanging from the
+roof in a gigantic spider web, each strip ceaselessly revolving. The steam
+engine that drove them was hidden behind a low brick wall so that the belts
+seemed to be moving by themselves. She stumbled and almost fell while looking
+up.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Goujet raised his voice with explanations. There were the tapping machines
+operated by women, which put threads on bolts and nuts. Their steel gears were
+shining with oil. She could follow the entire process. She nodded her head and
+smiled.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+She was still a little tense, however, feeling uneasy at being so small among
+these rough metalworkers. She jumped back more than once, her blood suddenly
+chilled by the dull thud of a machine.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Goujet had stopped before one of the rivet machines. He stood there brooding,
+his head lowered, his gaze fixed. This machine forged forty millimetre rivets
+with the calm ease of a giant. Nothing could be simpler. The stoker took the
+iron shank from the furnace; the striker put it into the socket, where a
+continuous stream of water cooled it to prevent softening of the steel. The
+press descended and the bolt flew out onto the ground, its head as round as
+though cast in a mold. Every twelve hours this machine made hundreds of
+kilograms of bolts!
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Goujet was not a mean person, but there were moments when he wanted to take
+Fifine and smash this machine to bits because he was angry to see that its arms
+were stronger than his own. He reasoned with himself, telling himself that
+human flesh cannot compete with steel. But he was still deeply hurt. The day
+would come when machinery would destroy the skilled worker. Their day&rsquo;s
+pay had already fallen from twelve francs to nine francs. There was talk of
+cutting it again. He stared at it, frowning, for three minutes without saying a
+word. His yellow beard seemed to bristle defiantly. Then, gradually an
+expression of resignation came over his face and he turned toward Gervaise who
+was clinging tightly to him and said with a sad smile:
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Well! That machine would certainly win a contest. But perhaps it will be
+for the good of mankind in the long run.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Gervaise didn&rsquo;t care a bit about the welfare of mankind. Smiling, she
+said to Goujet:
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;I like yours better, because they show the hand of an artist.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Hearing this gave him great happiness because he had been afraid that she might
+be scornful of him after seeing the machines. <i>Mon Dieu!</i> He might be
+stronger than Salted-Mouth, otherwise Drink-without-Thirst, but the machines
+were stronger yet. When Gervaise finally took her leave, Goujet was so happy
+that he almost crushed her with a hug.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The laundress went every Saturday to the Goujets to deliver their washing. They
+still lived in the little house in the Rue Neuve de la Goutte-d&rsquo;Or.
+During the first year she had regularly repaid them twenty francs a month; so
+as not to jumble up the accounts, the washing-book was only made up at the end
+of each month, and then she added to the amount whatever sum was necessary to
+make the twenty francs, for the Goujets&rsquo; washing rarely came to more than
+seven or eight francs during that time. She had therefore paid off nearly half
+the sum owing, when one quarter day, not knowing what to do, some of her
+customers not having kept their promises, she had been obliged to go to the
+Goujets and borrow from them sufficient for her rent. On two other occasions
+she had also applied to them for the money to pay her workwomen, so that the
+debt had increased again to four hundred and twenty-five francs. Now, she no
+longer gave a halfpenny; she worked off the amount solely by the washing. It
+was not that she worked less, or that her business was not so prosperous. But
+something was going wrong in her home; the money seemed to melt away, and she
+was glad when she was able to make both ends meet. <i>Mon Dieu!</i>
+What&rsquo;s the use of complaining as long as one gets by. She was putting on
+weight and this caused her to become a bit lazy. She no longer had the energy
+that she had in the past. Oh well, there was always something coming in.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Madame Goujet felt a motherly concern for Gervaise and sometimes reprimanded
+her. This wasn&rsquo;t due to the money owed but because she liked her and
+didn&rsquo;t want to see her get into difficulties. She never mentioned the
+debt. In short, she behaved with the utmost delicacy.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The morrow of Gervaise&rsquo;s visit to the forge happened to be the last
+Saturday of the month. When she reached the Goujets, where she made a point of
+going herself, her basket had so weighed on her arms that she was quite two
+minutes before she could get her breath. One would hardly believe how heavy
+clothes are, especially when there are sheets among them.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Are you sure you&rsquo;ve brought everything?&rdquo; asked Madame
+Goujet.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+She was very strict on that point. She insisted on having her washing brought
+home without a single article being kept back for the sake of order, as she
+said. She also required the laundress always to come on the day arranged and at
+the same hour; in that way there was no time wasted.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Oh! yes, everything is here,&rdquo; replied Gervaise smiling. &ldquo;You
+know I never leave anything behind.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;That&rsquo;s true,&rdquo; admitted Madame Goujet; &ldquo;you&rsquo;ve
+got into many bad habits but you&rsquo;re still free of that one.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+And while the laundress emptied her basket, laying the linen on the bed, the
+old woman praised her; she never burnt the things nor tore them like so many
+others did, neither did she pull the buttons off with the iron; only she used
+too much blue and made the shirt-fronts too stiff with starch.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Just look, it&rsquo;s like cardboard,&rdquo; continued she, making one
+crackle between her fingers. &ldquo;My son does not complain, but it cuts his
+neck. To-morrow his neck will be all scratched when we return from
+Vincennes.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;No, don&rsquo;t say that!&rdquo; exclaimed Gervaise, quite grieved.
+&ldquo;To look nice, shirts must be rather stiff, otherwise it&rsquo;s as
+though one had a rag on one&rsquo;s body. You should just see what the
+gentlemen wear. I do all your things myself. The workwomen never touch them and
+I assure you I take great pains. I would, if necessary, do everything over a
+dozen times, because it&rsquo;s for you, you know.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+She slightly blushed as she stammered out the last words. She was afraid of
+showing the great pleasure she took in ironing Goujet&rsquo;s shirts. She
+certainly had no wicked thoughts, but she was none the less a little bit
+ashamed.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Oh! I&rsquo;m not complaining of your work; I know it&rsquo;s
+perfection,&rdquo; said Madame Goujet. &ldquo;For instance, you&rsquo;ve done
+this cap splendidly, only you could bring out the embroidery like that. And the
+flutings are all so even. Oh! I recognize your hand at once. When you give even
+a dish-cloth to one of your workwomen I detect it at once. In future, use a
+little less starch, that&rsquo;s all! Goujet does not care to look like a
+stylish gentleman.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+She had taken out her notebook and was crossing off the various items.
+Everything was in order. She noticed that Gervaise was charging six sous for
+each bonnet. She protested, but had to agree that it was in line with present
+prices. Men&rsquo;s shirts were five sous, women&rsquo;s underdrawers four
+sous, pillow-cases a sou and a half, and aprons one sou. No, the prices
+weren&rsquo;t high. Some laundresses charged a sou more for each item.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Gervaise was now calling out the soiled clothes, as she packed them in her
+basket, for Madame Goujet to list. Then she lingered on, embarrassed by a
+request which she wished to make.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Madame Goujet,&rdquo; she said at length, &ldquo;if it does not
+inconvenience you, I would like to take the money for the month&rsquo;s
+washing.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+It so happened that that month was a very heavy one, the account they had made
+up together amounting to ten francs, seven sous. Madame Goujet looked at her a
+moment in a serious manner, then she replied:
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;My child, it shall be as you wish. I will not refuse you the money as
+you are in need of it. Only it&rsquo;s scarcely the way to pay off your debt; I
+say that for your sake, you know. Really now, you should be careful.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Gervaise received the lecture with bowed head and stammering excuses. The ten
+francs were to make up the amount of a bill she had given her coke merchant.
+But on hearing the word &ldquo;bill,&rdquo; Madame Goujet became severer still.
+She gave herself as an example; she had reduced her expenditure ever since
+Goujet&rsquo;s wages had been lowered from twelve to nine francs a day. When
+one was wanting in wisdom whilst young, one dies of hunger in one&rsquo;s old
+age. But she held back and didn&rsquo;t tell Gervaise that she gave her their
+laundry only in order to help her pay off the debt. Before that she had done
+all her own washing, and she would have to do it herself again if the laundry
+continued taking so much cash out of her pocket. Gervaise spoke her thanks and
+left quickly as soon as she had received the ten francs seven sous. Outside on
+the landing she was so relieved she wanted to dance. She was becoming used to
+the annoying, unpleasant difficulties caused by a shortage of money and
+preferred to remember not the embarrassment but the joy in escaping from them.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+It was also on that Saturday that Gervaise met with a rather strange adventure
+as she descended the Goujets&rsquo; staircase. She was obliged to stand up
+close against the stair-rail with her basket to make way for a tall bare-headed
+woman who was coming up, carrying in her hand a very fresh mackerel, with
+bloody gills, in a piece of paper. She recognized Virginie, the girl whose face
+she had slapped at the wash-house. They looked each other full in the face.
+Gervaise shut her eyes. She thought for a moment that she was going to be hit
+in the face with the fish. But no, Virginie even smiled slightly. Then, as her
+basket was blocking the staircase, the laundress wished to show how polite she,
+too, could be.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;I beg your pardon,&rdquo; she said.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;You are completely excused,&rdquo; replied the tall brunette.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+And they remained conversing together on the stairs, reconciled at once without
+having ventured on a single allusion to the past. Virginie, then twenty-nine
+years old, had become a superb woman of strapping proportions, her face,
+however, looking rather long between her two plaits of jet black hair. She at
+once began to relate her history just to show off. She had a husband now; she
+had married in the spring an ex-journeyman cabinetmaker, who recently left the
+army, and who had applied to be admitted into the police, because a post of
+that kind is more to be depended upon and more respectable. She had been out to
+buy the mackerel for him.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;He adores mackerel,&rdquo; said she. &ldquo;We must spoil them, those
+naughty men, mustn&rsquo;t we? But come up. You shall see our home. We are
+standing in a draught here.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+After Gervaise had told of her own marriage and that she had formerly occupied
+the very apartment Virginie now had, Virginie urged her even more strongly to
+come up since it is always nice to visit a spot where one had been happy.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Virginie had lived for five years on the Left Bank at Gros-Caillou. That was
+where she had met her husband while he was still in the army. But she got tired
+of it, and wanted to come back to the Goutte-d&rsquo;Or neighborhood where she
+knew everyone. She had only been living in the rooms opposite the Goujets for
+two weeks. Oh! everything was still a mess, but they were slowly getting it in
+order.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Then, still on the staircase, they finally told each other their names.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Madame Coupeau.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Madame Poisson.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+And from that time forth, they called each other on every possible occasion
+Madame Poisson and Madame Coupeau, solely for the pleasure of being madame,
+they who in former days had been acquainted when occupying rather questionable
+positions. However, Gervaise felt rather mistrustful at heart. Perhaps the tall
+brunette had made it up the better to avenge herself for the beating at the
+wash-house by concocting some plan worthy of a spiteful hypocritical creature.
+Gervaise determined to be upon her guard. For the time being, as Virginie
+behaved so nicely, she would be nice also.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+In the room upstairs, Poisson, the husband, a man of thirty-five, with a
+cadaverous-looking countenance and carroty moustaches and beard, was seated
+working at a table near the window. He was making little boxes. His only tools
+were a knife, a tiny saw the size of a nail file and a pot of glue. He was
+using wood from old cigar boxes, thin boards of unfinished mahogany upon which
+he executed fretwork and embellishments of extraordinary delicacy. All year
+long he worked at making the same size boxes, only varying them occasionally by
+inlay work, new designs for the cover, or putting compartments inside. He did
+not sell his work, he distributed it in presents to persons of his
+acquaintance. It was for his own amusement, a way of occupying his time while
+waiting for his appointment to the police force. It was all that remained with
+him from his former occupation of cabinetmaking.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Poisson rose from his seat and politely bowed to Gervaise, when his wife
+introduced her as an old friend. But he was no talker; he at once returned to
+his little saw. From time to time he merely glanced in the direction of the
+mackerel placed on the corner of the chest of drawers. Gervaise was very
+pleased to see her old lodging once more. She told them whereabouts her own
+furniture stood, and pointed out the place on the floor where Nana had been
+born. How strange it was to meet like this again, after so many years! They
+never dreamed of running into each other like this and even living in the same
+rooms.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Virginie added some further details. Her husband had inherited a little money
+from an aunt and he would probably set her up in a shop before long. Meanwhile
+she was still sewing. At length, at the end of a full half hour, the laundress
+took her leave. Poisson scarcely seemed to notice her departure. While seeing
+her to the door, Virginie promised to return the visit. And she would have
+Gervaise do her laundry. While Virginie was keeping her in further conversation
+on the landing, Gervaise had the feeling that she wanted to say something about
+Lantier and her sister Adele, and this notion upset her a bit. But not a word
+was uttered respecting those unpleasant things; they parted, wishing each other
+good-bye in a very amiable manner.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Good-bye, Madame Coupeau.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Good-bye, Madame Poisson.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+That was the starting point of a great friendship. A week later, Virginie never
+passed Gervaise&rsquo;s shop without going in; and she remained there gossiping
+for hours together, to such an extent indeed that Poisson, filled with anxiety,
+fearing she had been run over, would come and seek her with his expressionless
+and death-like countenance. Now that she was seeing the dressmaker every day
+Gervaise became aware of a strange obsession. Every time Virginie began to talk
+Gervaise had the feeling Lantier was going to be mentioned. So she had Lantier
+on her mind throughout all of Virginie&rsquo;s visits. This was silly because,
+in fact, she didn&rsquo;t care a bit about Lantier or Adele at this time. She
+was quite certain that she had no curiosity as to what had happened to either
+of them. But this obsession got hold of her in spite of herself. Anyway, she
+didn&rsquo;t hold it against Virginie, it wasn&rsquo;t her fault, surely. She
+enjoyed being with her and looked forward to her visits.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Meanwhile winter had come, the Coupeaus&rsquo; fourth winter in the Rue de la
+Goutte-d&rsquo;Or. December and January were particularly cold. It froze hard
+as it well could. After New Year&rsquo;s day the snow remained three weeks
+without melting. It did not interfere with work, but the contrary, for winter
+is the best season for the ironers. It was very pleasant inside the shop! There
+was never any ice on the window-panes like there was at the grocer&rsquo;s and
+the hosier&rsquo;s opposite. The stove was always stuffed with coke and kept
+things as hot as a Turkish bath. With the laundry steaming overhead you could
+almost imagine it was summer. You were quite comfortable with the doors closed
+and so much warmth everywhere that you were tempted to doze off with your eyes
+open. Gervaise laughed and said it reminded her of summer in the country. The
+street traffic made no noise in the snow and you could hardly hear the
+pedestrians who passed by. Only children&rsquo;s voices were heard in the
+silence, especially the noisy band of urchins who had made a long slide in the
+gutter near the blacksmith&rsquo;s shop.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Gervaise would sometimes go over to the door, wipe the moisture from one of the
+panes with her hand, and look out to see what was happening to her neighborhood
+due to this extraordinary cold spell. Not one nose was being poked out of the
+adjacent shops. The entire neighborhood was muffled in snow. The only person
+she was able to exchange nods with was the coal-dealer next door, who still
+walked out bare-headed despite the severe freeze.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+What was especially enjoyable in this awful weather was to have some nice hot
+coffee in the middle of the day. The workwomen had no cause for complaint. The
+mistress made it very strong and without a grain of chicory. It was quite
+different to Madame Fauconnier&rsquo;s coffee, which was like ditch-water. Only
+whenever mother Coupeau undertook to make it, it was always an interminable
+time before it was ready, because she would fall asleep over the kettle. On
+these occasions, when the workwomen had finished their lunch, they would do a
+little ironing whilst waiting for the coffee.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+It so happened that on the morrow of Twelfth-day half-past twelve struck and
+still the coffee was not ready. It seemed to persist in declining to pass
+through the strainer. Mother Coupeau tapped against the pot with a tea-spoon;
+and one could hear the drops falling slowly, one by one, and without hurrying
+themselves any the more.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Leave it alone,&rdquo; said tall Clemence; &ldquo;you&rsquo;ll make it
+thick. To-day there&rsquo;ll be as much to eat as to drink.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Tall Clemence was working on a man&rsquo;s shirt, the plaits of which she
+separated with her finger-nail. She had caught a cold, her eyes were
+frightfully swollen and her chest was shaken with fits of coughing, which
+doubled her up beside the work-table. With all that she had not even a
+handkerchief round her neck and she was dressed in some cheap flimsy woolen
+stuff in which she shivered. Close by, Madame Putois, wrapped up in flannel
+muffled up to her ears, was ironing a petticoat which she turned round the
+skirt-board, the narrow end of which rested on the back of a chair; whilst a
+sheet laid on the floor prevented the petticoat from getting dirty as it
+trailed along the tiles. Gervaise alone occupied half the work-table with some
+embroidered muslin curtains, over which she passed her iron in a straight line
+with her arms stretched out to avoid making any creases. All on a sudden the
+coffee running through noisily caused her to raise her head. It was that
+squint-eyed Augustine who had just given it an outlet by thrusting a spoon
+through the strainer.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Leave it alone!&rdquo; cried Gervaise. &ldquo;Whatever is the matter
+with you? It&rsquo;ll be like drinking mud now.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Mother Coupeau had placed five glasses on a corner of the work-table that was
+free. The women now left their work. The mistress always poured out the coffee
+herself after putting two lumps of sugar into each glass. It was the moment
+that they all looked forward to. On this occasion, as each one took her glass
+and squatted down on a little stool in front of the stove, the shop-door
+opened. Virginie entered, shivering all over.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Ah, my children,&rdquo; said she, &ldquo;it cuts you in two! I can no
+longer feel my ears. The cold is something awful!&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Why, it&rsquo;s Madame Poisson!&rdquo; exclaimed Gervaise. &ldquo;Ah,
+well! You&rsquo;ve come at the right time. You must have some coffee with
+us.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;On my word, I can&rsquo;t say no. One feels the frost in one&rsquo;s
+bones merely by crossing the street.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+There was still some coffee left, luckily. Mother Coupeau went and fetched a
+sixth glass, and Gervaise let Virginie help herself to sugar out of politeness.
+The workwomen moved to give Virginie a small space close to the stove. Her nose
+was very red, she shivered a bit, pressing her hands which were stiff with cold
+around the glass to warm them. She had just come from the grocery store where
+you froze to death waiting for a quarter-pound of cheese and so she raved about
+the warmth of the shop. It felt so good on one&rsquo;s skin. After warming up,
+she stretched out her long legs and the six of them relaxed together, supping
+their coffee slowly, surround by all the work still to be done. Mother Coupeau
+and Virginie were the only ones on chairs, the others, on low benches, seemed
+to be sitting on the floor. Squint-eyed Augustine had pulled over a corner of
+the cloth below the skirt, stretching herself out on it.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+No one spoke at first; all kept their noses in their glasses, enjoying their
+coffee.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;It&rsquo;s not bad, all the same,&rdquo; declared Clemence.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+But she was seized with a fit of coughing, and almost choked. She leant her
+head against the wall to cough with more force.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;That&rsquo;s a bad cough you&rsquo;ve got,&rdquo; said Virginie.
+&ldquo;Wherever did you catch it?&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;One never knows!&rdquo; replied Clemence, wiping her face with her
+sleeve. &ldquo;It must have been the other night. There were two girls who were
+flaying each other outside the &lsquo;Grand-Balcony.&rsquo; I wanted to see, so
+I stood there whilst the snow was falling. Ah, what a drubbing! It was enough
+to make one die with laughing. One had her nose almost pulled off; the blood
+streamed on the ground. When the other, a great long stick like me, saw the
+blood, she slipped away as quick as she could. And I coughed nearly all night.
+Besides that too, men are so stupid in bed, they don&rsquo;t let you have any
+covers over you half the time.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Pretty conduct that,&rdquo; murmured Madame Putois. &ldquo;You&rsquo;re
+killing yourself, my girl.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;And if it pleases me to kill myself! Life isn&rsquo;t so very amusing.
+Slaving all the blessed day long to earn fifty-five sous, cooking one&rsquo;s
+blood from morning to night in front of the stove; no, you know, I&rsquo;ve had
+enough of it! All the same though, this cough won&rsquo;t do me the service of
+making me croak. It&rsquo;ll go off the same way it came.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+A short silence ensued. The good-for-nothing Clemence, who led riots in low
+dancing establishments, and shrieked like a screech-owl at work, always
+saddened everyone with her thoughts of death. Gervaise knew her well, and so
+merely said:
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;You&rsquo;re never very gay the morning after a night of high
+living.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The truth was that Gervaise did not like this talk about women fighting.
+Because of the flogging at the wash-house it annoyed her whenever anyone spoke
+before her and Virginie of kicks with wooden shoes and of slaps in the face. It
+so happened, too, that Virginie was looking at her and smiling.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;By the way,&rdquo; she said quietly, &ldquo;yesterday I saw some
+hair-pulling. They almost tore each other to pieces.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Who were they?&rdquo; Madame Putois inquired.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;The midwife and her maid, you know, a little blonde. What a pest the
+girl is! She was yelling at her employer that she had got rid of a child for
+the fruit woman and that she was going to tell the police if she wasn&rsquo;t
+paid to keep quiet. So the midwife slapped her right in the face and then the
+little blonde jumped on her and started scratching her and pulling her hair,
+really&mdash;by the roots. The sausage-man had to grab her to put a stop to
+it.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The workwomen laughed. Then they all took a sip of coffee.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Do you believe that she really got rid of a child?&rdquo; Clemence
+asked.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Oh, yes! The rumor was all round the neighborhood,&rdquo; Virginie
+answered. &ldquo;I didn&rsquo;t see it myself, you understand, but it&rsquo;s
+part of the job. All midwives do it.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Well!&rdquo; exclaimed Madame Putois. &ldquo;You have to be pretty
+stupid to put yourself in their hands. No thanks, you could be maimed for life.
+But there&rsquo;s a sure way to do it. Drink a glass of holy water every
+evening and make the sign of the cross three times over your stomach with your
+thumb. Then your troubles will be over.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Everyone thought mother Coupeau was asleep, but she shook her head in protest.
+She knew another way and it was infallible. You had to eat a hard-cooked egg
+every two hours, and put spinach leaves on your loins. Squint-eyed Augustine
+set up a hen-cackling when she heard this. They had forgotten about her.
+Gervaise lifted up the petticoat that was being ironed and found her rolling on
+the floor with laughter. She jerked her upright. What was she laughing about?
+Was it right for her to be eavesdropping when older people were talking, the
+little goose? Anyway it was time for her to deliver the laundry to a friend of
+Madame Lerat at Les Batignolles. So Gervaise hung a basket on her arm and
+pushed her toward the door. Augustine went off, sobbing and sniveling, dragging
+her feet in the snow.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Meanwhile mother Coupeau, Madame Putois and Clemence were discussing the
+effectiveness of hard-cooked eggs and spinach leaves. Then Virginie said
+softly:
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;<i>Mon Dieu!</i> you have a fight, and then you make it up, if you have
+a generous heart.&rdquo; She leaned toward Gervaise with a smile and added,
+&ldquo;Really, I don&rsquo;t hold any grudge against you for that business at
+the wash-house. You remember it, don&rsquo;t you?&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+This was what Gervaise had been dreading. She guessed that the subject of
+Lantier and Adele would now come up.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Virginie had moved close to Gervaise so as not to be overheard by the others.
+Gervaise, lulled by the excessive heat, felt so limp that she couldn&rsquo;t
+even summon the willpower to change the subject. She foresaw what the tall
+brunette would say and her heart was stirred with an emotion which she
+didn&rsquo;t want to admit to herself.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;I hope I&rsquo;m not hurting your feelings,&rdquo; Virginie continued.
+&ldquo;Often I&rsquo;ve had it on the tip of my tongue. But since we are now on
+the subject, word of honor, I don&rsquo;t have any grudge against you.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+She stirred her remaining coffee and then took a small sip. Gervaise, with her
+heart in her throat, wondered if Virginie had really forgiven her as completely
+as she said, for she seemed to observe sparks in her dark eyes.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;You see,&rdquo; Virginie went on, &ldquo;you had an excuse. They played
+a really rotten, dirty trick on you. To be fair about it, if it had been me,
+I&rsquo;d have taken a knife to her.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+She drank another small sip, then added rapidly without a pause:
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Anyway, it didn&rsquo;t bring them happiness, <i>mon Dieu</i>! Not a bit
+of it. They went to live over at La Glaciere, in a filthy street that was
+always muddy. I went two days later to have lunch with them. I can tell you, it
+was quite a trip by bus. Well, I found them already fighting. Really, as I came
+in they were boxing each other&rsquo;s ears. Fine pair of love birds! Adele
+isn&rsquo;t worth the rope to hang her. I say that even if she is my own
+sister. It would take too long to relate all the nasty tricks she played on me,
+and anyhow, it&rsquo;s between the two of us. As for Lantier&mdash;well,
+he&rsquo;s no good either. He&rsquo;d beat the hide off you for anything, and
+with his fist closed too. They fought all the time. The police even came
+once.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Virginie went on about other fights. Oh, she knew of things that would make
+your hair stand up. Gervaise listened in silence, her face pale. It was nearly
+seven years since she had heard a word about Lantier. She hadn&rsquo;t realized
+what a strong curiosity she had as to what had become of the poor man, even
+though he had treated her badly. And she never would have believed that just
+the mention of his name could put such a glowing warmth in the pit of her
+stomach. She certainly had no reason to be jealous of Adele any more but she
+rejoiced to think of her body all bruised from the beatings. She could have
+listened to Virginie all night, but she didn&rsquo;t ask any questions, not
+wanting to appear much interested.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Virginie stopped to sip at her coffee. Gervaise, realizing that she was
+expected to say something, asked, with a pretence of indifference:
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Are they still living at La Glaciere?&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;No!&rdquo; the other replied. &ldquo;Didn&rsquo;t I tell you? They
+separated last week. One morning, Adele moved out and Lantier didn&rsquo;t
+chase after her.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;So they&rsquo;re separated!&rdquo; Gervaise exclaimed.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Who are you talking about?&rdquo; Clemence asked, interrupting her
+conversation with mother Coupeau and Madame Putois.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Nobody you know,&rdquo; said Virginie.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+She was looking at Gervaise carefully and could see that she was upset. She
+moved still closer, maliciously finding pleasure in bringing up these old
+stories. Of a sudden she asked Gervaise what she would do if Lantier came round
+here. Men were really such strange creatures, he might decide to return to his
+first love. This caused Gervaise to sit up very straight and dignified. She was
+a married woman; she would send Lantier off immediately. There was no
+possibility of anything further between them, not even a handshake. She would
+not even want to look that man in the face.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;I know that Etienne is his son, and that&rsquo;s a relationship that
+remains,&rdquo; she said. &ldquo;If Lantier wants to see his son, I&rsquo;ll
+send the boy to him because you can&rsquo;t stop a father from seeing his
+child. But as for myself, I don&rsquo;t want him to touch me even with the tip
+of his finger. That is all finished.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Desiring to break off this conversation, she seemed to awake with a start and
+called out to the women:
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;You ladies! Do you think all these clothes are going to iron themselves?
+Get to work!&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The workwomen, slow from the heat and general laziness, didn&rsquo;t hurry
+themselves, but went right on talking, gossiping about other people they had
+known.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Gervaise shook herself and got to her feet. Couldn&rsquo;t earn money by
+sitting all day. She was the first to return to the ironing, but found that her
+curtains had been spotted by the coffee and she had to rub out the stains with
+a damp cloth. The other women were now stretching and getting ready to begin
+ironing.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Clemence had a terrible attack of coughing as soon as she moved. Finally she
+was able to return to the shirt she had been doing. Madame Putois began to work
+on the petticoat again.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Well, good-bye,&rdquo; said Virginie. &ldquo;I only came out for a
+quarter-pound of Swiss cheese. Poisson must think I&rsquo;ve frozen to death on
+the way.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+She had only just stepped outside when she turned back to say that Augustine
+was at the end of the street, sliding on the ice with some urchins. The
+squint-eyed imp rushed in all red-faced and out of breath with snow all in her
+hair. She didn&rsquo;t mind the scolding she received, merely saying that she
+hadn&rsquo;t been able to walk fast because of the ice and then some brats
+threw snow at her.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The afternoons were all the same these winter days. The laundry was the refuge
+for anyone in the neighborhood who was cold. There was an endless procession of
+gossiping women. Gervaise took pride in the comforting warmth of her shop and
+welcomed those who came in, &ldquo;holding a salon,&rdquo; as the Lorilleuxs
+and the Boches remarked meanly.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Gervaise was always thoughtful and generous. Sometimes she even invited poor
+people in if she saw them shivering outside. A friendship sprang up with an
+elderly house-painter who was seventy. He lived in an attic room and was slowly
+dying of cold and hunger. His three sons had been killed in the war. He
+survived the best he could, but it had been two years since he had been able to
+hold a paint-brush in his hand. Whenever Gervaise saw Pere Bru walking outside,
+she would call him in and arrange a place for him close to the stove. Often she
+gave him some bread and cheese. Pere Bru&rsquo;s face was as wrinkled as a
+withered apple. He would sit there, with his stooping shoulders and his white
+beard, without saying a word, just listening to the coke sputtering in the
+stove. Maybe he was thinking of his fifty years of hard work on high ladders,
+his fifty years spent painting doors and whitewashing ceilings in every corner
+of Paris.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Well, Pere Bru,&rdquo; Gervaise would say, &ldquo;what are you thinking
+of now?&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Nothing much. All sorts of things,&rdquo; he would answer quietly.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The workwomen tried to joke with him to cheer him up, saying he was worrying
+over his love affairs, but he scarcely listened to them before he fell back
+into his habitual attitude of meditative melancholy.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Virginie now frequently spoke to Gervaise of Lantier. She seemed to find
+amusement in filling her mind with ideas of her old lover just for the pleasure
+of embarrassing her by making suggestions. One day she related that she had met
+him; then, as the laundress took no notice, she said nothing further, and it
+was only on the morrow that she added he had spoken about her for a long time,
+and with a great show of affection. Gervaise was much upset by these reports
+whispered in her ear in a corner of the shop. The mention of Lantier&rsquo;s
+name always caused a worried sensation in the pit of her stomach. She certainly
+thought herself strong; she wished to lead the life of an industrious woman,
+because labor is the half of happiness. So she never considered Coupeau in this
+matter, having nothing to reproach herself with as regarded her husband, not
+even in her thoughts. But with a hesitating and suffering heart, she would
+think of the blacksmith. It seemed to her that the memory of Lantier&mdash;that
+slow possession which she was resuming&mdash;rendered her unfaithful to Goujet,
+to their unavowed love, sweet as friendship. She passed sad days whenever she
+felt herself guilty towards her good friend. She would have liked to have had
+no affection for anyone but him outside of her family. It was a feeling far
+above all carnal thoughts, for the signs of which upon her burning face
+Virginie was ever on the watch.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+As soon as spring came Gervaise often went and sought refuge with Goujet. She
+could no longer sit musing on a chair without immediately thinking of her first
+lover; she pictured him leaving Adele, packing his clothes in the bottom of
+their old trunk, and returning to her in a cab. The days when she went out, she
+was seized with the most foolish fears in the street; she was ever thinking she
+heard Lantier&rsquo;s footsteps behind her. She did not dare turn round, but
+tremblingly fancied she felt his hands seizing her round the waist. He was, no
+doubt, spying upon her; he would appear before her some afternoon; and the bare
+idea threw her into a cold perspiration, because he would to a certainty kiss
+her on the ear, as he used to do in former days solely to tease her. It was
+this kiss which frightened her; it rendered her deaf beforehand; it filled her
+with a buzzing amidst which she could only distinguish the sound of her heart
+beating violently. So, as soon as these fears seized upon her, the forge was
+her only shelter; there, under Goujet&rsquo;s protection, she once more became
+easy and smiling, as his sonorous hammer drove away her disagreeable
+reflections.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+What a happy time! The laundress took particular pains with the washing of her
+customer in the Rue des Portes-Blanches; she always took it home herself
+because that errand, every Friday, was a ready excuse for passing through the
+Rue Marcadet and looking in at the forge. The moment she turned the corner of
+the street she felt light and gay, as though in the midst of those plots of
+waste land surrounded by grey factories, she were out in the country; the
+roadway black with coal-dust, the plumage of steam over the roofs, amused her
+as much as a moss-covered path leading through masses of green foliage in a
+wood in the environs; and she loved the dull horizon, streaked by the tall
+factory-chimneys, the Montmartre heights, which hid the heavens from view, the
+chalky white houses pierced with the uniform openings of their windows. She
+would slacken her steps as she drew near, jumping over the pools of water, and
+finding a pleasure in traversing the deserted ins and outs of the yard full of
+old building materials. Right at the further end the forge shone with a
+brilliant light, even at mid-day. Her heart leapt with the dance of the
+hammers. When she entered, her face turned quite red, the little fair hairs at
+the nape of her neck flew about like those of a woman arriving at some
+lovers&rsquo; meeting. Goujet was expecting her, his arms and chest bare,
+whilst he hammered harder on the anvil on those days so as to make himself
+heard at a distance. He divined her presence, and greeted her with a good
+silent laugh in his yellow beard. But she would not let him leave off his work;
+she begged him to take up his hammer again, because she loved him the more when
+he wielded it with his big arms swollen with muscles. She would go and give
+Etienne a gentle tap on the cheek, as he hung on to the bellows, and then
+remain for an hour watching the rivets.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The two did not exchange a dozen words. They could not have more completely
+satisfied their love if alone in a room with the door double-locked. The
+snickering of Salted-Mouth, otherwise Drink-without-Thirst, did not bother them
+in the least, for they no longer even heard him. At the end of a quarter of an
+hour she would begin to feel slightly oppressed; the heat, the powerful smell,
+the ascending smoke, made her dizzy, whilst the dull thuds of the hammers shook
+her from the crown of her head to the soles of her feet. Then she desired
+nothing more; it was her pleasure. Had Goujet pressed her in his arms it would
+not have procured her so sweet an emotion. She drew close to him that she might
+feel the wind raised by his hammer beat upon her cheek, and become, as it were,
+a part of the blow he struck. When the sparks made her soft hands smart, she
+did not withdraw them; on the contrary, she enjoyed the rain of fire which
+stung her skin. He for certain, divined the happiness which she tasted there;
+he always kept the most difficult work for the Fridays, so as to pay his court
+to her with all his strength and all his skill; he no longer spared himself at
+the risk of splitting the anvils in two, as he panted and his loins vibrated
+with the joy he was procuring her. All one spring-time their love thus filled
+Goujet with the rumbling of a storm. It was an idyll amongst giant-like labor
+in the midst of the glare of the coal fire, and of the shaking of the shed, the
+cracking carcass of which was black with soot. All that beaten iron, kneaded
+like red wax, preserved the rough marks of their love. When on the Fridays the
+laundress parted from Golden-Mug, she slowly reascended the Rue des
+Poissonniers, contented and tired, her mind and her body alike tranquil.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Little by little, her fear of Lantier diminished; her good sense got the better
+of her. At that time she would still have led a happy life, had it not been for
+Coupeau, who was decidedly going to the bad. One day she just happened to be
+returning from the forge, when she fancied she recognized Coupeau inside Pere
+Colombe&rsquo;s l&rsquo;Assommoir, in the act of treating himself to a round of
+vitriol in the company of My-Boots, Bibi-the-Smoker, and Salted-Mouth,
+otherwise Drink-without-Thirst. She passed quickly by, so as not to seem to be
+spying on them. But she glanced back; it was indeed Coupeau who was tossing his
+little glass of bad brandy down his throat with a gesture already familiar. He
+lied then; so he went in for brandy now! She returned home in despair; all her
+old dread of brandy took possession of her. She forgave the wine, because wine
+nourishes the workman; all kinds of spirit, on the contrary, were filth,
+poisons which destroyed in the workman the taste for bread. Ah! the government
+ought to prevent the manufacture of such horrid stuff!
+</p>
+
+<p>
+On arriving at the Rue de la Goutte-d&rsquo;Or, she found the whole house
+upset. Her workwomen had left the shop, and were in the courtyard looking up
+above. She questioned Clemence.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;It&rsquo;s old Bijard who&rsquo;s giving his wife a hiding,&rdquo;
+replied the ironer. &ldquo;He was in the doorway, as drunk as a trooper,
+watching for her return from the wash-house. He whacked her up the stairs, and
+now he&rsquo;s finishing her off up there in their room. Listen, can&rsquo;t
+you hear her shrieks?&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Gervaise hastened to the spot. She felt some friendship for her washer-woman,
+Madame Bijard, who was a very courageous woman. She had hoped to put a stop to
+what was going on. Upstairs, on the sixth floor the door of the room was wide
+open, some lodgers were shouting on the landing, whilst Madame Boche, standing
+in front of the door, was calling out:
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Will you leave off? I shall send for the police; do you hear?&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+No one dared to venture inside the room, because it was known that Bijard was
+like a brute beast when he was drunk. As a matter of fact, he was scarcely ever
+sober. The rare days on which he worked, he placed a bottle of brandy beside
+his blacksmith&rsquo;s vise, gulping some of it down every half hour. He could
+not keep himself going any other way. He would have blazed away like a torch if
+anyone had placed a lighted match close to his mouth.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;But we mustn&rsquo;t let her be murdered!&rdquo; said Gervaise, all in a
+tremble.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+And she entered. The room, an attic, and very clean, was bare and cold, almost
+emptied by the drunken habits of the man, who took the very sheets from the bed
+to turn them into liquor. During the struggle the table had rolled away to the
+window, the two chairs, knocked over, had fallen with their legs in the air. In
+the middle of the room, on the tile floor, lay Madame Bijard, all bloody, her
+skirts, still soaked with the water of the wash-house, clinging to her thighs,
+her hair straggling in disorder. She was breathing heavily, with a rattle in
+her throat, as she muttered prolonged ohs! each time she received a blow from
+the heel of Bijard&rsquo;s boot. He had knocked her down with his fists, and
+now he stamped upon her.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Ah, strumpet! Ah, strumpet! Ah strumpet!&rdquo; grunted he in a choking
+voice, accompanying each blow with the word, taking a delight in repeating it,
+and striking all the harder the more he found his voice failing him.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Then when he could no longer speak, he madly continued to kick with a dull
+sound, rigid in his ragged blue blouse and overalls, his face turned purple
+beneath his dirty beard, and his bald forehead streaked with big red blotches.
+The neighbors on the landing related that he was beating her because she had
+refused him twenty sous that morning. Boche&rsquo;s voice was heard at the foot
+of the staircase. He was calling Madame Boche, saying:
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Come down; let them kill each other, it&rsquo;ll be so much scum the
+less.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Meanwhile, Pere Bru had followed Gervaise into the room. Between them they were
+trying to get him towards the door. But he turned round, speechless and foaming
+at the lips, and in his pale eyes the alcohol was blazing with a murderous
+glare. The laundress had her wrist injured; the old workman was knocked against
+the table. On the floor, Madame Bijard was breathing with greater difficulty,
+her mouth wide open, her eyes closed. Now Bijard kept missing her. He had madly
+returned to the attack, but blinded by rage, his blows fell on either side, and
+at times he almost fell when his kicks went into space. And during all this
+onslaught, Gervaise beheld in a corner of the room little Lalie, then four
+years old, watching her father murdering her mother. The child held in her
+arms, as though to protect her, her sister Henriette, only recently weaned. She
+was standing up, her head covered with a cotton cap, her face very pale and
+grave. Her large black eyes gazed with a fixedness full of thought and were
+without a tear.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+When at length Bijard, running against a chair, stumbled onto the tiled floor,
+where they left him snoring, Pere Bru helped Gervaise to raise Madame Bijard.
+The latter was now sobbing bitterly; and Lalie, drawing near, watched her
+crying, being used to such sights and already resigned to them. As the
+laundress descended the stairs, in the silence of the now quieted house, she
+kept seeing before her that look of this child of four, as grave and courageous
+as that of a woman.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Monsieur Coupeau is on the other side of the street,&rdquo; called out
+Clemence as soon as she caught sight of her. &ldquo;He looks awfully
+drunk.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Coupeau was just then crossing the street. He almost smashed a pane of glass
+with his shoulder as he missed the door. He was in a state of complete
+drunkenness, with his teeth clinched and his nose inflamed. And Gervaise at
+once recognized the vitriol of l&rsquo;Assommoir in the poisoned blood which
+paled his skin. She tried to joke and get him to bed, the same as on the days
+when the wine had made him merry; but he pushed her aside without opening his
+lips, and raised his fist in passing as he went to bed of his own accord. He
+made Gervaise think of the other&mdash;the drunkard who was snoring upstairs,
+tired out by the blows he had struck. A cold shiver passed over her. She
+thought of the men she knew&mdash;of her husband, of Goujet, of
+Lantier&mdash;her heart breaking, despairing of ever being happy.
+</p>
+
+</div><!--end chapter-->
+
+<div class="chapter">
+
+<h2><a name="link2HCH0007" id="link2HCH0007"></a>
+CHAPTER VII.</h2>
+
+<p>
+Gervaise&rsquo;s saint&rsquo;s day fell on the 19th of June. On such occasions,
+the Coupeaus always made a grand display; they feasted till they were as round
+as balls, and their stomachs were filled for the rest of the week. There was a
+complete clear out of all the money they had. The moment there were a few sous
+in the house they went in gorging. They invented saints for those days which
+the almanac had not provided with any, just for the sake of giving themselves a
+pretext for gormandizing. Virginie highly commended Gervaise for stuffing
+herself with all sorts of savory dishes. When one has a husband who turns all
+he can lay hands on into drink, it&rsquo;s good to line one&rsquo;s stomach
+well, and not to let everything go off in liquids. Since the money would
+disappear anyway, surely it was better to pay it to the butcher. Gervaise used
+that excuse to justify overeating, saying it was Coupeau&rsquo;s fault if they
+could no longer save a sou. She had grown considerably fatter, and she limped
+more than before because her leg, now swollen with fat, seemed to be getting
+gradually shorter.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+That year they talked about her saint&rsquo;s day a good month beforehand. They
+thought of dishes and smacked their lips in advance. All the shop had a
+confounded longing to junket. They wanted a merry-making of the right
+sort&mdash;something out of the ordinary and highly successful. One does not
+have so many opportunities for enjoyment. What most troubled the laundress was
+to decide whom to invite; she wished to have twelve persons at table, no more,
+no less. She, her husband, mother Coupeau, and Madame Lerat, already made four
+members of the family. She would also have the Goujets and the Poissons.
+Originally, she had decided not to invite her workwomen, Madame Putois and
+Clemence, so as not to make them too familiar; but as the projected feast was
+being constantly spoken of in their presence, and their mouths watered, she
+ended by telling them to come. Four and four, eight, and two are ten. Then,
+wishing particularly to have twelve, she became reconciled with the Lorilleuxs,
+who for some time past had been hovering around her; at least it was agreed
+that the Lorilleuxs should come to dinner, and that peace should be made with
+glasses in hand. You really shouldn&rsquo;t keep family quarrels going forever.
+When the Boches heard that a reconciliation was planned, they also sought to
+make up with Gervaise, and so they had to be invited to the dinner too. That
+would make fourteen, not counting the children. Never before had she given such
+a large dinner and the thought frightened and excited her at the same time.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The saint&rsquo;s day happened to fall on a Monday. It was a piece of luck.
+Gervaise counted on the Sunday afternoon to begin the cooking. On the Saturday,
+whilst the workwomen hurried with their work, there was a long discussion in
+the shop with the view of finally deciding upon what the feast should consist
+of. For three weeks past one thing alone had been chosen&mdash;a fat roast
+goose. There was a gluttonous look on every face whenever it was mentioned. The
+goose was even already bought. Mother Coupeau went and fetched it to let
+Clemence and Madame Putois feel its weight. And they uttered all kinds of
+exclamations; it looked such an enormous bird, with its rough skin all swelled
+out with yellow fat.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Before that there will be the pot-au-feu,&rdquo; said Gervaise,
+&ldquo;the soup and just a small piece of boiled beef, it&rsquo;s always good.
+Then we must have something in the way of a stew.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Tall Clemence suggested rabbit, but they were always having that, everyone was
+sick of it. Gervaise wanted something more distinguished. Madame Putois having
+spoken of stewed veal, they looked at one another with broad smiles. It was a
+real idea, nothing would make a better impression than a veal stew.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;And after that,&rdquo; resumed Gervaise, &ldquo;we must have some other
+dish with a sauce.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Mother Coupeau proposed fish. But the others made a grimace, as they banged
+down their irons. None of them liked fish; it was not a bit satisfying; and
+besides that it was full of bones. Squint-eyed Augustine, having dared to
+observe that she liked skate, Clemence shut her mouth for her with a good sound
+clout. At length the mistress thought of stewed pig&rsquo;s back and potatoes,
+which restored the smiles to every countenance. Then Virginie entered like a
+puff of wind, with a strange look on her face.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;You&rsquo;ve come just at the right time!&rdquo; exclaimed Gervaise.
+&ldquo;Mother Coupeau, do show her the bird.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+And mother Coupeau went a second time and fetched the goose, which Virginie had
+to take in her hands. She uttered no end of exclamations. By Jove! It was
+heavy! But she soon laid it down on the work-table, between a petticoat and a
+bundle of shirts. Her thoughts were elsewhere. She dragged Gervaise into the
+back-room.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;I say, little one,&rdquo; murmured she rapidly, &ldquo;I&rsquo;ve come
+to warn you. You&rsquo;ll never guess who I just met at the corner of the
+street. Lantier, my dear! He&rsquo;s hovering about on the watch; so I hastened
+here at once. It frightened me on your account, you know.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The laundress turned quite pale. What could the wretched man want with her?
+Coming, too, like that, just in the midst of the preparations for the feast.
+She had never had any luck; she could not even be allowed to enjoy herself
+quietly. But Virginie replied that she was very foolish to put herself out
+about it like that. Why! If Lantier dared to follow her about, all she had to
+do was to call a policeman and have him locked up. In the month since her
+husband had been appointed a policeman, Virginie had assumed rather lordly
+manners and talked of arresting everybody. She began to raise her voice, saying
+that she wished some passer-by would pinch her bottom so that she could take
+the fresh fellow to the police station herself and turn him over to her
+husband. Gervaise signaled her to be quiet since the workwomen were listening
+and led the way back into the shop, reopening the discussion about the dinner.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Now, don&rsquo;t we need a vegetable?&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Why not peas with bacon?&rdquo; said Virginie. &ldquo;I like nothing
+better.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Yes, peas with bacon.&rdquo; The others approved. Augustine was so
+enthusiastic that she jabbed the poker into the stove harder than ever.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+By three o&rsquo;clock on the morrow, Sunday, mother Coupeau had lighted their
+two stoves and also a third one of earthenware which they had borrowed from the
+Boches. At half-past three the pot-au-feu was boiling away in an enormous
+earthenware pot lent by the eating-house keeper next door, the family pot
+having been found too small. They had decided to cook the veal and the
+pig&rsquo;s back the night before, since both of those dishes are better when
+reheated. But the cream sauce for the veal would not be prepared until just
+before sitting down for the feast.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+There was still plenty of work left for Monday: the soup, the peas with bacon,
+the roast goose. The inner room was lit by three fires. Butter was sizzling in
+the pans and emitting a sharp odor of burnt flour.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Mother Coupeau and Gervaise, with white aprons tied on, were bustling all
+around, cleaning parsley, dashing for salt and pepper, turning the meat. They
+had sent Coupeau away so as not to have him underfoot, but they still had
+plenty of people looking in throughout the afternoon. The luscious smells from
+the kitchen had spread through the entire building so that neighboring ladies
+came into the shop on various pretexts, very curious to see what was being
+cooked.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Virginie put in an appearance towards five o&rsquo;clock. She had again seen
+Lantier; really, it was impossible to go down the street now without meeting
+him. Madame Boche also had just caught sight of him standing at the corner of
+the pavement with his head thrust forward in an uncommonly sly manner. Then
+Gervaise who had at that moment intended going for a sou&rsquo;s worth of burnt
+onions for the pot-au-feu, began to tremble from head to foot and did not dare
+leave the house; the more so, as the concierge and the dressmaker put her into
+a terrible fright by relating horrible stories of men waiting for women with
+knives and pistols hidden beneath their overcoats. Well, yes! one reads of such
+things every day in the newspapers. When one of those scoundrels gets his
+monkey up on discovering an old love leading a happy life he becomes capable of
+everything. Virginie obligingly offered to run and fetch the burnt onions.
+Women should always help one another, they could not let that little thing be
+murdered. When she returned she said that Lantier was no longer there; he had
+probably gone off on finding he was discovered. In spite of that thought, he
+was the subject of conversation around the saucepans until night-time. When
+Madame Boche advised her to inform Coupeau, Gervaise became really terrified,
+and implored her not to say a word about it. Oh, yes, wouldn&rsquo;t that be a
+nice situation! Her husband must have become suspicious already because for the
+last few days, at night, he would swear to himself and bang the wall with his
+fists. The mere thought that the two men might destroy each other because of
+her made her shudder. She knew that Coupeau was jealous enough to attack
+Lantier with his shears.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+While the four of them had been deep in contemplating this drama, the saucepans
+on the banked coals of the stoves had been quietly simmering. When mother
+Coupeau lifted the lids, the veal and the pig&rsquo;s back were discreetly
+bubbling. The pot-au-feu was steadily steaming with snore-like sounds.
+Eventually each of them dipped a piece of bread into the soup to taste the
+bouillon.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+At length Monday arrived. Now that Gervaise was going to have fourteen persons
+at table, she began to fear that she would not be able to find room for them
+all. She decided that they should dine in the shop; and the first thing in the
+morning she took measurements so as to settle which way she should place the
+table. After that they had to remove all the clothes and take the ironing-table
+to pieces; the top of this laid on to some shorter trestles was to be the
+dining-table. But just in the midst of all this moving a customer appeared and
+made a scene because she had been waiting for her washing ever since the
+Friday; they were humbugging her, she would have her things at once. Then
+Gervaise tried to excuse herself and lied boldly; it was not her fault, she was
+cleaning out her shop, the workmen would not be there till the morrow; and she
+pacified her customer and got rid of her by promising to busy herself with her
+things at the earliest possible moment. Then, as soon as the woman had left,
+she showed her temper. Really, if you listened to all your customers,
+you&rsquo;d never have time to eat. You could work yourself to death like a dog
+on a leash! Well! No matter who came in to-day, even if they offered one
+hundred thousand francs, she wouldn&rsquo;t touch an iron on this Monday,
+because it was her turn to enjoy herself.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The entire morning was spent in completing the purchases. Three times Gervaise
+went out and returned laden like a mule. But just as she was going to order
+wine she noticed that she had not sufficient money left. She could easily have
+got it on credit; only she could not be without money in the house, on account
+of the thousand little expenses that one is liable to forget. And mother
+Coupeau and she had lamented together in the back-room as they reckoned that
+they required at least twenty francs. How could they obtain them, those four
+pieces of a hundred sous each? Mother Coupeau who had at one time done the
+charring for a little actress of the Theatre des Batignolles, was the first to
+suggest the pawn-shop. Gervaise laughed with relief. How stupid she was not to
+have thought of it! She quickly folded her black silk dress upon a towel which
+she then pinned together. Then she hid the bundle under mother Coupeau&rsquo;s
+apron, telling her to keep it very flat against her stomach, on account of the
+neighbors who had no need to know; and she went and watched at the door to see
+that the old woman was not followed. But the latter had only gone as far as the
+charcoal dealer&rsquo;s when she called her back.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Mamma! Mamma!&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+She made her return to the shop, and taking her wedding-ring off her finger
+said:
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Here, put this with it. We shall get all the more.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+When mother Coupeau brought her twenty-five francs, she danced for joy. She
+would order an extra six bottles of wine, sealed wine to drink with the roast.
+The Lorilleuxs would be crushed.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+For a fortnight past it had been the Coupeaus&rsquo; dream to crush the
+Lorilleuxs. Was it not true that those sly ones, the man and his wife, a truly
+pretty couple, shut themselves up whenever they had anything nice to eat as
+though they had stolen it? Yes, they covered up the window with a blanket to
+hide the light and make believe that they were already asleep in bed. This
+stopped anyone from coming up, and so the Lorilleuxs could stuff everything
+down, just the two of them. They were even careful the next day not to throw
+the bones into the garbage so that no one would know what they had eaten.
+Madame Lorilleux would walk to the end of the street to toss them into a sewer
+opening. One morning Gervaise surprised her emptying a basket of oyster shells
+there. Oh, those penny-pinchers were never open-handed, and all their mean
+contrivances came from their desire to appear to be poor. Well, we&rsquo;d show
+them, we&rsquo;d prove to them that we weren&rsquo;t mean.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Gervaise would have laid her table in the street, had she been able to, just
+for the sake of inviting each passer-by. Money was not invented that it should
+be allowed to grow moldy, was it? It is pretty when it shines all new in the
+sunshine. She resembled them so little now, that on the days when she had
+twenty sous she arranged things to let people think that she had forty.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Mother Coupeau and Gervaise talked of the Lorilleuxs whilst they laid the cloth
+about three o&rsquo;clock. They had hung some big curtains at the windows; but
+as it was very warm the door was left open and the whole street passed in front
+of the little table. The two women did not place a decanter, or a bottle, or a
+salt-cellar, without trying to arrange them in such a way as to annoy the
+Lorilleuxs. They had arranged their seats so as to give them a full view of the
+superbly laid cloth, and they had reserved the best crockery for them, well
+knowing that the porcelain plates would create a great effect.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;No, no, mamma,&rdquo; cried Gervaise; &ldquo;don&rsquo;t give them those
+napkins! I&rsquo;ve two damask ones.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Ah, good!&rdquo; murmured the old woman; &ldquo;that&rsquo;ll break
+their hearts, that&rsquo;s certain.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+And they smiled to each other as they stood up on either side of that big white
+table on which the fourteen knives and forks, placed all round, caused them to
+swell with pride. It had the appearance of the altar of some chapel in the
+middle of the shop.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;That&rsquo;s because they&rsquo;re so stingy themselves!&rdquo; resumed
+Gervaise. &ldquo;You know they lied last month when the woman went about
+everywhere saying that she had lost a piece of gold chain as she was taking the
+work home. The idea! There&rsquo;s no fear of her ever losing anything! It was
+simply a way of making themselves out very poor and of not giving you your five
+francs.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;As yet I&rsquo;ve only seen my five francs twice,&rdquo; said mother
+Coupeau.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;I&rsquo;ll bet next month they&rsquo;ll concoct some other story. That
+explains why they cover their window up when they have a rabbit to eat.
+Don&rsquo;t you see? One would have the right to say to them: &lsquo;As you can
+afford a rabbit you can certainly give five francs to your mother!&rsquo; Oh!
+they&rsquo;re just rotten! What would have become of you if I hadn&rsquo;t
+taken you to live with us?&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Mother Coupeau slowly shook her head. That day she was all against the
+Lorilleuxs, because of the great feast the Coupeaus were giving. She loved
+cooking, the little gossipings round the saucepans, the place turned
+topsy-turvy by the revels of saints&rsquo; days. Besides she generally got on
+pretty well with Gervaise. On other days when they plagued one another as
+happens in all families, the old woman grumbled saying she was wretchedly
+unfortunate in thus being at her daughter-in-law&rsquo;s mercy. In point of
+fact she probably had some affection for Madame Lorilleux who after all was her
+daughter.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Ah!&rdquo; continued Gervaise, &ldquo;you wouldn&rsquo;t be so fat,
+would you, if you were living with them? And no coffee, no snuff, no little
+luxuries of any sort! Tell me, would they have given you two mattresses to your
+bed?&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;No, that&rsquo;s very certain,&rdquo; replied mother Coupeau.
+&ldquo;When they arrive I shall place myself so as to have a good view of the
+door to see the faces they&rsquo;ll make.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Thinking of the faces they would make gave them pleasure ahead of time.
+However, they couldn&rsquo;t remain standing there admiring the table. The
+Coupeaus had lunched very late on just a bite or two, because the stoves were
+already in use, and because they did not want to dirty any dishes needed for
+the evening. By four o&rsquo;clock the two women were working very hard. The
+huge goose was being cooked on a spit. Squint-eyed Augustine was sitting on a
+low bench solemnly basting the goose with a long-handled spoon. Gervaise was
+busy with the peas with bacon. Mother Coupeau, kept spinning around, a bit
+confused, waiting for the right time to begin reheating the pork and the veal.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Towards five o&rsquo;clock the guests began to arrive. First of all came the
+two workwomen, Clemence and Madame Putois, both in their Sunday best, the
+former in blue, the latter in black; Clemence carried a geranium, Madame Putois
+a heliotrope, and Gervaise, whose hands were just then smothered with flour,
+had to kiss each of them on both cheeks with her arms behind her back. Then
+following close upon their heels entered Virginie dressed like a lady in a
+printed muslin costume with a sash and a bonnet though she had only a few steps
+to come. She brought a pot of red carnations. She took the laundress in her big
+arms and squeezed her tight. At length Boche appeared with a pot of pansies and
+Madame Boche with a pot of mignonette; then came Madame Lerat with a balm-mint,
+the pot of which had dirtied her violet merino dress. All these people kissed
+each other and gathered together in the back-room in the midst of the three
+stoves and the roasting apparatus, which gave out a stifling heat. The noise
+from the saucepans drowned the voices. A dress catching in the Dutch oven
+caused quite an emotion. The smell of roast goose was so strong that it made
+their mouths water. And Gervaise was very pleasant, thanking everyone for their
+flowers without however letting that interfere with her preparing the
+thickening for the stewed veal at the bottom of a soup plate. She had placed
+the pots in the shop at one end of the table without removing the white paper
+that was round them. A sweet scent of flowers mingled with the odor of cooking.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Do you want any assistance?&rdquo; asked Virginie. &ldquo;Just fancy,
+you&rsquo;ve been three days preparing all this feast and it will be gobbled up
+in no time.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Well, you know,&rdquo; replied Gervaise, &ldquo;it wouldn&rsquo;t
+prepare itself. No, don&rsquo;t dirty your hands. You see everything&rsquo;s
+ready. There&rsquo;s only the soup to warm.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Then they all made themselves comfortable. The ladies laid their shawls and
+their caps on the bed and pinned up their skirts so as not to soil them. Boche
+sent his wife back to the concierge&rsquo;s lodge until time to eat and had
+cornered Clemence in a corner trying to find out if she was ticklish. She was
+gasping for breath, as the mere thought of being tickled sent shivers through
+her. So as not to bother the cooks, the other ladies had gone into the shop and
+were standing against the wall facing the table. They were talking through the
+door though, and as they could not hear very well, they were continually
+invading the back-room and crowding around Gervaise, who would forget what she
+was doing to answer them.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+There were a few stories which brought sly laughter. When Virginie mentioned
+that she hadn&rsquo;t eaten for two days in order to have more room for
+today&rsquo;s feast, tall Clemence said that she had cleaned herself out that
+morning with an enema like the English do. Then Boche suggested a way of
+digesting the food quickly by squeezing oneself after each course, another
+English custom. After all, when you were invited to dinner, wasn&rsquo;t it
+polite to eat as much as you could? Veal and pork and goose are placed out for
+the cats to eat. The hostess didn&rsquo;t need to worry a bit, they were going
+to clean their plates so thoroughly that she wouldn&rsquo;t have to wash them.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+All of them kept coming to smell the air above the saucepans and the roaster.
+The ladies began to act like young girls, scurrying from room to room and
+pushing each other.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Just as they were all jumping about and shouting by way of amusement, Goujet
+appeared. He was so timid he scarcely dared enter, but stood still, holding a
+tall white rose-tree in his arms, a magnificent plant with a stem that reached
+to his face and entangled the flowers in his beard. Gervaise ran to him, her
+cheeks burning from the heat of the stoves. But he did not know how to get rid
+of his pot; and when she had taken it from his hands he stammered, not daring
+to kiss her. It was she who was obliged to stand on tip-toe and place her cheek
+against his lips; he was so agitated that even then he kissed her roughly on
+the eye almost blinding her. They both stood trembling.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Oh! Monsieur Goujet, it&rsquo;s too lovely!&rdquo; said she, placing the
+rose-tree beside the other flowers which it overtopped with the whole of its
+tuft of foliage.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Not at all, not at all!&rdquo; repeated he, unable to say anything else.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Then, after sighing deeply, he slightly recovered himself and stated that she
+was not to expect his mother; she was suffering from an attack of sciatica.
+Gervaise was greatly grieved; she talked of putting a piece of the goose on one
+side as she particularly wished Madame Goujet to have a taste of the bird. No
+one else was expected. Coupeau was no doubt strolling about in the neighborhood
+with Poisson whom he had called for directly after his lunch; they would be
+home directly, they had promised to be back punctually at six. Then as the soup
+was almost ready, Gervaise called to Madame Lerat, saying that she thought it
+was time to go and fetch the Lorilleuxs. Madame Lerat became at once very
+grave; it was she who had conducted all the negotiations and who had settled
+how everything should pass between the two families. She put her cap and shawl
+on again and went upstairs very stiffly in her skirts, looking very stately.
+Down below the laundress continued to stir her vermicelli soup without saying a
+word. The guests suddenly became serious and solemnly waited.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+It was Madame Lerat who appeared first. She had gone round by the street so as
+to give more pomp to the reconciliation. She held the shop-door wide open
+whilst Madame Lorilleux, wearing a silk dress, stopped at the threshold. All
+the guests had risen from their seats; Gervaise went forward and kissing her
+sister-in-law as had been agreed, said:
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Come in. It&rsquo;s all over, isn&rsquo;t it? We&rsquo;ll both be nice
+to each other.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+And Madame Lorilleux replied:
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;I shall be only too happy if we&rsquo;re so always.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+When she had entered Lorilleux also stopped at the threshold and he likewise
+waited to be embraced before penetrating into the shop. Neither the one nor the
+other had brought a bouquet. They had decided not to do so as they thought it
+would look too much like giving way to Clump-clump if they carried flowers with
+them the first time they set foot in her home. Gervaise called to Augustine to
+bring two bottles of wine. Then, filling some glasses on a corner of the table,
+she called everyone to her. And each took a glass and drank to the good
+friendship of the family. There was a pause whilst the guests were drinking,
+the ladies raising their elbows and emptying their glasses to the last drop.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Nothing is better before soup,&rdquo; declared Boche, smacking his lips.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Mother Coupeau had placed herself opposite the door to see the faces the
+Lorilleuxs would make. She pulled Gervaise by the skirt and dragged her into
+the back-room. And as they both leant over the soup they conversed rapidly in a
+low voice.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Huh! What a sight!&rdquo; said the old woman. &ldquo;You couldn&rsquo;t
+see them; but I was watching. When she caught sight of the table her face
+twisted around like that, the corners of her mouth almost touched her eyes; and
+as for him, it nearly choked him, he coughed and coughed. Now just look at them
+over there; they&rsquo;ve no saliva left in their mouths, they&rsquo;re chewing
+their lips.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;It&rsquo;s quite painful to see people as jealous as that,&rdquo;
+murmured Gervaise.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Really the Lorilleuxs had a funny look about them. No one of course likes to be
+crushed; in families especially when the one succeeds, the others do not like
+it; that is only natural. Only one keeps it in, one does not make an exhibition
+of oneself. Well! The Lorilleuxs could not keep it in. It was more than a match
+for them. They squinted&mdash;their mouths were all on one side. In short it
+was so apparent that the other guests looked at them, and asked them if they
+were unwell. Never would they be able to stomach this table with its fourteen
+place-settings, its white linen table cloth, its slices of bread cut in
+advance, all in the style of a first-class restaurant. Mme. Lorilleux went
+around the table, surreptitiously fingering the table cloth, tortured by the
+thought that it was a new one.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Everything&rsquo;s ready!&rdquo; cried Gervaise as she reappeared with a
+smile, her arms bare and her little fair curls blowing over her temples.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;If the boss would only come,&rdquo; resumed the laundress, &ldquo;we
+might begin.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Ah, well!&rdquo; said Madame Lorilleux, &ldquo;the soup will be cold by
+then. Coupeau always forgets. You shouldn&rsquo;t have let him go off.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+It was already half-past six. Everything was burning now; the goose would be
+overdone. Then Gervaise, feeling quite dejected, talked of sending someone to
+all the wineshops in the neighborhood to find Coupeau. And as Goujet offered to
+go, she decided to accompany him. Virginie, anxious about her husband went
+also. The three of them, bareheaded, quite blocked up the pavement. The
+blacksmith who wore his frock-coat, had Gervaise on his left arm and Virginie
+on his right; he was doing the two-handled basket as he said; and it seemed to
+them such a funny thing to say that they stopped, unable to move their legs for
+laughing. They looked at themselves in the pork-butcher&rsquo;s glass and
+laughed more than ever. Beside Goujet, all in black, the two women looked like
+two speckled hens&mdash;the dressmaker in her muslin costume, sprinkled with
+pink flowers, the laundress in her white cambric dress with blue spots, her
+wrists bare, and wearing round her neck a little grey silk scarf tied in a bow.
+People turned round to see them pass, looking so fresh and lively, dressed in
+their Sunday best on a week day and jostling the crowd which hung about the Rue
+des Poissonniers, on that warm June evening. But it was not a question of
+amusing themselves. They went straight to the door of each wineshop, looked in
+and sought amongst the people standing before the counter. Had that animal
+Coupeau gone to the Arc de Triomphe to get his dram? They had already done the
+upper part of the street, looking in at all the likely places; at the
+&ldquo;Little Civet,&rdquo; renowned for its preserved plums; at old mother
+Baquet&rsquo;s, who sold Orleans wine at eight sous; at the
+&ldquo;Butterfly,&rdquo; the coachmen&rsquo;s house of call, gentlemen who were
+not easy to please. But no Coupeau. Then as they were going down towards the
+Boulevard, Gervaise uttered a faint cry on passing the eating-house at the
+corner kept by Francois.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;What&rsquo;s the matter?&rdquo; asked Goujet.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The laundress no longer laughed. She was very pale, and laboring under so great
+an emotion that she had almost fallen. Virginie understood it all as she caught
+a sight of Lantier seated at one of Francois&rsquo;s tables quietly dining. The
+two women dragged the blacksmith along.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;My ankle twisted,&rdquo; said Gervaise as soon as she was able to speak.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+At length they discovered Coupeau and Poisson at the bottom of the street
+inside Pere Colombe&rsquo;s l&rsquo;Assommoir. They were standing up in the
+midst of a number of men; Coupeau, in a grey blouse, was shouting with furious
+gestures and banging his fists down on the counter. Poisson, not on duty that
+day and buttoned up in an old brown coat, was listening to him in a dull sort
+of way and without uttering a word, bristling his carroty moustaches and beard
+the while. Goujet left the women on the edge of the pavement, and went and laid
+his hand on the zinc-worker&rsquo;s shoulder. But when the latter caught sight
+of Gervaise and Virginie outside he grew angry. Why was he badgered with such
+females as those? Petticoats had taken to tracking him about now! Well! He
+declined to stir, they could go and eat their beastly dinner all by themselves.
+To quiet him Goujet was obliged to accept a drop of something; and even then
+Coupeau took a fiendish delight in dawdling a good five minutes at the counter.
+When he at length came out he said to his wife:
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;I don&rsquo;t like this. It&rsquo;s my business where I go. Do you
+understand?&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+She did not answer. She was all in a tremble. She must have said something
+about Lantier to Virginie, for the latter pushed her husband and Goujet ahead,
+telling them to walk in front. The two women got on each side of Coupeau to
+keep him occupied and prevent him seeing Lantier. He wasn&rsquo;t really drunk,
+being more intoxicated from shouting than from drinking. Since they seemed to
+want to stay on the left side, to tease them, he crossed over to the other side
+of the street. Worried, they ran after him and tried to block his view of the
+door of Francois&rsquo;s. But Coupeau must have known that Lantier was there.
+Gervaise almost went out of her senses on hearing him grunt:
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Yes, my duck, there&rsquo;s a young fellow of our acquaintance inside
+there! You mustn&rsquo;t take me for a ninny. Don&rsquo;t let me catch you
+gallivanting about again with your side glances!&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+And he made use of some very coarse expressions. It was not him that she had
+come to look for with her bare elbows and her mealy mouth; it was her old beau.
+Then he was suddenly seized with a mad rage against Lantier. Ah! the brigand!
+Ah! the filthy hound! One or the other of them would have to be left on the
+pavement, emptied of his guts like a rabbit. Lantier, however, did not appear
+to notice what was going on and continued slowly eating some veal and sorrel. A
+crowd began to form. Virginie led Coupeau away and he calmed down at once as
+soon as he had turned the corner of the street. All the same they returned to
+the shop far less lively than when they left it.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The guests were standing round the table with very long faces. The zinc-worker
+shook hands with them, showing himself off before the ladies. Gervaise, feeling
+rather depressed, spoke in a low voice as she directed them to their places.
+But she suddenly noticed that, as Madame Goujet had not come, a seat would
+remain empty&mdash;the one next to Madame Lorilleux.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;We are thirteen!&rdquo; said she, deeply affected, seeing in that a
+fresh omen of the misfortune with which she had felt herself threatened for
+some time past.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The ladies already seated rose up looking anxious and annoyed. Madame Putois
+offered to retire because according to her it was not a matter to laugh about;
+besides she would not touch a thing, the food would do her no good. As to
+Boche, he chuckled. He would sooner be thirteen than fourteen; the portions
+would be larger, that was all.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Wait!&rdquo; resumed Gervaise. &ldquo;I can manage it.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+And going out on to the pavement she called Pere Bru who was just then crossing
+the roadway. The old workman entered, stooping and stiff and his face without
+expression.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Seat yourself there, my good fellow,&rdquo; said the laundress.
+&ldquo;You won&rsquo;t mind eating with us, will you?&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+He simply nodded his head. He was willing; he did not mind.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;As well him as another,&rdquo; continued she, lowering her voice.
+&ldquo;He doesn&rsquo;t often eat his fill. He will at least enjoy himself once
+more. We shall feel no remorse in stuffing ourselves now.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+This touched Goujet so deeply that his eyes filled with tears. The others were
+also moved by compassion and said that it would bring them all good luck.
+However, Madame Lorilleux seemed unhappy at having the old man next to her. She
+cast glances of disgust at his work-roughened hands and his faded, patched
+smock, and drew away from him.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Pere Bru sat with his head bowed, waiting. He was bothered by the napkin that
+was on the plate before him. Finally he lifted it off and placed it gently on
+the edge of the table, not thinking to spread it over his knees.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Now at last Gervaise served the vermicelli soup; the guests were taking up
+their spoons when Virginie remarked that Coupeau had disappeared. He had
+perhaps returned to Pere Colombe&rsquo;s. This time the company got angry. So
+much the worse! One would not run after him; he could stay in the street if he
+was not hungry; and as the spoons touched the bottom of the plates, Coupeau
+reappeared with two pots of flowers, one under each arm, a stock and a balsam.
+They all clapped their hands. He gallantly placed the pots, one on the right,
+the other on the left of Gervaise&rsquo;s glass; then bending over and kissing
+her, he said:
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;I had forgotten you, my lamb. But in spite of that, we love each other
+all the same, especially on such a day as this.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Monsieur Coupeau&rsquo;s very nice this evening,&rdquo; murmured
+Clemence in Boche&rsquo;s ear. &ldquo;He&rsquo;s just got what he required,
+sufficient to make him amiable.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The good behavior of the master of the house restored the gaiety of the
+proceedings, which at one moment had been compromised. Gervaise, once more at
+her ease, was all smiles again. The guests finished their soup. Then the
+bottles circulated and they drank their first glass of wine, just a drop pure,
+to wash down the vermicelli. One could hear the children quarrelling in the
+next room. There were Etienne, Pauline, Nana and little Victor Fauconnier. It
+had been decided to lay a table for the four of them, and they had been told to
+be very good. That squint-eyed Augustine who had to look after the stoves was
+to eat off her knees.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Mamma! Mamma!&rdquo; suddenly screamed Nana, &ldquo;Augustine is dipping
+her bread in the Dutch oven!&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The laundress hastened there and caught the squint-eyed one in the act of
+burning her throat in her attempts to swallow without loss of time a slice of
+bread soaked in boiling goose fat. She boxed her ears when the young monkey
+called out that it was not true. When, after the boiled beef, the stewed veal
+appeared, served in a salad-bowl, as they did not have a dish large enough, the
+party greeted it with a laugh.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;It&rsquo;s becoming serious,&rdquo; declared Poisson, who seldom spoke.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+It was half-past seven. They had closed the shop door, so as not to be spied
+upon by the whole neighborhood; the little clockmaker opposite especially was
+opening his eyes to their full size and seemed to take the pieces from their
+mouths with such a gluttonous look that it almost prevented them from eating.
+The curtains hung before the windows admitted a great white uniform light which
+bathed the entire table with its symmetrical arrangement of knives and forks
+and its pots of flowers enveloped in tall collars of white paper; and this pale
+fading light, this slowly approaching dusk, gave to the party somewhat of an
+air of distinction. Virginie looked round the closed apartment hung with muslin
+and with a happy criticism declared it to be very cozy. Whenever a cart passed
+in the street the glasses jingled together on the table cloth and the ladies
+were obliged to shout out as loud as the men. But there was not much
+conversation; they all behaved very respectably and were very attentive to each
+other. Coupeau alone wore a blouse, because as he said one need not stand on
+ceremony with friends and besides which the blouse was the workman&rsquo;s garb
+of honor. The ladies, laced up in their bodices, wore their hair in plaits
+greasy with pomatum in which the daylight was reflected; whilst the gentlemen,
+sitting at a distance from the table, swelled out their chests and kept their
+elbows wide apart for fear of staining their frock coats.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Ah! thunder! What a hole they were making in the stewed veal! If they spoke
+little, they were chewing in earnest. The salad-bowl was becoming emptier and
+emptier with a spoon stuck in the midst of the thick sauce&mdash;a good yellow
+sauce which quivered like a jelly. They fished pieces of veal out of it and
+seemed as though they would never come to the end; the salad-bowl journeyed
+from hand to hand and faces bent over it as forks picked out the mushrooms. The
+long loaves standing against the wall behind the guests appeared to melt away.
+Between the mouthfuls one could hear the sound of glasses being replaced on the
+table. The sauce was a trifle too salty. It required four bottles of wine to
+drown that blessed stewed veal, which went down like cream, but which
+afterwards lit up a regular conflagration in one&rsquo;s stomach. And before
+one had time to take a breath, the pig&rsquo;s back, in the middle of a deep
+dish surrounded by big round potatoes, arrived in the midst of a cloud of
+smoke. There was one general cry. By Jove! It was just the thing! Everyone
+liked it. They would do it justice; and they followed the dish with a side
+glance as they wiped their knives on their bread so as to be in readiness. Then
+as soon as they were helped they nudged one another and spoke with their mouths
+full. It was just like butter! Something sweet and solid which one could feel
+run through one&rsquo;s guts right down into one&rsquo;s boots. The potatoes
+were like sugar. It was not a bit salty; only, just on account of the potatoes,
+it required a wetting every few minutes. Four more bottles were placed on the
+table. The plates were wiped so clean that they also served for the green peas
+and bacon. Oh! vegetables were of no consequence. They playfully gulped them
+down in spoonfuls. The best part of the dish was the small pieces of bacon just
+nicely grilled and smelling like horse&rsquo;s hoof. Two bottles were
+sufficient for them.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Mamma! Mamma!&rdquo; called out Nana suddenly, &ldquo;Augustine&rsquo;s
+putting her fingers in my plate!&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Don&rsquo;t bother me! give her a slap!&rdquo; replied Gervaise, in the
+act of stuffing herself with green peas.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+At the children&rsquo;s table in the back-room, Nana was playing the role of
+lady of the house, sitting next to Victor and putting her brother Etienne
+beside Pauline so they could play house, pretending they were two married
+couples. Nana had served her guests very politely at first, but now she had
+given way to her passion for grilled bacon, trying to keep every piece for
+herself. While Augustine was prowling around the children&rsquo;s table, she
+would grab the bits of bacon under the pretext of dividing them amongst the
+children. Nana was so furious that she bit Augustine on the wrist.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Ah! you know,&rdquo; murmured Augustine, &ldquo;I&rsquo;ll tell your
+mother that after the veal you asked Victor to kiss you.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+But all became quiet again as Gervaise and mother Coupeau came in to get the
+goose. The guests at the big table were leaning back in their chairs taking a
+breather. The men had unbuttoned their waistcoats, the ladies were wiping their
+faces with their napkins. The repast was, so to say, interrupted; only one or
+two persons, unable to keep their jaws still, continued to swallow large
+mouthfuls of bread, without even knowing that they were doing so. The others
+were waiting and allowing their food to settle while waiting for the main
+course. Night was slowly coming on; a dirty ashy grey light was gathering
+behind the curtains. When Augustine brought two lamps and placed one at each
+end of the table, the general disorder became apparent in the bright
+glare&mdash;the greasy forks and plates, the table cloth stained with wine and
+covered with crumbs. A strong stifling odor pervaded the room. Certain warm
+fumes, however, attracted all the noses in the direction of the kitchen.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Can I help you?&rdquo; cried Virginie.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+She left her chair and passed into the inner room. All the women followed one
+by one. They surrounded the Dutch oven, and watched with profound interest as
+Gervaise and mother Coupeau tried to pull the bird out. Then a clamor arose, in
+the midst of which one could distinguish the shrill voices and the joyful leaps
+of the children. And there was a triumphal entry. Gervaise carried the goose,
+her arms stiff, and her perspiring face expanded in one broad silent laugh; the
+women walked behind her, laughing in the same way; whilst Nana, right at the
+end, raised herself up to see, her eyes open to their full extent. When the
+enormous golden goose, streaming with gravy, was on the table, they did not
+attack it at once. It was a wonder, a respectful wonderment, which for a moment
+left everyone speechless. They drew one another&rsquo;s attention to it with
+winks and nods of the head. Golly! What a bird!
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;That one didn&rsquo;t get fat by licking the walls, I&rsquo;ll
+bet!&rdquo; said Boche.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Then they entered into details respecting the bird. Gervaise gave the facts. It
+was the best she could get at the poulterer&rsquo;s in the Faubourg
+Poissonniers; it weighed twelve and a half pounds on the scales at the
+charcoal-dealer&rsquo;s; they had burnt nearly half a bushel of charcoal in
+cooking it, and it had given three bowls full of drippings.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Virginie interrupted her to boast of having seen it before it was cooked.
+&ldquo;You could have eaten it just as it was,&rdquo; she said, &ldquo;its skin
+was so fine, like the skin of a blonde.&rdquo; All the men laughed at this,
+smacking their lips. Lorilleux and Madame Lorilleux sniffed disdainfully,
+almost choking with rage to see such a goose on Clump-clump&rsquo;s table.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Well! We can&rsquo;t eat it whole,&rdquo; the laundress observed.
+&ldquo;Who&rsquo;ll cut it up? No, no, not me! It&rsquo;s too big; I&rsquo;m
+afraid of it.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Coupeau offered his services. <i>Mon Dieu!</i> it was very simple. You caught
+hold of the limbs, and pulled them off; the pieces were good all the same. But
+the others protested; they forcibly took possession of the large kitchen knife
+which the zinc-worker already held in his hand, saying that whenever he carved
+he made a regular graveyard of the platter. Finally, Madame Lerat suggested in
+a friendly tone:
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Listen, it should be Monsieur Poisson; yes, Monsieur Poisson.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+But, as the others did not appear to understand, she added in a more flattering
+manner still:
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Why, yes, of course, it should be Monsieur Poisson, who&rsquo;s
+accustomed to the use of arms.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+And she passed the kitchen knife to the policeman. All round the table they
+laughed with pleasure and approval. Poisson bowed his head with military
+stiffness, and moved the goose before him. When he thrust the knife into the
+goose, which cracked, Lorilleux was seized with an outburst of patriotism.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Ah! if it was a Cossack!&rdquo; he cried.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Have you ever fought with Cossacks, Monsieur Poisson?&rdquo; asked
+Madame Boche.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;No, but I have with Bedouins,&rdquo; replied the policeman, who was
+cutting off a wing. &ldquo;There are no more Cossacks.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+A great silence ensued. Necks were stretched out as every eye followed the
+knife. Poisson was preparing a surprise. Suddenly he gave a last cut; the
+hind-quarter of the bird came off and stood up on end, rump in the air, making
+a bishop&rsquo;s mitre. Then admiration burst forth. None were so agreeable in
+company as retired soldiers.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The policeman allowed several minutes for the company to admire the
+bishop&rsquo;s mitre and then finished cutting the slices and arranging them on
+the platter. The carving of the goose was now complete.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+When the ladies complained that they were getting rather warm, Coupeau opened
+the door to the street and the gaiety continued against the background of cabs
+rattling down the street and pedestrians bustling along the pavement. The goose
+was attacked furiously by the rested jaws. Boche remarked that just having to
+wait and watch the goose being carved had been enough to make the veal and pork
+slide down to his ankles.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Then ensued a famous tuck-in; that is to say, not one of the party recollected
+ever having before run the risk of such a stomach-ache. Gervaise, looking
+enormous, her elbows on the table, ate great pieces of breast, without uttering
+a word, for fear of losing a mouthful, and merely felt slightly ashamed and
+annoyed at exhibiting herself thus, as gluttonous as a cat before Goujet.
+Goujet, however, was too busy stuffing himself to notice that she was all red
+with eating. Besides, in spite of her greediness, she remained so nice and
+good! She did not speak, but she troubled herself every minute to look after
+Pere Bru, and place some dainty bit on his plate. It was even touching to see
+this glutton take a piece of wing almost from her mouth to give it to the old
+fellow, who did not appear to be very particular, and who swallowed everything
+with bowed head, almost besotted from having gobbled so much after he had
+forgotten the taste of bread. The Lorilleuxs expended their rage on the roast
+goose; they ate enough to last them three days; they would have stowed away the
+dish, the table, the very shop, if they could have ruined Clump-clump by doing
+so. All the ladies had wanted a piece of the breast, traditionally the
+ladies&rsquo; portion. Madame Lerat, Madame Boche, Madame Putois, were all
+picking bones; whilst mother Coupeau, who adored the neck, was tearing off the
+flesh with her two last teeth. Virginie liked the skin when it was nicely
+browned, and the other guests gallantly passed their skin to her; so much so,
+that Poisson looked at his wife severely, and bade her stop, because she had
+had enough as it was. Once already, she had been a fortnight in bed, with her
+stomach swollen out, through having eaten too much roast goose. But Coupeau got
+angry and helped Virginie to the upper part of a leg, saying that, by
+Jove&rsquo;s thunder! if she did not pick it, she wasn&rsquo;t a proper woman.
+Had roast goose ever done harm to anybody? On the contrary, it cured all
+complaints of the spleen. One could eat it without bread, like dessert. He
+could go on swallowing it all night without being the least bit inconvenienced;
+and, just to show off, he stuffed a whole drum-stick into his mouth. Meanwhile,
+Clemence had got to the end of the rump, and was sucking it with her lips,
+whilst she wriggled with laughter on her chair because Boche was whispering all
+sorts of smutty things to her. Ah, by Jove! Yes, there was a dinner! When
+one&rsquo;s at it, one&rsquo;s at it, you know; and if one only has the chance
+now and then, one would be precious stupid not to stuff oneself up to
+one&rsquo;s ears. Really, one could see their sides puff out by degrees. They
+were cracking in their skins, the blessed gormandizers! With their mouths open,
+their chins besmeared with grease, they had such bloated red faces that one
+would have said they were bursting with prosperity.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+As for the wine, well, that was flowing as freely around the table as water
+flows in the Seine. It was like a brook overflowing after a rainstorm when the
+soil is parched. Coupeau raised the bottle high when pouring to see the red jet
+foam in the glass. Whenever he emptied a bottle, he would turn it upside down
+and shake it. One more dead solder! In a corner of the laundry the pile of dead
+soldiers grew larger and larger, a veritable cemetery of bottles onto which
+other debris from the table was tossed.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Coupeau became indignant when Madame Putois asked for water. He took all the
+water pitchers from the table. Do respectable citizens ever drink water? Did
+she want to grow frogs in her stomach?
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Many glasses were emptied at one gulp. You could hear the liquid gurgling its
+way down the throats like rainwater in a drainpipe after a storm. One might say
+it was raining wine. <i>Mon Dieu!</i> the juice of the grape was a remarkable
+invention. Surely the workingman couldn&rsquo;t get along without his wine.
+Papa Noah must have planted his grapevine for the benefit of zinc-workers,
+tailors and blacksmiths. It brightened you up and refreshed you after a hard
+day&rsquo;s work.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Coupeau was in a high mood. He proclaimed that all the ladies present were very
+cute, and jingled the three sous in his pocket as if they had been five-franc
+pieces.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Even Goujet, who was ordinarily very sober, had taken plenty of wine.
+Boche&rsquo;s eyes were narrowing, those of Lorilleux were paling, and Poisson
+was developing expressions of stern severity on his soldierly face. All the men
+were as drunk as lords and the ladies had reached a certain point also, feeling
+so warm that they had to loosen their clothes. Only Clemence carried this a bit
+too far.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Suddenly Gervaise recollected the six sealed bottles of wine. She had forgotten
+to put them on the table with the goose; she fetched them, and all the glasses
+were filled. Then Poisson rose, and holding his glass in the air, said:
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;I drink to the health of the missus.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+All of them stood up, making a great noise with their chairs as they moved.
+Holding out their arms, they clinked glasses in the midst of an immense uproar.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Here&rsquo;s to this day fifty years hence!&rdquo; cried Virginie.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;No, no,&rdquo; replied Gervaise, deeply moved and smiling; &ldquo;I
+shall be too old. Ah! a day comes when one&rsquo;s glad to go.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Through the door, which was wide open, the neighborhood was looking on and
+taking part in the festivities. Passers-by stopped in the broad ray of light
+which shone over the pavement, and laughed heartily at seeing all these people
+stuffing away so jovially.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The aroma from the roasted goose brought joy to the whole street. The clerks on
+the sidewalk opposite thought they could almost taste the bird. Others came out
+frequently to stand in front of their shops, sniffing the air and licking their
+lips. The little jeweler was unable to work, dizzy from having counted so many
+bottles. He seemed to have lost his head among his merry little cuckoo clocks.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Yes, the neighbors were devoured with envy, as Coupeau said. But why should
+there be any secret made about the matter? The party, now fairly launched, was
+no longer ashamed of being seen at table; on the contrary, it felt flattered
+and excited at seeing the crowd gathered there, gaping with gluttony; it would
+have liked to have knocked out the shop-front and dragged the table into the
+road-way, and there to have enjoyed the dessert under the very nose of the
+public, and amidst the commotion of the thoroughfare. Nothing disgusting was to
+be seen in them, was there? Then there was no need to shut themselves in like
+selfish people. Coupeau, noticing the little clockmaker looked very thirsty,
+held up a bottle; and as the other nodded his head, he carried him the bottle
+and a glass. A fraternity was established in the street. They drank to anyone
+who passed. They called in any chaps who looked the right sort. The feast
+spread, extending from one to another, to the degree that the entire
+neighborhood of the Goutte-d&rsquo;Or sniffed the grub, and held its stomach,
+amidst a rumpus worthy of the devil and all his demons. For some minutes,
+Madame Vigouroux, the charcoal-dealer, had been passing to and fro before the
+door.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Hi! Madame Vigouroux! Madame Vigouroux!&rdquo; yelled the party.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+She entered with a broad grin on her face, which was washed for once, and so
+fat that the body of her dress was bursting. The men liked pinching her,
+because they might pinch her all over without ever encountering a bone. Boche
+made room for her beside him and reached slyly under the table to grab her
+knee. But she, being accustomed to that sort of thing, quietly tossed off a
+glass of wine, and related that all the neighbors were at their windows, and
+that some of the people of the house were beginning to get angry.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Oh, that&rsquo;s our business,&rdquo; said Madame Boche.
+&ldquo;We&rsquo;re the concierges, aren&rsquo;t we? Well, we&rsquo;re
+answerable for good order. Let them come and complain to us, we&rsquo;ll
+receive them in a way they don&rsquo;t expect.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+In the back-room there had just been a furious fight between Nana and
+Augustine, on account of the Dutch oven, which both wanted to scrape out. For a
+quarter of an hour, the Dutch oven had rebounded over the tile floor with the
+noise of an old saucepan. Nana was now nursing little Victor, who had a
+goose-bone in his throat. She pushed her fingers under his chin, and made him
+swallow big lumps of sugar by way of a remedy. That did not prevent her keeping
+an eye on the big table. At every minute she came and asked for wine, bread, or
+meat, for Etienne and Pauline, she said.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Here! Burst!&rdquo; her mother would say to her. &ldquo;Perhaps
+you&rsquo;ll leave us in peace now!&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The children were scarcely able to swallow any longer, but they continued to
+eat all the same, banging their forks down on the table to the tune of a
+canticle, in order to excite themselves.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+In the midst of the noise, however, a conversation was going on between Pere
+Bru and mother Coupeau. The old fellow, who was ghastly pale in spite of the
+wine and the food, was talking of his sons who had died in the Crimea. Ah! if
+the lads had only lived, he would have had bread to eat every day. But mother
+Coupeau, speaking thickly, leant towards him and said:
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Ah! one has many worries with children! For instance, I appear to be
+happy here, don&rsquo;t I? Well! I cry more often than you think. No,
+don&rsquo;t wish you still had your children.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Pere Bru shook his head.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;I can&rsquo;t get work anywhere,&rdquo; murmured he. &ldquo;I&rsquo;m
+too old. When I enter a workshop the young fellows joke, and ask me if I
+polished Henri IV.&rsquo;s boots. To-day it&rsquo;s all over; they won&rsquo;t
+have me anywhere. Last year I could still earn thirty sous a day painting a
+bridge. I had to lie on my back with the river flowing under me. I&rsquo;ve had
+a bad cough ever since then. Now, I&rsquo;m finished.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+He looked at his poor stiff hands and added:
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;It&rsquo;s easy to understand, I&rsquo;m no longer good for anything.
+They&rsquo;re right; were I in their place I should do the same. You see, the
+misfortune is that I&rsquo;m not dead. Yes, it&rsquo;s my fault. One should lie
+down and croak when one&rsquo;s no longer able to work.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Really,&rdquo; said Lorilleux, who was listening, &ldquo;I don&rsquo;t
+understand why the Government doesn&rsquo;t come to the aid of the invalids of
+labor. I was reading that in a newspaper the other day.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+But Poisson thought it his duty to defend the Government.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Workmen are not soldiers,&rdquo; declared he. &ldquo;The Invalides is
+for soldiers. You must not ask for what is impossible.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Dessert was now served. In the centre of the table was a Savoy cake in the form
+of a temple, with a dome fluted with melon slices; and this dome was surmounted
+by an artificial rose, close to which was a silver paper butterfly, fluttering
+at the end of a wire. Two drops of gum in the centre of the flower imitated
+dew. Then, to the left, a piece of cream cheese floated in a deep dish; whilst
+in another dish to the right, were piled up some large crushed strawberries,
+with the juice running from them. However, there was still some salad left,
+some large coss lettuce leaves soaked with oil.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Come, Madame Boche,&rdquo; said Gervaise, coaxingly, &ldquo;a little
+more salad. I know how fond you are of it.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;No, no, thank you! I&rsquo;ve already had as much as I can
+manage,&rdquo; replied the concierge.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The laundress turning towards Virginie, the latter put her finger in her mouth,
+as though to touch the food she had taken.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Really, I&rsquo;m full,&rdquo; murmured she. &ldquo;There&rsquo;s no
+room left. I couldn&rsquo;t swallow a mouthful.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Oh! but if you tried a little,&rdquo; resumed Gervaise with a smile.
+&ldquo;One can always find a tiny corner empty. Once doesn&rsquo;t need to be
+hungry to be able to eat salad. You&rsquo;re surely not going to let this be
+wasted?&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;You can eat it to-morrow,&rdquo; said Madame Lerat; &ldquo;it&rsquo;s
+nicer when its wilted.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The ladies sighed as they looked regretfully at the salad-bowl. Clemence
+related that she had one day eaten three bunches of watercresses at her lunch.
+Madame Putois could do more than that, she would take a coss lettuce and munch
+it up with some salt just as it was without separating the leaves. They could
+all have lived on salad, would have treated themselves to tubfuls. And, this
+conversation aiding, the ladies cleaned out the salad-bowl.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;I could go on all fours in a meadow,&rdquo; observed the concierge with
+her mouth full.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Then they chuckled together as they eyed the dessert. Dessert did not count. It
+came rather late but that did not matter; they would nurse it all the same.
+When you&rsquo;re that stuffed, you can&rsquo;t let yourself be stopped by
+strawberries and cake. There was no hurry. They had the entire night if they
+wished. So they piled their plates with strawberries and cream cheese.
+Meanwhile the men lit their pipes. They were drinking the ordinary wine while
+they smoked since the special wine had been finished. Now they insisted that
+Gervaise cut the Savoy cake. Poisson got up and took the rose from the cake and
+presented it in his most gallant manner to the hostess amidst applause from the
+other guests. She pinned it over her left breast, near the heart. The silver
+butterfly fluttered with her every movement.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Well, look,&rdquo; exclaimed Lorilleux, who had just made a discovery,
+&ldquo;it&rsquo;s your work-table that we&rsquo;re eating off! Ah, well! I
+daresay it&rsquo;s never seen so much work before!&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+This malicious joke had a great success. Witty allusions came from all sides.
+Clemence could not swallow a spoonful of strawberries without saying that it
+was another shirt ironed; Madame Lerat pretended that the cream cheese smelt of
+starch; whilst Madame Lorilleux said between her teeth that it was capital fun
+to gobble up the money so quickly on the very boards on which one had had so
+much trouble to earn it. There was quite a tempest of shouts and laughter.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+But suddenly a loud voice called for silence. It was Boche who, standing up in
+an affected and vulgar way, was commencing to sing &ldquo;The Volcano of Love,
+or the Seductive Trooper.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+A thunder of applause greeted the first verse. Yes, yes, they would sing songs!
+Everyone in turn. It was more amusing than anything else. And they all put
+their elbows on the table or leant back in their chairs, nodding their heads at
+the best parts and sipping their wine when they came to the choruses. That
+rogue Boche had a special gift for comic songs. He would almost make the water
+pitchers laugh when he imitated the raw recruit with his fingers apart and his
+hat on the back of his head. Directly after &ldquo;The Volcano of Love,&rdquo;
+he burst out into &ldquo;The Baroness de Follebiche,&rdquo; one of his greatest
+successes. When he reached the third verse he turned towards Clemence and
+almost murmured it in a slow and voluptuous tone of voice:
+</p>
+
+<p class="poem">
+&ldquo;The baroness had people there,<br/>
+Her sisters four, oh! rare surprise;<br/>
+And three were dark, and one was fair;<br/>
+Between them, eight bewitching eyes.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Then the whole party, carried away, joined in the chorus. The men beat time
+with their heels, whilst the ladies did the same with their knives against
+their glasses. All of them singing at the top of their voices:
+</p>
+
+<p class="poem">
+&ldquo;By Jingo! who on earth will pay<br/>
+A drink to the pa&mdash;to the pa&mdash;pa&mdash;?<br/>
+By Jingo! who on earth will pay<br/>
+A drink to the pa&mdash;to the pa&mdash;tro&mdash;o&mdash;l?&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The panes of glass of the shop-front resounded, the singers&rsquo; great volume
+of breath agitated the muslin curtains. Whilst all this was going on, Virginie
+had already twice disappeared and each time, on returning, had leant towards
+Gervaise&rsquo;s ear to whisper a piece of information. When she returned the
+third time, in the midst of the uproar, she said to her:
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;My dear, he&rsquo;s still at Francois&rsquo;s; he&rsquo;s pretending to
+read the newspaper. He&rsquo;s certainly meditating some evil design.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+She was speaking of Lantier. It was him that she had been watching. At each
+fresh report Gervaise became more and more grave.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Is he drunk?&rdquo; asked she of Virginie.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;No,&rdquo; replied the tall brunette. &ldquo;He looks as though he had
+merely had what he required. It&rsquo;s that especially which makes me anxious.
+Why does he remain there if he&rsquo;s had all he wanted? <i>Mon Dieu!</i> I
+hope nothing is going to happen!&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The laundress, greatly upset, begged her to leave off. A profound silence
+suddenly succeeded the clamor. Madame Putois had just risen and was about to
+sing &ldquo;The Boarding of the Pirate.&rdquo; The guests, silent and
+thoughtful, watched her; even Poisson had laid his pipe down on the edge of the
+table the better to listen to her. She stood up to the full height of her
+little figure, with a fierce expression about her, though her face looked quite
+pale beneath her black cap; she thrust out her left fist with a satisfied pride
+as she thundered in a voice bigger than herself:
+</p>
+
+<p class="poem">
+&ldquo;If the pirate audacious<br/>
+Should o&rsquo;er the waves chase us,<br/>
+The buccaneer slaughter,<br/>
+Accord him no quarter.<br/>
+To the guns every man,<br/>
+And with rum fill each can!<br/>
+While these pests of the seas<br/>
+Dangle from the cross-trees.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+That was something serious. By Jove! it gave one a fine idea of the real thing.
+Poisson, who had been on board ship nodded his head in approval of the
+description. One could see too that that song was in accordance with Madame
+Putois&rsquo;s own feeling. Coupeau then told how Madame Putois, one evening on
+Rue Poulet, had slapped the face of four men who sought to attack her virtue.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+With the assistance of mother Coupeau, Gervaise was now serving the coffee,
+though some of the guests had not yet finished their Savoy cake. They would not
+let her sit down again, but shouted that it was her turn. With a pale face, and
+looking very ill at ease, she tried to excuse herself; she seemed so queer that
+someone inquired whether the goose had disagreed with her. She finally gave
+them &ldquo;Oh! let me slumber!&rdquo; in a sweet and feeble voice. When she
+reached the chorus with its wish for a sleep filled with beautiful dreams, her
+eyelids partly closed and her rapt gaze lost itself in the darkness of the
+street.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Poisson stood next and with an abrupt bow to the ladies, sang a drinking song:
+&ldquo;The Wines of France.&rdquo; But his voice wasn&rsquo;t very musical and
+only the final verse, a patriotic one mentioning the tricolor flag, was a
+success. Then he raised his glass high, juggled it a moment, and poured the
+contents into his open mouth.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Then came a string of ballads; Madame Boche&rsquo;s barcarolle was all about
+Venice and the gondoliers; Madame Lorilleux sang of Seville and the Andalusians
+in her bolero; whilst Lorilleux went so far as to allude to the perfumes of
+Arabia, in reference to the loves of Fatima the dancer.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Golden horizons were opening up all around the heavily laden table. The men
+were smoking their pipes and the women unconsciously smiling with pleasure. All
+were dreaming they were far away.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Clemence began to sing softly &ldquo;Let&rsquo;s Make a Nest&rdquo; with a
+tremolo in her voice which pleased them greatly for it made them think of the
+open country, of songbirds, of dancing beneath an arbor, and of flowers. In
+short, it made them think of the Bois de Vincennes when they went there for a
+picnic.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+But Virginie revived the joking with &ldquo;My Little Drop of Brandy.&rdquo;
+She imitated a camp follower, with one hand on her hip, the elbow arched to
+indicate the little barrel; and with the other hand she poured out the brandy
+into space by turning her fist round. She did it so well that the party then
+begged mother Coupeau to sing &ldquo;The Mouse.&rdquo; The old woman refused,
+vowing that she did not know that naughty song. Yet she started off with the
+remnants of her broken voice; and her wrinkled face with its lively little eyes
+underlined the allusions, the terrors of Mademoiselle Lise drawing her skirts
+around her at the sight of a mouse. All the table laughed; the women could not
+keep their countenances, and continued casting bright glances at their
+neighbors; it was not indecent after all, there were no coarse words in it. All
+during the song Boche was playing mouse up and down the legs of the lady
+coal-dealer. Things might have gotten a bit out of line if Goujet, in response
+to a glance from Gervaise, had not brought back the respectful silence with
+&ldquo;The Farewell of Abdul-Kader,&rdquo; which he sang out loudly in his bass
+voice. The song rang out from his golden beard as if from a brass trumpet. All
+the hearts skipped a beat when he cried, &ldquo;Ah, my noble comrade!&rdquo;
+referring to the warrior&rsquo;s black mare. They burst into applause even
+before the end.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Now, Pere Bru, it&rsquo;s your turn!&rdquo; said mother Coupeau.
+&ldquo;Sing your song. The old ones are the best any day!&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+And everybody turned towards the old man, pressing him and encouraging him. He,
+in a state of torpor, with his immovable mask of tanned skin, looked at them
+without appearing to understand. They asked him if he knew the &ldquo;Five
+Vowels.&rdquo; He held down his head; he could not recollect it; all the songs
+of the good old days were mixed up in his head. As they made up their minds to
+leave him alone, he seemed to remember, and began to stutter in a cavernous
+voice:
+</p>
+
+<p class="poem">
+&ldquo;Trou la la, trou la la,<br/>
+Trou la, trou la, trou la la!&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+His face assumed an animated expression, this chorus seemed to awake some
+far-off gaieties within him, enjoyed by himself alone, as he listened with a
+childish delight to his voice which became more and more hollow.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Say there, my dear,&rdquo; Virginie came and whispered in
+Gervaise&rsquo;s ear, &ldquo;I&rsquo;ve just been there again, you know. It
+worried me. Well! Lantier has disappeared from Francois&rsquo;s.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;You didn&rsquo;t meet him outside?&rdquo; asked the laundress.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;No, I walked quickly, not as if I was looking for him.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+But Virginie raised her eyes, interrupted herself and heaved a smothered sigh.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Ah! <i>Mon Dieu!</i> He&rsquo;s there, on the pavement opposite;
+he&rsquo;s looking this way.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Gervaise, quite beside herself, ventured to glance in the direction indicated.
+Some persons had collected in the street to hear the party sing. And Lantier
+was indeed there in the front row, listening and coolly looking on. It was rare
+cheek, everything considered. Gervaise felt a chill ascend from her legs to her
+heart, and she no longer dared to move, whilst old Bru continued:
+</p>
+
+<p class="poem">
+&ldquo;Trou la la, trou la la,<br/>
+Trou la, trou la, trou la la!&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Very good. Thank you, my ancient one, that&rsquo;s enough!&rdquo; said
+Coupeau. &ldquo;Do you know the whole of it? You shall sing it for us another
+day when we need something sad.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+This raised a few laughs. The old fellow stopped short, glanced round the table
+with his pale eyes and resumed his look of a meditative animal. Coupeau called
+for more wine as the coffee was finished. Clemence was eating strawberries
+again. With the pause in singing, they began to talk about a woman who had been
+found hanging that morning in the building next door. It was Madame
+Lerat&rsquo;s turn, but she required to prepare herself. She dipped the corner
+of her napkin into a glass of water and applied it to her temples because she
+was too hot. Then, she asked for a thimbleful of brandy, drank it, and slowly
+wiped her lips.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;The &lsquo;Child of God,&rsquo; shall it be?&rdquo; she murmured,
+&ldquo;the &lsquo;Child of God.&rsquo;&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+And, tall and masculine-looking, with her bony nose and her shoulders as square
+as a grenadier&rsquo;s she began:
+</p>
+
+<p class="poem">
+&ldquo;The lost child left by its mother alone<br/>
+Is sure of a home in Heaven above,<br/>
+God sees and protects it on earth from His throne,<br/>
+The child that is lost is the child of God&rsquo;s love.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Her voice trembled at certain words, and dwelt on them in liquid notes; she
+looked out of the corner of her eyes to heaven, whilst her right hand swung
+before her chest or pressed against her heart with an impressive gesture. Then
+Gervaise, tortured by Lantier&rsquo;s presence, could not restrain her tears;
+it seemed to her that the song was relating her own suffering, that she was the
+lost child, abandoned by its mother, and whom God was going to take under his
+protection. Clemence was now very drunk and she burst into loud sobbing and
+placed her head down onto the table in an effort to smother her gasps. There
+was a hush vibrant with emotion.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The ladies had pulled out their handkerchiefs, and were drying their eyes, with
+their heads erect from pride. The men had bowed their heads and were staring
+straight before them, blinking back their tears. Poisson bit off the end of his
+pipe twice while gulping and gasping. Boche, with two large tears trickling
+down his face, wasn&rsquo;t even bothering to squeeze the coal-dealer&rsquo;s
+knee any longer. All these drunk revelers were as soft-hearted as lambs.
+Wasn&rsquo;t the wine almost coming out of their eyes? When the refrain began
+again, they all let themselves go, blubbering into their plates.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+But Gervaise and Virginie could not, in spite of themselves, take their eyes
+off the pavement opposite. Madame Boche, in her turn, caught sight of Lantier
+and uttered a faint cry without ceasing to besmear her face with her tears.
+Then all three had very anxious faces as they exchanged involuntary signs.
+<i>Mon Dieu!</i> if Coupeau were to turn round, if Coupeau caught sight of the
+other! What a butchery! What carnage! And they went on to such an extent that
+the zinc-worker asked them:
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Whatever are you looking at?&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+He leant forward and recognized Lantier.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Damnation! It&rsquo;s too much,&rdquo; muttered he. &ldquo;Ah! the dirty
+scoundrel&mdash;ah! the dirty scoundrel. No, it&rsquo;s too much, it must come
+to an end.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+And as he rose from his seat muttering most atrocious threats, Gervaise, in a
+low voice, implored him to keep quiet.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Listen to me, I implore you. Leave the knife alone. Remain where you
+are, don&rsquo;t do anything dreadful.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Virginie had to take the knife which he had picked up off the table from him.
+But she could not prevent him leaving the shop and going up to Lantier.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Those around the table saw nothing of this, so involved were they in weeping
+over the song as Madame Lerat sang the last verse. It sounded like a moaning
+wail of the wind and Madame Putois was so moved that she spilled her wine over
+the table. Gervaise remained frozen with fright, one hand tight against her
+lips to stifle her sobs. She expected at any moment to see one of the two men
+fall unconscious in the street.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+As Coupeau rushed toward Lantier, he was so astonished by the fresh air that he
+staggered, and Lantier, with his hands in his pockets, merely took a step to
+the side. Now the two men were almost shouting at each other, Coupeau calling
+the other a lousy pig and threatening to make sausage of his guts. They were
+shouting loudly and angrily and waving their arms violently. Gervaise felt
+faint and as it continued for a while, she closed her eyes. Suddenly, she
+didn&rsquo;t hear any shouting and opened her eyes. The two men were chatting
+amiably together.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Madame Lerat&rsquo;s voice rose higher and higher, warbling another verse.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Gervaise exchanged a glance with Madame Boche and Virginie. Was it going to end
+amicably then? Coupeau and Lantier continued to converse on the edge of the
+pavement. They were still abusing each other, but in a friendly way. As people
+were staring at them, they ended by strolling leisurely side by side past the
+houses, turning round again every ten yards or so. A very animated conversation
+was now taking place. Suddenly Coupeau appeared to become angry again, whilst
+the other was refusing something and required to be pressed. And it was the
+zinc-worker who pushed Lantier along and who forced him to cross the street and
+enter the shop.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;I tell you, you&rsquo;re quite welcome!&rdquo; shouted he.
+&ldquo;You&rsquo;ll take a glass of wine. Men are men, you know. We ought to
+understand each other.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Madame Lerat was finishing the last chorus. The ladies were singing all
+together as they twisted their handkerchiefs.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;The child that is lost is the child of God&rsquo;s love.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The singer was greatly complimented and she resumed her seat affecting to be
+quite broken down. She asked for something to drink because she always put too
+much feeling into that song and she was constantly afraid of straining her
+vocal chords. Everyone at the table now had their eyes fixed on Lantier who,
+quietly seated beside Coupeau, was devouring the last piece of Savoy cake which
+he dipped in his glass of wine. With the exception of Virginie and Madame Boche
+none of the guests knew him. The Lorilleuxs certainly scented some underhand
+business, but not knowing what, they merely assumed their most conceited air.
+Goujet, who had noticed Gervaise&rsquo;s emotion, gave the newcomer a sour
+look. As an awkward pause ensued Coupeau simply said:
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;A friend of mine.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+And turning to his wife, added:
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Come, stir yourself! Perhaps there&rsquo;s still some hot coffee
+left.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Gervaise, feeling meek and stupid, looked at them one after the other. At
+first, when her husband pushed her old lover into the shop, she buried her head
+between her hands, the same as she instinctively did on stormy days at each
+clap of thunder. She could not believe it possible; the walls would fall in and
+crush them all. Then, when she saw the two sitting together peacefully, she
+suddenly accepted it as quite natural. A happy feeling of languor benumbed her,
+retained her all in a heap at the edge of the table, with the sole desire of
+not being bothered. <i>Mon Dieu!</i> what is the use of putting oneself out
+when others do not, and when things arrange themselves to the satisfaction of
+everybody? She got up to see if there was any coffee left.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+In the back-room the children had fallen asleep. That squint-eyed Augustine had
+tyrannized over them all during the dessert, pilfering their strawberries and
+frightening them with the most abominable threats. Now she felt very ill, and
+was bent double upon a stool, not uttering a word, her face ghastly pale. Fat
+Pauline had let her head fall against Etienne&rsquo;s shoulder, and he himself
+was sleeping on the edge of the table. Nana was seated with Victor on the rug
+beside the bedstead, she had passed her arm round his neck and was drawing him
+towards her; and, succumbing to drowsiness and with her eyes shut, she kept
+repeating in a feeble voice:
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Oh! Mamma, I&rsquo;m not well; oh! mamma, I&rsquo;m not well.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;No wonder!&rdquo; murmured Augustine, whose head was rolling about on
+her shoulders, &ldquo;they&rsquo;re drunk; they&rsquo;ve been singing like
+grown up persons.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Gervaise received another blow on beholding Etienne. She felt as though she
+would choke when she thought of the youngster&rsquo;s father being there in the
+other room, eating cake, and that he had not even expressed a desire to kiss
+the little fellow. She was on the point of rousing Etienne and of carrying him
+there in her arms. Then she again felt that the quiet way in which matters had
+been arranged was the best. It would not have been proper to have disturbed the
+harmony of the end of the dinner. She returned with the coffee-pot and poured
+out a glass of coffee for Lantier, who, by the way, did not appear to take any
+notice of her.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Now, it&rsquo;s my turn,&rdquo; stuttered Coupeau, in a thick voice.
+&ldquo;You&rsquo;ve been keeping the best for the last. Well! I&rsquo;ll sing
+you &lsquo;That Piggish Child.&rsquo;&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Yes, yes, &lsquo;That Piggish Child,&rsquo;&rdquo; cried everyone.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The uproar was beginning again. Lantier was forgotten. The ladies prepared
+their glasses and their knives for accompanying the chorus. They laughed
+beforehand, as they looked at the zinc-worker, who steadied himself on his legs
+as he put on his most vulgar air. Mimicking the hoarse voice of an old woman,
+he sang:
+</p>
+
+<p class="poem">
+&ldquo;When out of bed each morn I hop,<br/>
+I&rsquo;m always precious queer;<br/>
+I send him for a little drop<br/>
+To the drinking-den that&rsquo;s near.<br/>
+A good half hour or more he&rsquo;ll stay,<br/>
+And that makes me so riled,<br/>
+He swigs it half upon his way:<br/>
+What a piggish child!&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+And the ladies, striking their glasses, repeated in chorus in the midst of a
+formidable gaiety:
+</p>
+
+<p class="poem">
+&ldquo;What a piggish child!<br/>
+What a piggish child!&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Even the Rue de la Goutte-d&rsquo;Or itself joined in now. The whole
+neighborhood was singing &ldquo;What a piggish child!&rdquo; The little
+clockmaker, the grocery clerks, the tripe woman and the fruit woman all knew
+the song and joined in the chorus. The entire street seemed to be getting drunk
+on the odors from the Coupeau party. In the reddish haze from the two lamps,
+the noise of the party was enough to shut out the rumbling of the last vehicles
+in the street. Two policemen rushed over, thinking there was a riot, but on
+recognizing Poisson, they saluted him smartly and went away between the
+darkened buildings.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Coupeau was now singing this verse:
+</p>
+
+<p class="poem">
+&ldquo;On Sundays at Petite Villette,<br/>
+Whene&rsquo;er the weather&rsquo;s fine,<br/>
+We call on uncle, old Tinette,<br/>
+Who&rsquo;s in the dustman line.<br/>
+To feast upon some cherry stones<br/>
+The young un&rsquo;s almost wild,<br/>
+And rolls amongst the dust and bones,<br/>
+What a piggish child!<br/>
+What a piggish child!&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Then the house almost collapsed, such a yell ascended in the calm warm night
+air that the shouters applauded themselves, for it was useless their hoping to
+be able to bawl any louder.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Not one of the party could ever recollect exactly how the carouse terminated.
+It must have been very late, it&rsquo;s quite certain, for not a cat was to be
+seen in the street. Possibly too, they had all joined hands and danced round
+the table. But all was submerged in a yellow mist, in which red faces were
+jumping about, with mouths slit from ear to ear. They had probably treated
+themselves to something stronger than wine towards the end, and there was a
+vague suspicion that some one had played them the trick of putting salt into
+the glasses. The children must have undressed and put themselves to bed. On the
+morrow, Madame Boche boasted of having treated Boche to a couple of clouts in a
+corner, where he was conversing a great deal too close to the charcoal-dealer;
+but Boche, who recollected nothing, said she must have dreamt it. Everyone
+agreed that it wasn&rsquo;t very decent the way Clemence had carried on. She
+had ended by showing everything she had and then been so sick that she had
+completely ruined one of the muslin curtains. The men had at least the decency
+to go into the street; Lorilleux and Poisson, feeling their stomachs upset, had
+stumblingly glided as far as the pork-butcher&rsquo;s shop. It is easy to see
+when a person has been well brought up. For instance, the ladies, Madame
+Putois, Madame Lerat, and Virginie, indisposed by the heat, had simply gone
+into the back-room and taken their stays off; Virginie had even desired to lie
+on the bed for a minute, just to obviate any unpleasant effects. Thus the party
+had seemed to melt away, some disappearing behind the others, all accompanying
+one another, and being lost sight of in the surrounding darkness, to the
+accompaniment of a final uproar, a furious quarrel between the Lorilleuxs, and
+an obstinate and mournful &ldquo;trou la la, trou la la,&rdquo; of old
+Bru&rsquo;s. Gervaise had an idea that Goujet had burst out sobbing when
+bidding her good-bye; Coupeau was still singing; and as for Lantier, he must
+have remained till the end. At one moment even, she could still feel a breath
+against her hair, but she was unable to say whether it came from Lantier or if
+it was the warm night air.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Since Madame Lerat didn&rsquo;t want to return to Les Batignolles at such a
+late hour, they took one of the mattresses off the bed and spread it for her in
+a corner of the shop, after pushing back the table. She slept right there amid
+all the dinner crumbs. All night long, while the Coupeaus were sleeping, a
+neighbor&rsquo;s cat took advantage of an open window and was crunching the
+bones of the goose with its sharp teeth, giving the bird its final resting
+place.
+</p>
+
+</div><!--end chapter-->
+
+<div class="chapter">
+
+<h2><a name="link2HCH0008" id="link2HCH0008"></a>
+CHAPTER VIII</h2>
+
+<p>
+On the following Saturday Coupeau, who had not come home to dinner, brought
+Lantier with him towards ten o&rsquo;clock. They had had some sheep&rsquo;s
+trotters at Chez Thomas at Montmartre.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;You mustn&rsquo;t scold, wife,&rdquo; said the zinc-worker.
+&ldquo;We&rsquo;re sober, as you can see. Oh! there&rsquo;s no fear with him;
+he keeps one on the straight road.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+And he related how they happened to meet in the Rue Rochechouart. After dinner
+Lantier had declined to have a drink at the &ldquo;Black Ball,&rdquo; saying
+that when one was married to a pretty and worthy little woman, one ought not to
+go liquoring-up at all the wineshops. Gervaise smiled slightly as she listened.
+Oh! she was not thinking of scolding, she felt too much embarrassed for that.
+She had been expecting to see her former lover again some day ever since their
+dinner party; but at such an hour, when she was about to go to bed, the
+unexpected arrival of the two men had startled her. Her hands were quivering as
+she pinned back the hair which had slid down her neck.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;You know,&rdquo; resumed Coupeau, &ldquo;as he was so polite as to
+decline a drink outside, you must treat us to one here. Ah! you certainly owe
+us that!&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The workwomen had left long ago. Mother Coupeau and Nana had just gone to bed.
+Gervaise, who had been just about to put up the shutters when they appeared,
+left the shop open and brought some glasses which she placed on a corner of the
+work-table with what was left of a bottle of brandy.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Lantier remained standing and avoided speaking directly to her. However, when
+she served him, he exclaimed:
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Only a thimbleful, madame, if you please.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Coupeau looked at them and then spoke his mind very plainly. They were not
+going to behave like a couple of geese he hoped! The past was past was it not?
+If people nursed grudges for nine and ten years together one would end by no
+longer seeing anybody. No, no, he carried his heart in his hand, he did! First
+of all, he knew who he had to deal with, a worthy woman and a worthy
+man&mdash;in short two friends! He felt easy; he knew he could depend upon
+them.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Oh! that&rsquo;s certain, quite certain,&rdquo; repeated Gervaise,
+looking on the ground and scarcely understanding what she said.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;She is a sister now&mdash;nothing but a sister!&rdquo; murmured Lantier
+in his turn.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;<i>Mon Dieu!</i> shake hands,&rdquo; cried Coupeau, &ldquo;and let those
+who don&rsquo;t like it go to blazes! When one has proper feelings one is
+better off than millionaires. For myself I prefer friendship before everything
+because friendship is friendship and there&rsquo;s nothing to beat it.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+He dealt himself heavy blows on the chest, and seemed so moved that they had to
+calm him. They all three silently clinked glasses, and drank their drop of
+brandy. Gervaise was then able to look at Lantier at her ease; for on the night
+of her saint&rsquo;s day, she had only seen him through a fog. He had grown
+more stout, his arms and legs seeming too heavy because of his small stature.
+His face was still handsome even though it was a little puffy now due to his
+life of idleness. He still took great pains with his narrow moustache. He
+looked about his actual age. He was wearing grey trousers, a heavy blue
+overcoat, and a round hat. He even had a watch with a silver chain on which a
+ring was hanging as a keepsake. He looked quite like a gentleman.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;I&rsquo;m off,&rdquo; said he. &ldquo;I live no end of a distance from
+here.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+He was already on the pavement when the zinc-worker called him back to make him
+promise never to pass the door without looking in to wish them good day.
+Meanwhile Gervaise, who had quietly disappeared, returned pushing Etienne
+before her. The child, who was in his shirt-sleeves and half asleep, smiled as
+he rubbed his eyes. But when he beheld Lantier he stood trembling and
+embarrassed, and casting anxious glances in the direction of his mother and
+Coupeau.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Don&rsquo;t you remember this gentleman?&rdquo; asked the latter.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The child held down his head without replying. Then he made a slight sign which
+meant that he did remember the gentleman.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Well! Then, don&rsquo;t stand there like a fool; go and kiss him.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Lantier gravely and quietly waited. When Etienne had made up his mind to
+approach him, he stooped down, presented both his cheeks, and then kissed the
+youngster on the forehead himself. At this the boy ventured to look at his
+father; but all on a sudden he burst out sobbing and scampered away like a mad
+creature with his clothes half falling off him, whilst Coupeau angrily called
+him a young savage.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;The emotion&rsquo;s too much for him,&rdquo; said Gervaise, pale and
+agitated herself.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Oh! he&rsquo;s generally very gentle and nice,&rdquo; exclaimed Coupeau.
+&ldquo;I&rsquo;ve brought him up properly, as you&rsquo;ll see. He&rsquo;ll get
+used to you. He must learn to know people. We can&rsquo;t stay mad. We should
+have made up a long time ago for his sake. I&rsquo;d rather have my head cut
+off than keep a father from seeing his own son.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Having thus delivered himself, he talked of finishing the bottle of brandy. All
+three clinked glasses again. Lantier showed no surprise, but remained perfectly
+calm. By way of repaying the zinc-worker&rsquo;s politeness he persisted in
+helping him put up the shutters before taking his departure. Then rubbing his
+hands together to get rid of the dust on them, he wished the couple good-night.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Sleep well. I shall try and catch the last bus. I promise you I&rsquo;ll
+look in again soon.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+After that evening Lantier frequently called at the Rue de la
+Goutte-d&rsquo;Or. He came when the zinc-worker was there, inquiring after his
+health the moment he passed the door and affecting to have solely called on his
+account. Then clean-shaven, his hair nicely combed and always wearing his
+overcoat, he would take a seat by the window and converse politely with the
+manners of an educated man. It was thus that the Coupeaus learnt little by
+little the details of his life. During the last eight years he had for a while
+managed a hat factory; and when they asked him why he had retired from it he
+merely alluded to the rascality of a partner, a fellow from his native place, a
+scoundrel who had squandered all the takings with women. His former position as
+an employer continued to affect his entire personality, like a title of
+nobility that he could not abandon. He was always talking of concluding a
+magnificent deal with some hatmakers who were going to set him up in business.
+While waiting for this he did nothing but stroll around all day like one of the
+idle rich. If anyone dared to mention a hat factory looking for workers, he
+smiled and said he was not interested in breaking his back working for others.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+A smart fellow like Lantier, according to Coupeau, knew how to take care of
+himself. He always looked prosperous and it took money to look thus. He must
+have some deal going. One morning Coupeau had seen him having his shoes shined
+on the Boulevard Montmartre. Lantier was very talkative about others, but the
+truth was that he told lies about himself. He would not even say where he
+lived, only that he was staying with a friend and there was no use in coming to
+see him because he was never in.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+It was now early November. Lantier would gallantly bring bunches of violets for
+Gervaise and the workwomen. He was now coming almost every day. He won the
+favor of Clemence and Madame Putois with his little attentions. At the end of
+the month they adored him. The Boches, whom he flattered by going to pay his
+respects in their concierge&rsquo;s lodge, went into ecstasies over his
+politeness.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+As soon as the Lorilleuxs knew who he was, they howled at the impudence of
+Gervaise in bringing her former lover into her home. However, one day Lantier
+went to visit them and made such a good impression when he ordered a necklace
+for a lady of his acquaintance that they invited him to sit down. He stayed an
+hour and they were so charmed by his conversation that they wondered how a man
+of such distinction had ever lived with Clump-clump. Soon Lantier&rsquo;s
+visits to the Coupeaus were accepted as perfectly natural; he was in the good
+graces of everyone along the Rue de la Goutte-d&rsquo;Or. Goujet was the only
+one who remained cold. If he happened to be there when Lantier arrived, he
+would leave at once as he didn&rsquo;t want to be obliged to be friendly to
+him.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+In the midst, however, of all this extraordinary affection for Lantier,
+Gervaise lived in a state of great agitation for the first few weeks. She felt
+that burning sensation in the pit of her stomach which affected her on the day
+when Virginie first alluded to her past life. Her great fear was that she might
+find herself without strength, if he came upon her all alone one night and took
+it into his head to kiss her. She thought of him too much; she was for ever
+thinking of him. But she gradually became calmer on seeing him behave so well,
+never looking her in the face, never even touching her with the tips of his
+fingers when no one was watching. Then Virginie, who seemed to read within her,
+made her ashamed of all her wicked thoughts. Why did she tremble? Once could
+not hope to come across a nicer man. She certainly had nothing to fear now. And
+one day the tall brunette maneuvered in such a way as to get them both into a
+corner, and to turn the conversation to the subject of love. Lantier, choosing
+his words, declared in a grave voice that his heart was dead, that for the
+future he wished to consecrate his life solely for his son&rsquo;s happiness.
+Every evening he would kiss Etienne on the forehead, yet he was apt to forget
+him in teasing back and forth with Clemence. And he never mentioned Claude who
+was still in the south. Gervaise began to feel at ease. Lantier&rsquo;s actual
+presence overshadowed her memories, and seeing him all the time, she no longer
+dreamed about him. She even felt a certain repugnance at the thought of their
+former relationship. Yes, it was over. If he dared to approach her, she&rsquo;d
+box his ears, or even better, she&rsquo;d tell her husband. Once again her
+thoughts turned to Goujet and his affection for her.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+One morning Clemence reported that the previous night, at about eleven
+o&rsquo;clock, she had seen Monsieur Lantier with a woman. She told about it
+maliciously and in coarse terms to see how Gervaise would react. Yes, Monsieur
+Lantier was on the Rue Notre Dame de Lorette with a blonde and she followed
+them. They had gone into a shop where the worn-out and used-up woman had bought
+some shrimps. Then they went to the Rue de La Rochefoucauld. Monsieur Lantier
+had waited on the pavement in front of the house while his lady friend went in
+alone. Then she had beckoned to him from the window to join her.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+No matter how Clemence went on with the story Gervaise went on peacefully
+ironing a white dress. Sometimes she smiled faintly. These southerners, she
+said, are all crazy about women; they have to have them no matter what, even if
+they come from a dung heap. When Lantier came in that evening, Gervaise was
+amused when Clemence teased him about the blonde. He seemed to feel flattered
+that he had been seen. <i>Mon Dieu!</i> she was just an old friend, he
+explained. He saw her from time to time. She was quite stylish. He mentioned
+some of her former lovers, among them a count, an important merchant and the
+son of a lawyer. He added that a bit of playing around didn&rsquo;t mean a
+thing, his heart was dead. In the end Clemence had to pay a price for her
+meanness. She certainly felt Lantier pinching her hard two or three times
+without seeming to do so. She was also jealous because she didn&rsquo;t reek of
+musk like that boulevard work-horse.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+When spring came, Lantier, who was now quite one of the family, talked of
+living in the neighborhood, so as to be nearer his friends. He wanted a
+furnished room in a decent house. Madame Boche, and even Gervaise herself went
+searching about to find it for him. They explored the neighboring streets. But
+he was always too difficult to please; he required a big courtyard, a room on
+the ground floor; in fact, every luxury imaginable. And then every evening, at
+the Coupeaus&rsquo;, he seemed to measure the height of the ceilings, study the
+arrangement of the rooms, and covet a similar lodging. Oh, he would never have
+asked for anything better, he would willingly have made himself a hole in that
+warm, quiet corner. Then each time he wound up his inspection with these words:
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;By Jove! you are comfortably situated here.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+One evening, when he had dined there, and was making the same remark during the
+dessert, Coupeau, who now treated him most familiarly, suddenly exclaimed:
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;You must stay here, old boy, if it suits you. It&rsquo;s easily
+arranged.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+And he explained that the dirty-clothes room, cleaned out, would make a nice
+apartment. Etienne could sleep in the shop, on a mattress on the floor, that
+was all.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;No, no,&rdquo; said Lantier, &ldquo;I cannot accept. It would
+inconvenience you too much. I know that it&rsquo;s willingly offered, but we
+should be too warm all jumbled up together. Besides, you know, each one likes
+his liberty. I should have to go through your room, and that wouldn&rsquo;t be
+exactly funny.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Ah, the rogue!&rdquo; resumed the zinc-worker, choking with laughter,
+banging his fist down on the table, &ldquo;he&rsquo;s always thinking of
+something smutty! But, you joker, we&rsquo;re of an inventive turn of mind!
+There&rsquo;re two windows in the room, aren&rsquo;t there? Well, we&rsquo;ll
+knock one out and turn it into a door. Then, you understand you come in by way
+of the courtyard, and we can even stop up the other door, if we like. Thus
+you&rsquo;ll be in your home, and we in ours.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+A pause ensued. At length the hatter murmured:
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Ah, yes, in that manner perhaps we might. And yet no, I should be too
+much in your way.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+He avoided looking at Gervaise. But he was evidently waiting for a word from
+her before accepting. She was very much annoyed at her husband&rsquo;s idea;
+not that the thought of seeing Lantier living with them wounded her feelings,
+or made her particularly uneasy, but she was wondering where she would be able
+to keep the dirty clothes. Coupeau was going on about the advantages of the
+arrangement. Their rent, five hundred francs, had always been a bit steep.
+Their friend could pay twenty francs a month for a nicely furnished room and it
+would help them with the rent. He would be responsible for fixing up a big box
+under their bed that would be large enough to hold all the dirty clothes.
+Gervaise still hesitated. She looked toward mother Coupeau for guidance.
+Lantier had won over mother Coupeau months ago by bringing her gum drops for
+her cough.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;You would certainly not be in our way,&rdquo; Gervaise ended by saying.
+&ldquo;We could so arrange things&mdash;&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;No, no, thanks,&rdquo; repeated the hatter. &ldquo;You&rsquo;re too
+kind; it would be asking too much.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Coupeau could no longer restrain himself. Was he going to continue making
+objections when they told him it was freely offered? He would be obliging them.
+There, did he understand? Then in an excited tone of voice he yelled:
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Etienne! Etienne!&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The youngster had fallen asleep on the table. He raised his head with a start.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Listen, tell him that you wish it. Yes, that gentleman there. Tell him
+as loud as you can: &lsquo;I wish it!&rsquo;&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;I wish it!&rdquo; stuttered Etienne, his voice thick with sleep.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Everyone laughed. But Lantier resumed his grave and impressive air. He squeezed
+Coupeau&rsquo;s hand across the table as he said:
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;I accept. It&rsquo;s in all good fellowship on both sides, is it not?
+Yes, I accept for the child&rsquo;s sake.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The next day when the landlord, Monsieur Marescot, came to spend an hour with
+the Boches, Gervaise mentioned the matter to him. He refused angrily at first.
+Then, after a careful inspection of the premises, particularly gazing upward to
+verify that the upper floors would not be weakened, he finally granted
+permission on condition there would be no expense to him. He had the Coupeaus
+sign a paper saying they would restore everything to its original state on the
+expiration of the lease.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Coupeau brought in some friends of his that very evening&mdash;a mason, a
+carpenter and a painter. They would do this job in the evenings as a favor to
+him. Still, installing the door and cleaning up the room cost over one hundred
+francs, not counting the wine that kept the work going. Coupeau told his
+friends he&rsquo;d pay them something later, out of the rent from his tenant.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Then the furniture for the room had to be sorted out. Gervaise left mother
+Coupeau&rsquo;s wardrobe where it was, and added a table and two chairs taken
+from her own room. She had to buy a washing-stand and a bed with mattress and
+bedclothes, costing one hundred and thirty francs, which she was to pay off at
+ten francs a month. Although Lantier&rsquo;s twenty francs would be used to pay
+off these debts for ten months, there would be a nice little profit later.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+It was during the early days of June that the hatter moved in. The day before,
+Coupeau had offered to go with him and fetch his box, to save him the thirty
+sous for a cab. But the other became quite embarrassed, saying that the box was
+too heavy, as though he wished up to the last moment to hide the place where he
+lodged. He arrived in the afternoon towards three o&rsquo;clock. Coupeau did
+not happen to be in. And Gervaise, standing at the shop door became quite pale
+on recognizing the box outside the cab. It was their old box, the one with
+which they had journeyed from Plassans, all scratched and broken now and held
+together by cords. She saw it return as she had often dreamt it would and it
+needed no great stretch of imagination to believe that the same cab, that cab
+in which that strumpet of a burnisher had played her such a foul trick, had
+brought the box back again. Meanwhile Boche was giving Lantier a helping hand.
+The laundress followed them in silence and feeling rather dazed. When they had
+deposited their burden in the middle of the room she said for the sake of
+saying something:
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Well! That&rsquo;s a good thing finished, isn&rsquo;t it?&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Then pulling herself together, seeing that Lantier, busy in undoing the cords
+was not even looking at her, she added:
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Monsieur Boche, you must have a drink.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+And she went and fetched a quart of wine and some glasses.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Just then Poisson passed along the pavement in uniform. She signaled to him,
+winking her eye and smiling. The policeman understood perfectly. When he was on
+duty and anyone winked their eye to him it meant a glass of wine. He would even
+walk for hours up and down before the laundry waiting for a wink. Then so as
+not to be seen, he would pass through the courtyard and toss off the liquor in
+secret.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Ah! ah!&rdquo; said Lantier when he saw him enter, &ldquo;it&rsquo;s
+you, Badingue.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+He called him Badingue for a joke, just to show how little he cared for the
+Emperor. Poisson put up with it in his stiff way without one knowing whether it
+really annoyed him or not. Besides the two men, though separated by their
+political convictions, had become very good friends.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;You know that the Emperor was once a policeman in London,&rdquo; said
+Boche in his turn. &ldquo;Yes, on my word! He used to take the drunken women to
+the station-house.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Gervaise had filled three glasses on the table. She would not drink herself,
+she felt too sick at heart, but she stood there longing to see what the box
+contained and watching Lantier remove the last cords. Before raising the lid
+Lantier took his glass and clinked it with the others.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Good health.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Same to you,&rdquo; replied Boche and Poisson.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The laundress filled the glasses again. The three men wiped their lips on the
+backs of their hands. And at last the hatter opened the box. It was full of a
+jumble of newspapers, books, old clothes and underlinen, in bundles. He took
+out successively a saucepan, a pair of boots, a bust of Ledru-Rollin with the
+nose broken, an embroidered shirt and a pair of working trousers. Gervaise
+could smell the odor of tobacco and that of a man whose linen wasn&rsquo;t too
+clean, one who took care only of the outside, of what people could see.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The old hat was no longer in the left corner. There was a pincushion she did
+not recognize, doubtless a present from some woman. She became calmer, but felt
+a vague sadness as she continued to watch the objects that appeared, wondering
+if they were from her time or from the time of others.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;I say, Badingue, do you know this?&rdquo; resumed Lantier.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+He thrust under his nose a little book printed at Brussels. &ldquo;The Amours
+of Napoleon III.,&rdquo; Illustrated with engravings. It related, among other
+anecdotes, how the Emperor had seduced a girl of thirteen, the daughter of a
+cook; and the picture represented Napoleon III., bare-legged, and also wearing
+the grand ribbon of the Legion of Honor, pursuing a little girl who was trying
+to escape his lust.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Ah! that&rsquo;s it exactly!&rdquo; exclaimed Boche, whose slyly
+ridiculous instincts felt flattered by the sight. &ldquo;It always happens like
+that!&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Poisson was seized with consternation, and he could not find a word to say in
+the Emperor&rsquo;s defense. It was in a book, so he could not deny it. Then,
+Lantier, continuing to push the picture under his nose in a jeering way, he
+extended his arms and exclaimed:
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Well, so what?&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Lantier didn&rsquo;t reply. He busied himself arranging his books and
+newspapers on a shelf in the wardrobe. He seemed upset not to have a small
+bookshelf over his table, so Gervaise promised to get him one. He had
+&ldquo;The History of Ten Years&rdquo; by Louis Blanc (except for the first
+volume), Lamartine&rsquo;s &ldquo;The Girondins&rdquo; in installments,
+&ldquo;The Mysteries of Paris&rdquo; and &ldquo;The Wandering Jew&rdquo; by
+Eugene Sue, and a quantity of booklets on philosophic and humanitarian subjects
+picked up from used book dealers.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+His newspapers were his prized possessions, a collection made over a number of
+years. Whenever he read an article in a cafe that seemed to him to agree with
+his own ideas, he would buy that newspaper and keep it. He had an enormous
+bundle of them, papers of every date and every title, piled up in no
+discernable order. He patted them and said to the other two:
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;You see that? No one else can boast of having anything to match it. You
+can&rsquo;t imagine all that&rsquo;s in there. I mean, if they put into
+practice only half the ideas, it would clean up the social order overnight.
+That would be good medicine for your Emperor and all his stool pigeons.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The policeman&rsquo;s red mustache and beard began to bristle on his pale face
+and he interrupted:
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;And the army, tell me, what are you going to do about that?&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Lantier flew into a passion. He banged his fists down on the newspapers as he
+yelled:
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;I require the suppression of militarism, the fraternity of peoples. I
+require the abolition of privileges, of titles, and of monopolies. I require
+the equality of salaries, the division of benefits, the glorification of the
+protectorate. All liberties, do you hear? All of them! And divorce!&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Yes, yes, divorce for morality!&rdquo; insisted Boche.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Poisson had assumed a majestic air.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Yet if I won&rsquo;t have your liberties, I&rsquo;m free to refuse
+them,&rdquo; he answered.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Lantier was choking with passion.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;If you don&rsquo;t want them&mdash;if you don&rsquo;t want
+them&mdash;&rdquo; he replied. &ldquo;No, you&rsquo;re not free at all! If you
+don&rsquo;t want them, I&rsquo;ll send you off to Devil&rsquo;s Island. Yes,
+Devil&rsquo;s Island with your Emperor and all the rats of his crew.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+They always quarreled thus every time they met. Gervaise, who did not like
+arguments, usually interfered. She roused herself from the torpor into which
+the sight of the box, full of the stale perfume of her past love, had plunged
+her, and she drew the three men&rsquo;s attention to the glasses.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Ah! yes,&rdquo; said Lantier, becoming suddenly calm and taking his
+glass. &ldquo;Good health!&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Good health!&rdquo; replied Boche and Poisson, clinking glasses with
+him.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Boche, however, was moving nervously about, troubled by an anxiety as he looked
+at the policeman out of the corner of his eye.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;All this between ourselves, eh, Monsieur Poisson?&rdquo; murmured he at
+length. &ldquo;We say and show you things to show off.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+But Poisson did not let him finish. He placed his hand upon his heart, as
+though to explain that all remained buried there. He certainly did not go
+spying about on his friends. Coupeau arriving, they emptied a second quart.
+Then the policeman went off by way of the courtyard and resumed his stiff and
+measured tread along the pavement.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+At the beginning of the new arrangement, the entire routine of the
+establishment was considerably upset. Lantier had his own separate room, with
+his own entrance and his own key. However, since they had decided not to close
+off the door between the rooms, he usually came and went through the shop.
+Besides, the dirty clothes were an inconvenience to Gervaise because her
+husband never made the case he had promised and she had to tuck the dirty
+laundry into any odd corner she could find. They usually ended up under the bed
+and this was not very pleasant on warm summer nights. She also found it a
+nuisance having to make up Etienne&rsquo;s bed every evening in the shop. When
+her employees worked late, the lad had to sleep in a chair until they finished.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Goujet had mentioned sending Etienne to Lille where a machinist he knew was
+looking for apprentices. As the boy was unhappy at home and eager to be out on
+his own, Gervaise seriously considered the proposal. Her only fear was that
+Lantier would refuse. Since he had come to live with them solely to be near his
+son, surely he wouldn&rsquo;t want to lose him only two weeks after he moved
+in. However he approved whole-heartedly when she timidly broached the matter to
+him. He said that young men needed to see a bit of the country. The morning
+that Etienne left Lantier made a speech to him, kissed him and ended by saying:
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Never forget that a workingman is not a slave, and that whoever is not a
+workingman is a lazy drone.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The household was now able to get into the new routine. Gervaise became
+accustomed to having dirty laundry lying all around. Lantier was forever
+talking of important business deals. Sometimes he went out, wearing fresh linen
+and neatly combed. He would stay out all night and on his return pretend that
+he was completely exhausted because he had been discussing very serious
+matters. Actually he was merely taking life easy. He usually slept until ten.
+In the afternoons he would take a walk if the weather was nice. If it was
+raining, he would sit in the shop reading his newspaper. This atmosphere suited
+him. He always felt at his ease with women and enjoyed listening to them.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Lantier first took his meals at Francois&rsquo;s, at the corner of the Rue des
+Poissonniers. But of the seven days in the week he dined with the Coupeaus on
+three or four; so much so that he ended by offering to board with them and to
+pay them fifteen francs every Saturday. From that time he scarcely ever left
+the house, but made himself completely at home there. Morning to night he was
+in the shop, even giving orders and attending to customers.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Lantier didn&rsquo;t like the wine from Francois&rsquo;s, so he persuaded
+Gervaise to buy her wine from Vigouroux, the coal-dealer. Then he decided that
+Coudeloup&rsquo;s bread was not baked to his satisfaction, so he sent Augustine
+to the Viennese bakery in the Faubourg Poissonniers for their bread. He changed
+from the grocer Lehongre but kept the butcher, fat Charles, because of his
+political opinions. After a month he wanted all the cooking done with olive
+oil. Clemence joked that with a Provencal like him you could never wash out the
+oil stains. He wanted his omelets fried on both sides, as hard as pancakes. He
+supervised mother Coupeau&rsquo;s cooking, wanting his steaks cooked like shoe
+leather and with garlic on everything. He got angry if she put herbs in the
+salad.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;They&rsquo;re just weeds and some of them might be poisonous,&rdquo; he
+declared. His favorite soup was made with over-boiled vermicelli. He would pour
+in half a bottle of olive oil. Only he and Gervaise could eat this soup, the
+others being too used to Parisian cooking.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Little by little Lantier also came to mixing himself up in the affairs of the
+family. As the Lorilleuxs always grumbled at having to part with the five
+francs for mother Coupeau, he explained that an action could be brought against
+them. They must think that they had a set of fools to deal with! It was ten
+francs a month which they ought to give! And he would go up himself for the ten
+francs so boldly and yet so amiably that the chainmaker never dared refuse
+them. Madame Lerat also gave two five-franc pieces now. Mother Coupeau could
+have kissed Lantier&rsquo;s hands. He was, moreover, the grand arbiter in all
+the quarrels between the old woman and Gervaise. Whenever the laundress, in a
+moment of impatience, behaved roughly to her mother-in-law and the latter went
+and cried on her bed, he hustled them about and made them kiss each other,
+asking them if they thought themselves amusing with their bad tempers.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+And Nana, too; she was being brought up badly, according to his idea. In that
+he was right, for whenever the father spanked the child, the mother took her
+part, and if the mother, in her turn, boxed her ears, the father made a
+disturbance. Nana delighted at seeing her parents abuse each other, and knowing
+that she was forgiven beforehand, was up to all kinds of tricks. Her latest
+mania was to go and play in the blacksmith shop opposite; she would pass the
+entire day swinging on the shafts of the carts; she would hide with bands of
+urchins in the remotest corners of the gray courtyard, lighted up with the red
+glare of the forge; and suddenly she would reappear, running and shouting,
+unkempt and dirty and followed by the troop of urchins, as though a sudden
+clash of the hammers had frightened the ragamuffins away. Lantier alone could
+scold her; and yet she knew perfectly well how to get over him. This tricky
+little girl of ten would walk before him like a lady, swinging herself about
+and casting side glances at him, her eyes already full of vice. He had ended by
+undertaking her education: he taught her to dance and to talk patois.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+A year passed thus. In the neighborhood it was thought that Lantier had a
+private income, for this was the only way to account for the Coupeaus&rsquo;
+grand style of living. No doubt Gervaise continued to earn money; but now that
+she had to support two men in doing nothing, the shop certainly could not
+suffice; more especially as the shop no longer had so good a reputation,
+customers were leaving and the workwomen were tippling from morning till night.
+The truth was that Lantier paid nothing, neither for rent nor board. During the
+first months he had paid sums on account, then he had contented himself with
+speaking of a large amount he was going to receive, with which later on he
+would pay off everything in a lump sum. Gervaise no longer dared ask him for a
+centime. She had the bread, the wine, the meat, all on credit. The bills
+increased everywhere at the rate of three and four francs a day. She had not
+paid a sou to the furniture dealer nor to the three comrades, the mason, the
+carpenter and the painter. All these people commenced to grumble, and she was
+no longer greeted with the same politeness at the shops.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+She was as though intoxicated by a mania for getting into debt; she tried to
+drown her thoughts, ordered the most expensive things, and gave full freedom to
+her gluttony now that she no longer paid for anything; she remained withal very
+honest at heart, dreaming of earning from morning to night hundreds of francs,
+though she did not exactly know how, to enable her to distribute handfuls of
+five-franc pieces to her tradespeople. In short, she was sinking, and as she
+sank lower and lower she talked of extending her business. Instead she went
+deeper into debt. Clemence left around the middle of the summer because there
+was no longer enough work for two women and she had not been paid in several
+weeks.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+During this impending ruin, Coupeau and Lantier were, in effect, devouring the
+shop and growing fat on the ruin of the establishment. At table they would
+challenge each other to take more helpings and slap their rounded stomachs to
+make more room for dessert.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The great subject of conversation in the neighborhood was as to whether Lantier
+had really gone back to his old footing with Gervaise. On this point opinions
+were divided. According to the Lorilleuxs, Clump-clump was doing everything she
+could to hook Lantier again, but he would no longer have anything to do with
+her because she was getting old and faded and he had plenty of younger girls
+that were prettier. On the other hand, according to the Boches, Gervaise had
+gone back to her former mate the very first night, just as soon as poor Coupeau
+had gone to sleep. The picture was not pretty, but there were a lot of worse
+things in life, so folks ended by accepting the threesome as altogether
+natural. In fact, they thought them rather nice since there were never any
+fights and the outward decencies remained. Certainly if you stuck your nose
+into some of the other neighborhood households you could smell far worse
+things. So what if they slept together like a nice little family. It never kept
+the neighbors awake. Besides, everyone was still very much impressed by
+Lantier&rsquo;s good manners. His charm helped greatly to keep tongues from
+wagging. Indeed, when the fruit dealer insisted to the tripe seller that there
+had been no intimacies, the latter appeared to feel that this was really too
+bad, because it made the Coupeaus less interesting.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Gervaise was quite at her ease in this matter, and not much troubled with these
+thoughts. Things reached the point that she was accused of being heartless. The
+family did not understand why she continued to bear a grudge against the
+hatter. Madame Lerat now came over every evening. She considered Lantier as
+utterly irresistible and said that most ladies would be happy to fall into his
+arms. Madame Boche declared that her own virtue would not be safe if she were
+ten years younger. There was a sort of silent conspiracy to push Gervaise into
+the arms of Lantier, as if all the women around her felt driven to satisfy
+their own longings by giving her a lover. Gervaise didn&rsquo;t understand this
+because she no longer found Lantier seductive. Certainly he had changed for the
+better. He had gotten a sort of education in the cafes and political meetings
+but she knew him well. She could pierce to the depths of his soul and she found
+things there that still gave her the shivers. Well, if the others found him so
+attractive, why didn&rsquo;t they try it themselves. In the end she suggested
+this one day to Virginie who seemed the most eager. Then, to excite Gervaise,
+Madame Lerat and Virginie told her of the love of Lantier and tall Clemence.
+Yes, she had not noticed anything herself; but as soon as she went out on an
+errand, the hatter would bring the workgirl into his room. Now people met them
+out together; he probably went to see her at her own place.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Well,&rdquo; said the laundress, her voice trembling slightly,
+&ldquo;what can it matter to me?&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+She looked straight into Virginie&rsquo;s eyes. Did this woman still have it in
+for her?
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Virginie replied with an air of innocence:
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;It can&rsquo;t matter to you, of course. Only, you ought to advise him
+to break off with that girl, who is sure to cause him some
+unpleasantness.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The worst of it was that Lantier, feeling himself supported by public opinion,
+changed altogether in his behavior towards Gervaise. Now, whenever he shook
+hands with her, he held her fingers for a minute between his own. He tried her
+with his glance, fixing a bold look upon her, in which she clearly read that he
+wanted her. If he passed behind her, he dug his knees into her skirt, or
+breathed upon her neck. Yet he waited a while before being rough and openly
+declaring himself. But one evening, finding himself alone with her, he pushed
+her before him without a word, and viewed her all trembling against the wall at
+the back of the shop, and tried to kiss her. It so chanced that Goujet entered
+just at that moment. Then she struggled and escaped. And all three exchanged a
+few words, as though nothing had happened. Goujet, his face deadly pale, looked
+on the ground, fancying that he had disturbed them, and that she had merely
+struggled so as not to be kissed before a third party.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The next day Gervaise moved restlessly about the shop. She was miserable and
+unable to iron even a single handkerchief. She only wanted to see Goujet and
+explain to him how Lantier happened to have pinned her against the wall. But
+since Etienne had gone to Lille, she had hesitated to visit Goujet&rsquo;s
+forge where she felt she would be greeted by his fellow workers with secret
+laughter. This afternoon, however, she yielded to the impulse. She took an
+empty basket and went out under the pretext of going for the petticoats of her
+customer on Rue des Portes-Blanches. Then, when she reached Rue Marcadet, she
+walked very slowly in front of the bolt factory, hoping for a lucky meeting.
+Goujet must have been hoping to see her, too, for within five minutes he came
+out as if by chance.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;You have been on an errand,&rdquo; he said, smiling. &ldquo;And now you
+are on your way home.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Actually Gervaise had her back toward Rue des Poissonniers. He only said that
+for something to say. They walked together up toward Montmartre, but without
+her taking his arm. They wanted to get a bit away from the factory so as not to
+seem to be having a rendezvous in front of it. They turned into a vacant lot
+between a sawmill and a button factory. It was like a small green meadow. There
+was even a goat tied to a stake.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;It&rsquo;s strange,&rdquo; remarked Gervaise. &ldquo;You&rsquo;d think
+you were in the country.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+They went to sit under a dead tree. Gervaise placed the laundry basket by her
+feet.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Yes,&rdquo; Gervaise said, &ldquo;I had an errand to do, and so I came
+out.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+She felt deeply ashamed and was afraid to try to explain. Yet she realized that
+they had come here to discuss it. It remained a troublesome burden.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Then, all in a rush, with tears in her eyes, she told him of the death that
+morning of Madame Bijard, her washerwoman. She had suffered horrible agonies.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Her husband caused it by kicking her in the stomach,&rdquo; she said in
+a monotone. &ldquo;He must have damaged her insides. <i>Mon Dieu!</i> She was
+in agony for three days with her stomach all swelled up. Plenty of scoundrels
+have been sent to the galleys for less than that, but the courts won&rsquo;t
+concern themselves with a wife-beater. Especially since the woman said she had
+hurt herself falling. She wanted to save him from the scaffold, but she
+screamed all night long before she died.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Goujet clenched his hands and remained silent.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;She weaned her youngest only two weeks ago, little Jules,&rdquo;
+Gervaise went on. &ldquo;That&rsquo;s lucky for the baby, he won&rsquo;t have
+to suffer. Still, there&rsquo;s the child Lalie and she has two babies to look
+after. She isn&rsquo;t eight yet, but she&rsquo;s already sensible. Her father
+will beat her now even more than before.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Goujet gazed at her silently. Then, his lips trembling:
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;You hurt me yesterday, yes, you hurt me badly.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Gervaise turned pale and clasped her hands as he continued:
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;I thought it would happen. You should have told me, you should have
+trusted me enough to confess what was happening, so as not to leave me thinking
+that&mdash;&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Goujet could not finish the sentence. Gervaise stood up, realizing that he
+thought she had gone back with Lantier as the neighbors asserted. Stretching
+her arms toward him, she cried:
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;No, no, I swear to you. He was pushing against me, trying to kiss me,
+but his face never even touched mine. It&rsquo;s true, and that was the first
+time he tried. Oh, I swear on my life, on the life of my children, oh, believe
+me!&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Goujet was shaking his head. Gervaise said slowly:
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Monsieur Goujet, you know me well. You know that I do not lie. On my
+word of honor, it never happened, and it never will, do you understand? Never!
+I&rsquo;d be the lowest of the low if it ever happened, and I wouldn&rsquo;t
+deserve the friendship of an honest man like you.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+She seemed so sincere that he took her hand and made her sit down again. He
+could breathe freely; his heart rejoiced. This was the first time he had ever
+held her hand like this. He pressed it in his own and they both sat quietly for
+a time.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;I know your mother doesn&rsquo;t like me,&rdquo; Gervaise said in a low
+voice. &ldquo;Don&rsquo;t bother to deny it. We owe you so much money.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+He squeezed her hand tightly. He didn&rsquo;t want to talk of money. Finally he
+said:
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;I&rsquo;ve been thinking of something for a long time. You are not happy
+where you are. My mother tells me things are getting worse for you. Well, then,
+we can go away together.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+She didn&rsquo;t understand at first and stared at him, startled by this sudden
+declaration of a love that he had never mentioned.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Finally she asked:
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;What do you mean?&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;We&rsquo;ll get away from here,&rdquo; he said, looking down at the
+ground. &ldquo;We&rsquo;ll go live somewhere else, in Belgium, if you wish.
+With both of us working, we would soon be very comfortable.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Gervaise flushed. She thought she would have felt less shame if he had taken
+her in his arms and kissed her. Goujet was an odd fellow, proposing to elope,
+just the way it happens in novels. Well, she had seen plenty of workingmen
+making up to married women, but they never took them even as far as
+Saint-Denis.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Ah, Monsieur Goujet,&rdquo; she murmured, not knowing what else to say.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Don&rsquo;t you see?&rdquo; he said. &ldquo;There would only be the two
+of us. It annoys me having others around.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Having regained her self-possession, however, she refused his proposal.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;It&rsquo;s impossible, Monsieur Goujet. It would be very wrong.
+I&rsquo;m a married woman and I have children. We&rsquo;d soon regret it. I
+know you care for me, and I care for you also, too much to let you do anything
+foolish. It&rsquo;s much better to stay just as we are. We have respect for
+each other and that&rsquo;s a lot. It&rsquo;s been a comfort to me many times.
+When people in our situation stay on the straight, it is better in the
+end.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+He nodded his head as he listened. He agreed with her and was unable to offer
+any arguments. Suddenly he pulled her into his arms and kissed her, crushing
+her. Then he let her go and said nothing more about their love. She
+wasn&rsquo;t angry. She felt they had earned that small moment of pleasure.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Goujet now didn&rsquo;t know what to do with his hands, so he went around
+picking dandelions and tossing them into her basket. This amused him and
+gradually soothed him. Gervaise was becoming relaxed and cheerful. When they
+finally left the vacant lot they walked side by side and talked of how much
+Etienne liked being at Lille. Her basket was full of yellow dandelions.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Gervaise, at heart, did not feel as courageous when with Lantier as she said.
+She was, indeed, perfectly resolved not to hear his flattery, even with the
+slightest interest; but she was afraid, if ever he should touch her, of her old
+cowardice, of that feebleness and gloominess into which she allowed herself to
+glide, just to please people. Lantier, however, did not avow his affection. He
+several times found himself alone with her and kept quiet. He seemed to think
+of marrying the tripe-seller, a woman of forty-five and very well preserved.
+Gervaise would talk of the tripe-seller in Goujet&rsquo;s presence, so as to
+set his mind at ease. She would say to Virginie and Madame Lerat, whenever they
+were singing the hatter&rsquo;s praises, that he could very well do without her
+admiration, because all the women of the neighborhood were smitten with him.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Coupeau went braying about everywhere that Lantier was a friend and a true one.
+People might jabber about them; he knew what he knew and did not care a straw
+for their gossip, for he had respectability on his side. When they all three
+went out walking on Sundays, he made his wife and the hatter walk arm-in-arm
+before him, just by way of swaggering in the street; and he watched the people,
+quite prepared to administer a drubbing if anyone had ventured on the least
+joke. It was true that he regarded Lantier as a bit of a high flyer. He accused
+him of avoiding hard liquor and teased him because he could read and spoke like
+an educated man. Still, he accepted him as a regular comrade. They were ideally
+suited to each other and friendship between men is more substantial than love
+for a woman.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Coupeau and Lantier were forever going out junketing together. Lantier would
+now borrow money from Gervaise&mdash;ten francs, twenty francs at a time,
+whenever he smelt there was money in the house. Then on those days he would
+keep Coupeau away from his work, talk of some distant errand and take him with
+him. Then seated opposite to each other in the corner of some neighboring
+eating house, they would guzzle fancy dishes which one cannot get at home and
+wash them down with bottles of expensive wine. The zinc-worker would have
+preferred to booze in a less pretentious place, but he was impressed by the
+aristocratic tastes of Lantier, who would discover on the bill of fare dishes
+with the most extraordinary names.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+It was hard to understand a man so hard to please. Maybe it was from being a
+southerner. Lantier didn&rsquo;t like anything too rich and argued about every
+dish, sending back meat that was too salty or too peppery. He hated drafts. If
+a door was left open, he complained loudly. At the same time, he was very
+stingy, only giving the waiter a tip of two sous for a meal of seven or eight
+francs. He was treated with respect in spite of that.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The pair were well known along the exterior boulevards, from Batignolles to
+Belleville. They would go to the Grand Rue des Batignolles to eat tripe cooked
+in the Caen style. At the foot of Montmartre they obtained the best oysters in
+the neighborhood at the &ldquo;Town of Bar-le-Duc.&rdquo; When they ventured to
+the top of the height as far as the &ldquo;Galette Windmill&rdquo; they had a
+stewed rabbit. The &ldquo;Lilacs,&rdquo; in the Rue des Martyrs, had a
+reputation for their calf&rsquo;s head, whilst the restaurant of the
+&ldquo;Golden Lion&rdquo; and the &ldquo;Two Chestnut Trees,&rdquo; in the
+Chaussee Clignancourt, served them stewed kidneys which made them lick their
+lips. Usually they went toward Belleville where they had tables reserved for
+them at some places of such excellent repute that you could order anything with
+your eyes closed. These eating sprees were always surreptitious and the next
+day they would refer to them indirectly while playing with the potatoes served
+by Gervaise. Once Lantier brought a woman with him to the &ldquo;Galette
+Windmill&rdquo; and Coupeau left immediately after dessert.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+One naturally cannot both guzzle and work; so that ever since the hatter was
+made one of the family, the zinc-worker, who was already pretty lazy, had got
+to the point of never touching a tool. When tired of doing nothing, he
+sometimes let himself be prevailed upon to take a job. Then his comrade would
+look him up and chaff him unmercifully when he found him hanging to his knotty
+cord like a smoked ham, and he would call to him to come down and have a glass
+of wine. And that settled it. The zinc-worker would send the job to blazes and
+commence a booze which lasted days and weeks. Oh, it was a famous booze&mdash;a
+general review of all the dram shops of the neighborhood, the intoxication of
+the morning slept off by midday and renewed in the evening; the goes of
+&ldquo;vitriol&rdquo; succeeded one another, becoming lost in the depths of the
+night, like the Venetian lanterns of an illumination, until the last candle
+disappeared with the last glass! That rogue of a hatter never kept on to the
+end. He let the other get elevated, then gave him the slip and returned home
+smiling in his pleasant way. He could drink a great deal without people
+noticing it. When one got to know him well one could only tell it by his
+half-closed eyes and his overbold behavior to women. The zinc-worker, on the
+contrary, became quite disgusting, and could no longer drink without putting
+himself into a beastly state.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Thus, towards the beginning of November, Coupeau went in for a booze which
+ended in a most dirty manner, both for himself and the others. The day before
+he had been offered a job. This time Lantier was full of fine sentiments; he
+lauded work, because work ennobles a man. In the morning he even rose before it
+was light, for he gravely wished to accompany his friend to the workshop,
+honoring in him the workman really worthy of the name. But when they arrived
+before the &ldquo;Little Civet,&rdquo; which was just opening, they entered to
+have a plum in brandy, only one, merely to drink together to the firm
+observance of a good resolution. On a bench opposite the counter, and with his
+back against the wall, Bibi-the-Smoker was sitting smoking with a sulky look on
+his face.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Hallo! Here&rsquo;s Bibi having a snooze,&rdquo; said Coupeau.
+&ldquo;Are you down in the dumps, old bloke?&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;No, no,&rdquo; replied the comrade, stretching his arm.
+&ldquo;It&rsquo;s the employers who disgust me. I sent mine to the right about
+yesterday. They&rsquo;re all toads and scoundrels.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Bibi-the-Smoker accepted a plum. He was, no doubt, waiting there on that bench
+for someone to stand him a drink. Lantier, however, took the part of the
+employers; they often had some very hard times, as he who had been in business
+himself well knew. The workers were a bad lot, forever getting drunk! They
+didn&rsquo;t take their work seriously. Sometimes they quit in the middle of a
+job and only returned when they needed something in their pockets. Then Lantier
+would switch his attack to the employers. They were nasty exploiters, regular
+cannibals. But he could sleep with a clear conscience as he had always acted as
+a friend to his employees. He didn&rsquo;t want to get rich the way others did.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Let&rsquo;s be off, my boy,&rdquo; he said, speaking to Coupeau.
+&ldquo;We must be going or we shall be late.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Bibi-the-Smoker followed them, swinging his arms. Outside the sun was scarcely
+rising, the pale daylight seemed dirtied by the muddy reflection of the
+pavement; it had rained the night before and it was very mild. The gas lamps
+had just been turned out; the Rue des Poissonniers, in which shreds of night
+rent by the houses still floated, was gradually filling with the dull tramp of
+the workmen descending towards Paris. Coupeau, with his zinc-worker&rsquo;s bag
+slung over his shoulder, walked along in the imposing manner of a fellow who
+feels in good form for a change. He turned round and asked:
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Bibi, do you want a job. The boss told me to bring a pal if I
+could.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;No thanks,&rdquo; answered Bibi-the-Smoker; &ldquo;I&rsquo;m purging
+myself. You should ask My-Boots. He was looking for something yesterday. Wait a
+minute. My-Boots is most likely in there.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+And as they reached the bottom of the street they indeed caught sight of
+My-Boots inside Pere Colombe&rsquo;s. In spite of the early hour
+l&rsquo;Assommoir was flaring, the shutters down, the gas lighted. Lantier
+stood at the door, telling Coupeau to make haste, because they had only ten
+minutes left.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;What! You&rsquo;re going to work for that rascal Bourguignon?&rdquo;
+yelled My-Boots, when the zinc-worker had spoken to him. &ldquo;You&rsquo;ll
+never catch me in his hutch again! No, I&rsquo;d rather go till next year with
+my tongue hanging out of my mouth. But, old fellow, you won&rsquo;t stay three
+days, and it&rsquo;s I who tell you so.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Really now, is it such a dirty hole?&rdquo; asked Coupeau anxiously.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Oh, it&rsquo;s about the dirtiest. You can&rsquo;t move there. The
+ape&rsquo;s for ever on your back. And such queer ways too&mdash;a missus who
+always says you&rsquo;re drunk, a shop where you mustn&rsquo;t spit. I sent
+them to the right about the first night, you know.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Good; now I&rsquo;m warned. I shan&rsquo;t stop there for ever.
+I&rsquo;ll just go this morning to see what it&rsquo;s like; but if the boss
+bothers me, I&rsquo;ll catch him up and plant him upon his missus, you know,
+bang together like two fillets of sole!&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Then Coupeau thanked his friend for the useful information and shook his hand.
+As he was about to leave, My-Boots cursed angrily. Was that lousy Bourguignon
+going to stop them from having a drink? Weren&rsquo;t they free any more? He
+could well wait another five minutes. Lantier came in to share in the round and
+they stood together at the counter. My-Boots, with his smock black with dirt
+and his cap flattened on his head had recently been proclaimed king of pigs and
+drunks after he had eaten a salad of live beetles and chewed a piece of a dead
+cat.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Say there, old Borgia,&rdquo; he called to Pere Colombe, &ldquo;give us
+some of your yellow stuff, first class mule&rsquo;s wine.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+And when Pere Colombe, pale and quiet in his blue-knitted waistcoat, had filled
+the four glasses, these gentlemen tossed them off, so as not to let the liquor
+get flat.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;That does some good when it goes down,&rdquo; murmured Bibi-the-Smoker.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The comic My-Boots had a story to tell. He was so drunk on the Friday that his
+comrades had stuck his pipe in his mouth with a handful of plaster. Anyone else
+would have died of it; he merely strutted about and puffed out his chest.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Do you gentlemen require anything more?&rdquo; asked Pere Colombe in his
+oily voice.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Yes, fill us up again,&rdquo; said Lantier. &ldquo;It&rsquo;s my
+turn.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Now they were talking of women. Bibi-the-Smoker had taken his girl to an
+aunt&rsquo;s at Montrouge on the previous Sunday. Coupeau asked for the news of
+the &ldquo;Indian Mail,&rdquo; a washerwoman of Chaillot who was known in the
+establishment. They were about to drink, when My-Boots loudly called to Goujet
+and Lorilleux who were passing by. They came just to the door, but would not
+enter. The blacksmith did not care to take anything. The chainmaker, pale and
+shivering, held in his pocket the gold chains he was going to deliver; and he
+coughed and asked them to excuse him, saying that the least drop of brandy
+would nearly make him split his sides.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;There are hypocrites for you!&rdquo; grunted My-Boots. &ldquo;I bet they
+have their drinks on the sly.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+And when he had poked his nose in his glass he attacked Pere Colombe.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Vile druggist, you&rsquo;ve changed the bottle! You know it&rsquo;s no
+good your trying to palm your cheap stuff off on me.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The day had advanced; a doubtful sort of light lit up l&rsquo;Assommoir, where
+the landlord was turning out the gas. Coupeau found excuses for his
+brother-in-law who could not stand drink, which after all was no crime. He even
+approved Goujet&rsquo;s behavior for it was a real blessing never to be
+thirsty. And as he talked of going off to his work Lantier, with his grand air
+of a gentleman, sharply gave him a lesson. One at least stood one&rsquo;s turn
+before sneaking off; one should not leave one&rsquo;s friends like a mean
+blackguard, even when going to do one&rsquo;s duty.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Is he going to badger us much longer about his work?&rdquo; cried
+My-Boots.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;So this is your turn, sir?&rdquo; asked Pere Colombe of Coupeau.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The latter paid. But when it came to Bibi-the-Smoker&rsquo;s turn he whispered
+to the landlord who refused with a shake of the head. My-Boots understood, and
+again set to abusing the old Jew Colombe. What! A rascal like him dared to
+behave in that way to a comrade! Everywhere else one could get drink on tick!
+It was only in such low boozing-dens that one was insulted! The landlord
+remained calm, leaning his big fists on the edge of the counter. He politely
+said:
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Lend the gentleman some money&mdash;that will be far simpler.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;<i>Mon Dieu!</i> Yes, I&rsquo;ll lend him some,&rdquo; yelled My-Boots.
+&ldquo;Here! Bibi, throw this money in his face, the limb of Satan!&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Then, excited and annoyed at seeing Coupeau with his bag slung over his
+shoulder, he continued speaking to the zinc-worker:
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;You look like a wet-nurse. Drop your brat. It&rsquo;ll give you a
+hump-back.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Coupeau hesitated an instant; and then, quietly, as though he had only made up
+his mind after considerable reflection, he laid his bag on the ground saying:
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;It&rsquo;s too late now. I&rsquo;ll go to Bourguignon&rsquo;s after
+lunch. I&rsquo;ll tell him that the missus was ill. Listen, Pere Colombe,
+I&rsquo;ll leave my tools under this seat and I&rsquo;ll call for them at
+twelve o&rsquo;clock.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Lantier gave his blessing to this arrangement with an approving nod. Labor was
+necessary, yes, but when you&rsquo;re with good friends, courtesy comes first.
+Now the four had five hours of idleness before them. They were full of noisy
+merriment. Coupeau was especially relieved. They had another round and then
+went to a small bar that had a billiard table.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+At first Lantier turned up his nose at this establishment because it was rather
+shabby. So much liquor had been spilled on the billiard table that the balls
+stuck to it. Once the game got started though, Lantier recovered his good humor
+and began to flaunt his extraordinary knack with a cue.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+When lunch time came Coupeau had an idea. He stamped his feet and cried:
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;We must go and fetch Salted-Mouth. I know where he&rsquo;s working.
+We&rsquo;ll take him to Mere Louis&rsquo; to have some pettitoes.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The idea was greeted with acclamation. Yes, Salted-Mouth, otherwise
+Drink-without-Thirst, was no doubt in want of some pettitoes. They started off.
+Coupeau took them to the bolt factory in the Rue Marcadet. As they arrived a
+good half hour before the time the workmen came out, the zinc-worker gave a
+youngster two sous to go in and tell Salted-Mouth that his wife was ill and
+wanted him at once. The blacksmith made his appearance, waddling in his walk,
+looking very calm, and scenting a tuck-out.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Ah! you jokers!&rdquo; said he, as soon as he caught sight of them
+hiding in a doorway. &ldquo;I guessed it. Well, what are we going to
+eat?&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+At mother Louis&rsquo;, whilst they sucked the little bones of the pettitoes,
+they again fell to abusing the employers. Salted-Mouth, otherwise
+Drink-without-Thirst, related that they had a most pressing order to execute at
+the shop. Oh! the ape was pleasant for the time being. One could be late, and
+he would say nothing; he no doubt considered himself lucky when one turned up
+at all. At any rate, no boss would dare to throw Salted-Mouth out the door,
+because you couldn&rsquo;t find lads of his capacity any more. After the
+pettitoes they had an omelet. When each of them had emptied his bottle, Mere
+Louis brought out some Auvergne wine, thick enough to cut with a knife. The
+party was really warming up.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;What do you think is the ape&rsquo;s latest idea?&rdquo; cried
+Salted-Mouth at dessert. &ldquo;Why, he&rsquo;s been and put a bell up in his
+shed! A bell! That&rsquo;s good for slaves. Ah, well! It can ring to-day! They
+won&rsquo;t catch me again at the anvil! For five days past I&rsquo;ve been
+sticking there; I may give myself a rest now. If he deducts anything,
+I&rsquo;ll send him to blazes.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;I,&rdquo; said Coupeau, with an air of importance, &ldquo;I&rsquo;m
+obliged to leave you; I&rsquo;m off to work. Yes, I promised my wife. Amuse
+yourselves; my spirit you know remains with my pals.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The others chuffed him. But he seemed so decided that they all accompanied him
+when he talked of going to fetch his tools from Pere Colombe&rsquo;s. He took
+his bag from under the seat and laid it on the ground before him whilst they
+had a final drink. But at one o&rsquo;clock the party was still standing
+drinks. Then Coupeau, with a bored gesture placed the tools back again under
+the seat. They were in his way; he could not get near the counter without
+stumbling against them. It was too absurd; he would go to Bourguignon&rsquo;s
+on the morrow. The other four, who were quarrelling about the question of
+salaries, were not at all surprised when the zinc-worker, without any
+explanation, proposed a little stroll on the Boulevard, just to stretch their
+legs. They didn&rsquo;t go very far. They seemed to have nothing to say to each
+other out in the fresh air. Without even consulting each other with so much as
+a nudge, they slowly and instinctively ascended the Rue des Poissonniers, where
+they went to Francois&rsquo;s and had a glass of wine out of the bottle.
+Lantier pushed his comrades inside the private room at the back; it was a
+narrow place with only one table in it, and was separated from the shop by a
+dull glazed partition. He liked to do his drinking in private rooms because it
+seemed more respectable. Didn&rsquo;t they like it here? It was as comfortable
+as being at home. You could even take a nap here without being embarrassed. He
+called for the newspaper, spread it out open before him, and looked through it,
+frowning the while. Coupeau and My-Boots had commenced a game of piquet. Two
+bottles of wine and five glasses were scattered about the table.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+They emptied their glasses. Then Lantier read out loud:
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;A frightful crime has just spread consternation throughout the Commune
+of Gaillon, Department of Seine-et-Marne. A son has killed his father with
+blows from a spade in order to rob him of thirty sous.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+They all uttered a cry of horror. There was a fellow whom they would have taken
+great pleasure in seeing guillotined! No, the guillotine was not enough; he
+deserved to be cut into little pieces. The story of an infanticide equally
+aroused their indignation; but the hatter, highly moral, found excuses for the
+woman, putting all the wrong on the back of her husband; for after all, if some
+beast of a man had not put the wretched woman into the way of bleak poverty,
+she could not have drowned it in a water closet.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+They were most delighted though by the exploit of a Marquis who, coming out of
+a dance hall at two in the morning, had defended himself against an attack by
+three blackguards on the Boulevard des Invalides. Without taking off his
+gloves, he had disposed of the first two villains by ramming his head into
+their stomachs, and then had marched the third one off to the police. What a
+man! Too bad he was a noble.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Listen to this now,&rdquo; continued Lantier. &ldquo;Here&rsquo;s some
+society news: &lsquo;A marriage is arranged between the eldest daughter of the
+Countess de Bretigny and the young Baron de Valancay, aide-de-camp to His
+Majesty. The wedding trousseau will contain more than three hundred thousand
+francs&rsquo; worth of lace.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;What&rsquo;s that to us?&rdquo; interrupted Bibi-the-Smoker. &ldquo;We
+don&rsquo;t want to know the color of her mantle. The girl can have no end of
+lace; nevertheless she&rsquo;ll see the folly of loving.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+As Lantier seemed about to continue his reading, Salted-Mouth, otherwise
+Drink-without-Thirst, took the newspaper from him and sat upon it, saying:
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Ah! no, that&rsquo;s enough! This is all the paper is good for.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Meanwhile, My-Boots, who had been looking at his hand, triumphantly banged his
+fist down on the table. He scored ninety-three.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;I&rsquo;ve got the Revolution!&rdquo; he exulted.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;You&rsquo;re out of luck, comrade,&rdquo; the others told Coupeau.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+They ordered two fresh bottles. The glasses were filled up again as fast as
+they were emptied, the booze increased. Towards five o&rsquo;clock it began to
+get disgusting, so much so that Lantier kept very quiet, thinking of how to
+give the others the slip; brawling and throwing the wine about was no longer
+his style. Just then Coupeau stood up to make the drunkard&rsquo;s sign of the
+cross. Touching his head he pronounced Montpernasse, then Menilmonte as he
+brought his hand to his right shoulder, Bagnolet giving himself a blow in the
+chest, and wound up by saying stewed rabbit three times as he hit himself in
+the pit of the stomach. Then the hatter took advantage of the clamor which
+greeted the performance of this feat and quietly made for the door. His
+comrades did not even notice his departure. He had already had a pretty good
+dose. But once outside he shook himself and regained his self-possession; and
+he quietly made for the shop, where he told Gervaise that Coupeau was with some
+friends.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Two days passed by. The zinc-worker had not returned. He was reeling about the
+neighborhood, but no one knew exactly where. Several persons, however, stated
+that they had seen him at mother Baquet&rsquo;s, at the
+&ldquo;Butterfly,&rdquo; and at the &ldquo;Little Old Man with a Cough.&rdquo;
+Only some said that he was alone, whilst others affirmed that he was in the
+company of seven or eight drunkards like himself. Gervaise shrugged her
+shoulders in a resigned sort of way. <i>Mon Dieu!</i> She just had to get used
+to it. She never ran about after her old man; she even went out of her way if
+she caught sight of him inside a wineshop, so as to not anger him; and she
+waited at home till he returned, listening at night-time to hear if he was
+snoring outside the door. He would sleep on a rubbish heap, or on a seat, or in
+a piece of waste land, or across a gutter. On the morrow, after having only
+badly slept off his booze of the day before, he would start off again, knocking
+at the doors of all the consolation dealers, plunging afresh into a furious
+wandering, in the midst of nips of spirits, glasses of wine, losing his friends
+and then finding them again, going regular voyages from which he returned in a
+state of stupor, seeing the streets dance, the night fall and the day break,
+without any other thought than to drink and sleep off the effects wherever he
+happened to be. When in the latter state, the world was ended so far as he was
+concerned. On the second day, however, Gervaise went to Pere Colombe&rsquo;s
+l&rsquo;Assommoir to find out something about him; he had been there another
+five times, they were unable to tell her anything more. All she could do was to
+take away his tools which he had left under a seat.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+In the evening Lantier, seeing that the laundress seemed very worried, offered
+to take her to a music-hall, just by way of passing a pleasant hour or two. She
+refused at first, she was in no mood for laughing. Otherwise she would not have
+said, &ldquo;No,&rdquo; for the hatter made the proposal in too straightforward
+a manner for her to feel any mistrust. He seemed to feel for her in quite a
+paternal way. Never before had Coupeau slept out two nights running. So that in
+spite of herself, she would go every ten minutes to the door, with her iron in
+her hand, and look up and down the street to see if her old man was coming.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+It might be that Coupeau had broken a leg, or fallen under a wagon and been
+crushed and that might be good riddance to bad rubbish. She saw no reason for
+cherishing in her heart any affection for a filthy character like him, but it
+was irritating, all the same, to have to wonder every night whether he would
+come in or not. When it got dark, Lantier again suggested the music-hall, and
+this time she accepted. She decided it would be silly to deny herself a little
+pleasure when her husband had been out on the town for three days. If he
+wasn&rsquo;t coming in, then she might as well go out herself. Let the entire
+dump burn up if it felt like it. She might even put a torch to it herself. She
+was getting tired of the boring monotony of her present life.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+They ate their dinner quickly. Then, when she went off at eight o&rsquo;clock,
+arm-in-arm with the hatter, Gervaise told mother Coupeau and Nana to go to bed
+at once. The shop was shut and the shutters up. She left by the door opening
+into the courtyard and gave Madame Boche the key, asking her, if her pig of a
+husband came home, to have the kindness to put him to bed. The hatter was
+waiting for her under the big doorway, arrayed in his best and whistling a
+tune. She had on her silk dress. They walked slowly along the pavement, keeping
+close to each other, lighted up by the glare from the shop windows which showed
+them smiling and talking together in low voices.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The music-hall was in the Boulevard de Rochechouart. It had originally been a
+little cafe and had been enlarged by means of a kind of wooden shed erected in
+the courtyard. At the door a string of glass globes formed a luminous porch.
+Tall posters pasted on boards stood upon the ground, close to the gutter.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Here we are,&rdquo; said Lantier. &ldquo;To-night, first appearance of
+Mademoiselle Amanda, serio-comic.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Then he caught sight of Bibi-the-Smoker, who was also reading the poster. Bibi
+had a black eye; some punch he had run up against the day before.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Well! Where&rsquo;s Coupeau?&rdquo; inquired the hatter, looking about.
+&ldquo;Have you, then, lost Coupeau?&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Oh! long ago, since yesterday,&rdquo; replied the other. &ldquo;There
+was a bit of a free-for-all on leaving mother Baquet&rsquo;s. I don&rsquo;t
+care for fisticuffs. We had a row, you know, with mother Baquet&rsquo;s
+pot-boy, because he wanted to make us pay for a quart twice over. Then I left.
+I went and had a bit of a snooze.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+He was still yawning; he had slept eighteen hours at a stretch. He was,
+moreover, quite sobered, with a stupid look on his face, and his jacket
+smothered with fluff; for he had no doubt tumbled into bed with his clothes on.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;And you don&rsquo;t know where my husband is, sir?&rdquo; asked the
+laundress.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Well, no, not a bit. It was five o&rsquo;clock when we left mother
+Baquet&rsquo;s. That&rsquo;s all I know about it. Perhaps he went down the
+street. Yes, I fancy now that I saw him go to the &lsquo;Butterfly&rsquo; with
+a coachman. Oh! how stupid it is! Really, we deserve to be shot.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Lantier and Gervaise spent a very pleasant evening at the music-hall. At eleven
+o&rsquo;clock when the place closed, they strolled home without hurrying
+themselves. The cold was quite sharp. People seemed to be in groups. Some of
+the girls were giggling in the darkness as their men pressed close to them.
+Lantier was humming one of Mademoiselle Amanda&rsquo;s songs. Gervaise, with
+her head spinning from too much drink, hummed the refrain with him. It had been
+very warm at the music-hall and the two drinks she had had, along with all the
+smoke, had upset her stomach a bit. She had been quite impressed with
+Mademoiselle Amanda. She wouldn&rsquo;t dare to appear in public wearing so
+little, but she had to admit that the lady had lovely skin.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Everyone&rsquo;s asleep,&rdquo; said Gervaise, after ringing three times
+without the Boches opening the door.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+At length the door opened, but inside the porch it was very dark, and when she
+knocked at the window of the concierge&rsquo;s room to ask for her key, the
+concierge, who was half asleep, pulled out some rigmarole which she could make
+nothing of at first. She eventually understood that Poisson, the policeman, had
+brought Coupeau home in a frightful state, and that the key was no doubt in the
+lock.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;The deuce!&rdquo; murmured Lantier, when they had entered,
+&ldquo;whatever has he been up to here? The stench is abominable.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+There was indeed a most powerful stench. As Gervaise went to look for matches,
+she stepped into something messy. After she succeeded in lighting a candle, a
+pretty sight met their eyes. Coupeau appeared to have disgorged his very
+insides. The bed was splattered all over, so was the carpet, and even the
+bureau had splashes on its sides. Besides that, he had fallen from the bed
+where Poisson had probably thrown him, and was snoring on the floor in the
+midst of the filth like a pig wallowing in the mire, exhaling his foul breath
+through his open mouth. His grey hair was straggling into the puddle around his
+head.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Oh! the pig! the pig!&rdquo; repeated Gervaise, indignant and
+exasperated. &ldquo;He&rsquo;s dirtied everything. No, a dog wouldn&rsquo;t
+have done that, even a dead dog is cleaner.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+They both hesitated to move, not knowing where to place their feet. Coupeau had
+never before come home and put the bedroom into such a shocking state. This
+sight was a blow to whatever affection his wife still had for him. Previously
+she had been forgiving and not seriously offended, even when he had been blind
+drunk. But this made her sick; it was too much. She wouldn&rsquo;t have touched
+Coupeau for the world, and just the thought of this filthy bum touching her
+caused a repugnance such as she might have felt had she been required to sleep
+beside the corpse of someone who had died from a terrible disease.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Oh, I must get into that bed,&rdquo; murmured she. &ldquo;I can&rsquo;t
+go and sleep in the street. Oh! I&rsquo;ll crawl into it foot first.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+She tried to step over the drunkard, but had to catch hold of a corner of the
+chest of drawers to save herself from slipping in the mess. Coupeau completely
+blocked the way to the bed. Then, Lantier, who laughed to himself on seeing
+that she certainly could not sleep on her own pillow that night, took hold of
+her hand, saying, in a low and angry voice:
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Gervaise, he is a pig.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+She understood what he meant and pulled her hand free. She sighed to herself,
+and, in her bewilderment, addressed him familiarly, as in the old days.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;No, leave me alone, Auguste. Go to your own bed. I&rsquo;ll manage
+somehow to lie at the foot of the bed.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Come, Gervaise, don&rsquo;t be foolish,&rdquo; resumed he.
+&ldquo;It&rsquo;s too abominable; you can&rsquo;t remain here. Come with me. He
+won&rsquo;t hear us. What are you afraid of?&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;No,&rdquo; she replied firmly, shaking her head vigorously. Then, to
+show that she would remain where she was, she began to take off her clothes,
+throwing her silk dress over a chair. She was quickly in only her chemise and
+petticoat. Well, it was her own bed. She wanted to sleep in her own bed and
+made two more attempts to reach a clean corner of the bed.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Lantier, having no intention of giving up, whispered things to her.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+What a predicament she was in, with a louse of a husband that prevented her
+from crawling under her own blankets and a low skunk behind her just waiting to
+take advantage of the situation to possess her again. She begged Lantier to be
+quiet. Turning toward the small room where Nana and mother Coupeau slept, she
+listened anxiously. She could hear only steady breathing.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Leave me alone, Auguste,&rdquo; she repeated. &ldquo;You&rsquo;ll wake
+them. Be sensible.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Lantier didn&rsquo;t answer, but just smiled at her. Then he began to kiss her
+on the ear just as in the old days.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Gervaise felt like sobbing. Her strength deserted her; she felt a great buzzing
+in her ears, a violent tremor passed through her. She advanced another step
+forward. And she was again obliged to draw back. It was not possible, the
+disgust was too great. She felt on the verge of vomiting herself. Coupeau,
+overpowered by intoxication, lying as comfortably as though on a bed of down,
+was sleeping off his booze, without life in his limbs, and with his mouth all
+on one side. The whole street might have entered and laughed at him, without a
+hair of his body moving.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Well, I can&rsquo;t help it,&rdquo; she faltered. &ldquo;It&rsquo;s his
+own fault. <i>Mon Dieu!</i> He&rsquo;s forcing me out of my own bed. I&rsquo;ve
+no bed any longer. No, I can&rsquo;t help it. It&rsquo;s his own fault.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+She was trembling so she scarcely knew what she was doing. While Lantier was
+urging her into his room, Nana&rsquo;s face appeared at one of the glass panes
+in the door of the little room. The young girl, pale from sleep, had awakened
+and gotten out of bed quietly. She stared at her father lying in his vomit.
+Then, she stood watching until her mother disappeared into Lantier&rsquo;s
+room. She watched with the intensity and the wide-open eyes of a vicious child
+aflame with curiosity.
+</p>
+
+</div><!--end chapter-->
+
+<div class="chapter">
+
+<h2><a name="link2HCH0009" id="link2HCH0009"></a>
+CHAPTER IX</h2>
+
+<p>
+That winter mother Coupeau nearly went off in one of her coughing fits. Each
+December she could count on her asthma keeping her on her back for two and
+three weeks at a time. She was no longer fifteen, she would be seventy-three on
+Saint-Anthony&rsquo;s day. With that she was very rickety, getting a rattling
+in her throat for nothing at all, though she was plump and stout. The doctor
+said she would go off coughing, just time enough to say: &ldquo;Good-night, the
+candle&rsquo;s out!&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+When she was in her bed mother Coupeau became positively unbearable. It is true
+though that the little room in which she slept with Nana was not at all gay.
+There was barely room for two chairs between the beds. The wallpaper, a faded
+gray, hung loose in long strips. The small window near the ceiling let in only
+a dim light. It was like a cavern. At night, as she lay awake, she could listen
+to the breathing of the sleeping Nana as a sort of distraction; but in the
+day-time, as there was no one to keep her company from morning to night, she
+grumbled and cried and repeated to herself for hours together, as she rolled
+her head on the pillow:
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Good heavens! What a miserable creature I am! Good heavens! What a
+miserable creature I am! They&rsquo;ll leave me to die in prison, yes, in
+prison!&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+As soon as anyone called, Virginie or Madame Boche, to ask after her health,
+she would not reply directly, but immediately started on her list of
+complaints: &ldquo;Oh, I pay dearly for the food I eat here. I&rsquo;d be much
+better off with strangers. I asked for a cup of tisane and they brought me an
+entire pot of hot water. It was a way of saying that I drank too much. I
+brought Nana up myself and she scurries away in her bare feet every morning and
+I never see her again all day. Then at night she sleeps so soundly that she
+never wakes up to ask me if I&rsquo;m in pain. I&rsquo;m just a nuisance to
+them. They&rsquo;re waiting for me to die. That will happen soon enough. I
+don&rsquo;t even have a son any more; that laundress has taken him from me.
+She&rsquo;d beat me to death if she wasn&rsquo;t afraid of the law.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Gervaise was indeed rather hasty at times. The place was going to the dogs,
+everyone&rsquo;s temper was getting spoilt and they sent each other to the
+right about for the least word. Coupeau, one morning that he had a hangover,
+exclaimed: &ldquo;The old thing&rsquo;s always saying she&rsquo;s going to die,
+and yet she never does!&rdquo; The words struck mother Coupeau to the heart.
+They frequently complained of how much she cost them, observing that they would
+save a lot of money when she was gone.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+When at her worst that winter, one afternoon, when Madame Lorilleux and Madame
+Lerat had met at her bedside, mother Coupeau winked her eye as a signal to them
+to lean over her. She could scarcely speak. She rather hissed than said in a
+low voice:
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;It&rsquo;s becoming indecent. I heard them last night. Yes, Clump-clump
+and the hatter. And they were kicking up such a row together! Coupeau&rsquo;s
+too decent for her.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+And she related in short sentences, coughing and choking between each, that her
+son had come home dead drunk the night before. Then, as she was not asleep, she
+was easily able to account for all the noises, of Clump-clump&rsquo;s bare feet
+tripping over the tiled floor, the hissing voice of the hatter calling her, the
+door between the two rooms gently closed, and the rest. It must have lasted
+till daylight. She could not tell the exact time, because, in spite of her
+efforts, she had ended by falling into a dose.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;What&rsquo;s most disgusting is that Nana might have heard
+everything,&rdquo; continued she. &ldquo;She was indeed restless all the night,
+she who usually sleeps so sound. She tossed about and kept turning over as
+though there had been some lighted charcoal in her bed.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The other two women did not seem at all surprised.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Of course!&rdquo; murmured Madame Lorilleux, &ldquo;it probably began
+the very first night. But as it pleases Coupeau, we&rsquo;ve no business to
+interfere. All the same, it&rsquo;s not very respectable.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;As for me,&rdquo; declared Madame Lerat through clenched teeth,
+&ldquo;if I&rsquo;d been there, I&rsquo;d have thrown a fright into them.
+I&rsquo;d have shouted something, anything. A doctor&rsquo;s maid told me once
+that the doctor had told her that a surprise like that, at a certain moment,
+could strike a woman dead. If she had died right there, that would have been
+well, wouldn&rsquo;t it? She would have been punished right where she had
+sinned.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+It wasn&rsquo;t long until the entire neighborhood knew that Gervaise visited
+Lantier&rsquo;s room every night. Madame Lorilleux was loudly indignant,
+calling her brother a poor fool whose wife had shamed him. And her poor mother,
+forced to live in the midst of such horrors. As a result, the neighbors blamed
+Gervaise. Yes, she must have led Lantier astray; you could see it in her eyes.
+In spite of the nasty gossip, Lantier was still liked because he was always so
+polite. He always had candy or flowers to give the ladies. <i>Mon Dieu!</i> Men
+shouldn&rsquo;t be expected to push away women who threw themselves at them.
+There was no excuse for Gervaise. She was a disgrace. The Lorilleuxs used to
+bring Nana up to their apartment in order to find out more details from her,
+their godchild. But Nana would put on her expression of innocent stupidity and
+lower her long silky eyelashes to hide the fire in her eyes as she replied.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+In the midst of this general indignation, Gervaise lived quietly on, feeling
+tired out and half asleep. At first she considered herself very sinful and felt
+a disgust for herself. When she left Lantier&rsquo;s room she would wash her
+hands and scrub herself as if trying to get rid of an evil stain. If Coupeau
+then tried to joke with her, she would fly into a passion, and run and
+shiveringly dress herself in the farthest corner of the shop; neither would she
+allow Lantier near her soon after her husband had kissed her. She would have
+liked to have changed her skin as she changed men. But she gradually became
+accustomed to it. Soon it was too much trouble to scrub herself each time. Her
+thirst for happiness led her to enjoy as much as she could the difficult
+situation. She had always been disposed to make allowances for herself, so why
+not for others? She only wanted to avoid causing trouble. As long as the
+household went along as usual, there was nothing to complain about.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Then, after all, she could not be doing anything to make Coupeau stop drinking;
+matters were arranged so easily to the general satisfaction. One is generally
+punished if one does what is not right. His dissoluteness had gradually become
+a habit. Now it was as regular an affair as eating and drinking. Each time
+Coupeau came home drunk, she would go to Lantier&rsquo;s room. This was usually
+on Mondays, Tuesdays and Wednesdays. Sometimes on other nights, if Coupeau was
+snoring too loudly, she would leave in the middle of the night. It was not that
+she cared more for Lantier, but just that she slept better in his room.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Mother Coupeau never dared speak openly of it. But after a quarrel, when the
+laundress had bullied her, the old woman was not sparing in her allusions. She
+would say that she knew men who were precious fools and women who were precious
+hussies, and she would mutter words far more biting, with the sharpness of
+language pertaining to an old waistcoat-maker. The first time this had occurred
+Gervaise looked at her straight in the face without answering. Then, also
+avoiding going into details, she began to defend herself with reasons given in
+a general sort of way. When a woman had a drunkard for a husband, a pig who
+lived in filth, that woman was to be excused if she sought for cleanliness
+elsewhere. Once she pointed out that Lantier was just as much her husband as
+Coupeau was. Hadn&rsquo;t she known him since she was fourteen and didn&rsquo;t
+she have children by him?
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Anyway, she&rsquo;d like to see anyone make trouble for her. She wasn&rsquo;t
+the only one around the Rue de la Goutte-d&rsquo;Or. Madame Vigouroux, the
+coal-dealer had a merry dance from morning to night. Then there was the
+grocer&rsquo;s wife, Madame Lehongre with her brother-in-law. <i>Mon Dieu!</i>
+What a slob of a fellow. He wasn&rsquo;t worth touching with a shovel. Even the
+neat little clockmaker was said to have carried on with his own daughter, a
+streetwalker. Ah, the entire neighborhood. Oh, she knew plenty of dirt.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+One day when mother Coupeau was more pointed than usual in her observations,
+Gervaise had replied to her, clinching her teeth:
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;You&rsquo;re confined to your bed and you take advantage of it. Listen!
+You&rsquo;re wrong. You see that I behave nicely to you, for I&rsquo;ve never
+thrown your past life into your teeth. Oh! I know all about it. No, don&rsquo;t
+cough. I&rsquo;ve finished what I had to say. It&rsquo;s only to request you to
+mind your own business, that&rsquo;s all!&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The old woman almost choked. On the morrow, Goujet having called about his
+mother&rsquo;s washing when Gervaise happened to be out, mother Coupeau called
+him to her and kept him some time seated beside her bed. She knew all about the
+blacksmith&rsquo;s friendship, and had noticed that for some time past he had
+looked dismal and wretched, from a suspicion of the melancholy things that were
+taking place. So, for the sake of gossiping, and out of revenge for the quarrel
+of the day before, she bluntly told him the truth, weeping and complaining as
+though Gervaise&rsquo;s wicked behavior did her some special injury. When
+Goujet quitted the little room, he leant against the wall, almost stifling with
+grief. Then, when the laundress returned home, mother Coupeau called to her
+that Madame Goujet required her to go round with her clothes, ironed or not;
+and she was so animated that Gervaise, seeing something was wrong, guessed what
+had taken place and had a presentiment of the unpleasantness which awaited her.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Very pale, her limbs already trembling, she placed the things in a basket and
+started off. For years past she had not returned the Goujets a sou of their
+money. The debt still amounted to four hundred and twenty-five francs. She
+always spoke of her embarrassments and received the money for the washing. It
+filled her with shame, because she seemed to be taking advantage of the
+blacksmith&rsquo;s friendship to make a fool of him. Coupeau, who had now
+become less scrupulous, would chuckle and say that Goujet no doubt had fooled
+around with her a bit, and had so paid himself. But she, in spite of the
+relations she had fallen into with Coupeau, would indignantly ask her husband
+if he already wished to eat of that sort of bread. She would not allow anyone
+to say a word against Goujet in her presence; her affection for the blacksmith
+remained like a last shred of her honor. Thus, every time she took the washing
+home to those worthy people, she felt a spasm of her heart the moment she put a
+foot on their stairs.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Ah! it&rsquo;s you, at last!&rdquo; said Madame Goujet sharply, on
+opening the door to her. &ldquo;When I&rsquo;m in want of death, I&rsquo;ll
+send you to fetch him.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Gervaise entered, greatly embarrassed, not even daring to mutter an excuse. She
+was no longer punctual, never came at the time arranged, and would keep her
+customers waiting for days on end. Little by little she was giving way to a
+system of thorough disorder.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;For a week past I&rsquo;ve been expecting you,&rdquo; continued the
+lace-mender. &ldquo;And you tell falsehoods too; you send your apprentice to me
+with all sorts of stories; you are then busy with my things, you will deliver
+them the same evening, or else you&rsquo;ve had an accident, the bundle&rsquo;s
+fallen into a pail of water. Whilst all this is going on, I waste my time,
+nothing turns up, and it worries me exceedingly. No, you&rsquo;re most
+unreasonable. Come, what have you in your basket? Is everything there now? Have
+you brought me the pair of sheets you&rsquo;ve been keeping back for a month
+past, and the chemise which was missing the last time you brought home the
+washing?&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Yes, yes,&rdquo; murmured Gervaise, &ldquo;I have the chemise. Here it
+is.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+But Madame Goujet cried out. That chemise was not hers, she would have nothing
+to do with it. Her things were changed now; it was too bad! Only the week
+before, there were two handkerchiefs which hadn&rsquo;t her mark on them. It
+was not to her taste to have clothes coming from no one knew where. Besides
+that, she liked to have her own things.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;And the sheets?&rdquo; she resumed. &ldquo;They&rsquo;re lost,
+aren&rsquo;t they? Well! Woman, you must see about them, for I insist upon
+having them to-morrow morning, do you hear?&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+There was a silence which particularly bothered Gervaise when she noticed that
+the door to Goujet&rsquo;s room was open. If he was in there, it was most
+annoying that he should hear these just criticisms. She made no reply, meekly
+bowing her head, and placing the laundry on the bed as quickly as possible.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Matters became worse when Madame Goujet began to look over the things, one by
+one. She took hold of them and threw them down again saying:
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Ah! you don&rsquo;t get them up nearly so well as you used to do. One
+can&rsquo;t compliment you every day now. Yes, you&rsquo;ve taken to mucking
+your work&mdash;doing it in a most slovenly way. Just look at this shirt-front,
+it&rsquo;s scorched, there&rsquo;s the mark of the iron on the plaits; and the
+buttons have all been torn off. I don&rsquo;t know how you manage it, but
+there&rsquo;s never a button left on anything. Oh! now, here&rsquo;s a
+petticoat body which I shall certainly not pay you for. Look there! The
+dirt&rsquo;s still on it, you&rsquo;ve simply smoothed it over. So now the
+things are not even clean!&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+She stopped whilst she counted the different articles. Then she exclaimed:
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;What! This is all you&rsquo;ve brought? There are two pairs of
+stockings, six towels, a table-cloth, and several dish-cloths short.
+You&rsquo;re regularly trifling with me, it seems! I sent word that you were to
+bring me everything, ironed or not. If your apprentice isn&rsquo;t here on the
+hour with the rest of the things, we shall fall out, Madame Coupeau, I warn
+you.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+At this moment Goujet coughed in his room. Gervaise slightly started. <i>Mon
+Dieu!</i> How she was treated before him. And she remained standing in the
+middle of the rooms, embarrassed and confused and waiting for the dirty
+clothes; but after making up the account Madame Goujet had quietly returned to
+her seat near the window, and resumed the mending of a lace shawl.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;And the dirty things?&rdquo; timidly inquired the laundress.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;No, thank you,&rdquo; replied the old woman, &ldquo;there will be no
+laundry this week.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Gervaise turned pale. She was no longer to have the washing. Then she quite
+lost her head; she was obliged to sit down on a chair, for her legs were giving
+way under her. She did not attempt to vindicate herself. All that she would
+find to say was:
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Is Monsieur Goujet ill?&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Yes, he was not well. He had been obliged to come home instead of returning to
+the forge, and he had gone to lie down on his bed to get a rest. Madame Goujet
+talked gravely, wearing her black dress as usual and her white face framed in
+her nun-like coif. The pay at the forge had been cut again. It was now only
+seven francs a day because the machines did so much of the work. This forced
+her to save money every way she could. She would do her own washing from now
+on. It would naturally have been very helpful if the Coupeaus had been able to
+return her the money lent them by her son; but she was not going to set the
+lawyers on them, as they were unable to pay. As she was talking about the debt,
+Gervaise lowered her eyes in embarrassment.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;All the same,&rdquo; continued the lace-maker, &ldquo;by pinching
+yourselves a little you could manage to pay it off. For really now, you live
+very well; and spend a great deal, I&rsquo;m sure. If you were only to pay off
+ten francs a month&mdash;&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+She was interrupted by the sound of Goujet&rsquo;s voice as he called:
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Mamma! Mamma!&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+And when she returned to her seat, which was almost immediately, she changed
+the conversation. The blacksmith had doubtless begged her not to ask Gervaise
+for money; but in spite of herself she again spoke of the debt at the
+expiration of five minutes. Oh! She had foreseen long ago what was now
+happening. Coupeau was drinking all that the laundry business brought in and
+dragging his wife down with him. Her son would never have loaned the money if
+he had only listened to her. By now he would have been married, instead of
+miserably sad with only unhappiness to look forward to for the rest of his
+life. She grew quite stern and angry, even accusing Gervaise of having schemed
+with Coupeau to take advantage of her foolish son. Yes, some women were able to
+play the hypocrite for years, but eventually the truth came out.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Mamma! Mamma!&rdquo; again called Goujet, but louder this time.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+She rose from her seat and when she returned she said, as she resumed her lace
+mending:
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Go in, he wishes to see you.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Gervaise, all in a tremble left the door open. This scene filled her with
+emotion because it was like an avowal of their affection before Madame Goujet.
+She again beheld the quiet little chamber, with its narrow iron bedstead, and
+papered all over with pictures, the whole looking like the room of some girl of
+fifteen. Goujet&rsquo;s big body was stretched on the bed. Mother
+Coupeau&rsquo;s disclosures and the things his mother had been saying seemed to
+have knocked all the life out of his limbs. His eyes were red and swollen, his
+beautiful yellow beard was still wet. In the first moment of rage he must have
+punched away at his pillow with his terrible fists, for the ticking was split
+and the feathers were coming out.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Listen, mamma&rsquo;s wrong,&rdquo; said he to the laundress in a voice
+that was scarcely audible. &ldquo;You owe me nothing. I won&rsquo;t have it
+mentioned again.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+He had raised himself up and was looking at her. Big tears at once filled his
+eyes.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Do you suffer, Monsieur Goujet?&rdquo; murmured she. &ldquo;What is the
+matter with you? Tell me!&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Nothing, thanks. I tired myself with too much work yesterday. I will
+rest a bit.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Then, his heart breaking, he could not restrain himself and burst out:
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;<i>Mon Dieu!</i> Ah! <i>Mon Dieu!</i> It was never to be&mdash;never.
+You swore it. And now it is&mdash;it is! Ah, it pains me too much, leave
+me!&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+And with his hand he gently and imploringly motioned to her to go. She did not
+draw nearer to the bed. She went off as he requested her to, feeling stupid,
+unable to say anything to soothe him. When in the other room she took up her
+basket; but she did not go home. She stood there trying to find something to
+say. Madame Goujet continued her mending without raising her head. It was she
+who at length said:
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Well! Good-night; send me back my things and we will settle up
+afterwards.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Yes, it will be best so&mdash;good-night,&rdquo; stammered Gervaise.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+She took a last look around the neatly arranged room and thought as she shut
+the door that she seemed to be leaving some part of her better self behind. She
+plodded blindly back to the laundry, scarcely knowing where she was going.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+When Gervaise arrived, she found mother Coupeau out of her bed, sitting on a
+chair by the stove. Gervaise was too tired to scold her. Her bones ached as
+though she had been beaten and she was thinking that her life was becoming too
+hard to bear. Surely a quick death was the only escape from the pain in her
+heart.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+After this, Gervaise became indifferent to everything. With a vague gesture of
+her hand she would send everybody about their business. At each fresh worry she
+buried herself deeper in her only pleasure, which was to have her three meals a
+day. The shop might have collapsed. So long as she was not beneath it, she
+would have gone off willingly without a chemise to her back. And the little
+shop was collapsing, not suddenly, but little by little, morning and evening.
+One by one the customers got angry, and sent their washing elsewhere. Monsieur
+Madinier, Mademoiselle Remanjou, the Boches themselves had returned to Madame
+Fauconnier, where they could count on great punctuality. One ends by getting
+tired of asking for a pair of stockings for three weeks straight, and of
+putting on shirts with grease stains dating from the previous Sunday. Gervaise,
+without losing a bite, wished them a pleasant journey, and spoke her mind about
+them, saying that she was precious glad she would no longer have to poke her
+nose into their filth. The entire neighborhood could quit her; that would
+relieve her of the piles of stinking junk and give her less work to do.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Now her only customers were those who didn&rsquo;t pay regularly, the
+street-walkers, and women like Madame Gaudron, whose laundry smelled so bad
+that not one of the laundresses on the Rue Neuve would take it. She had to let
+Madame Putois go, leaving only her apprentice, squint-eyed Augustine, who
+seemed to grow more stupid as time passed. Frequently there was not even enough
+work for the two of them and they sat on stools all afternoon doing nothing.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Whilst idleness and poverty entered, dirtiness naturally entered also. One
+would never have recognised that beautiful blue shop, the color of heaven,
+which had once been Gervaise&rsquo;s pride. Its window-frames and panes, which
+were never washed, were covered from top to bottom with the splashes of the
+passing vehicles. On the brass rods in the windows were displayed three grey
+rags left by customers who had died in the hospital. And inside it was more
+pitiable still; the dampness of the clothes hung up at the ceiling to dry had
+loosed all the wallpaper; the Pompadour chintz hung in strips like cobwebs
+covered with dust; the big stove, broken and in holes from the rough use of the
+poker, looked in its corner like the stock in trade of a dealer in old iron;
+the work-table appeared as though it had been used by a regiment, covered as it
+was with wine and coffee stains, sticky with jam, greasy from spilled gravy.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Gervaise was so at ease among it all that she never even noticed the shop was
+getting filthy. She became used to it all, just as she got used to wearing torn
+skirts and no longer washing herself carefully. The disorder was like a warm
+nest.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Her own ease was her sole consideration; she did not care a pin for anything
+else. The debts, though still increasing, no longer troubled her. Her honesty
+gradually deserted her; whether she would be able to pay or not was altogether
+uncertain, and she preferred not to think about it. When her credit was stopped
+at one shop, she would open an account at some other shop close by. She was in
+debt all over the neighborhood, she owed money every few yards. To take merely
+the Rue de la Goutte-d&rsquo;Or, she no longer dared pass in front of the
+grocer&rsquo;s, nor the charcoal-dealer&rsquo;s, nor the greengrocer&rsquo;s;
+and this obliged her, whenever she required to be at the wash-house, to go
+round by the Rue des Poissonniers, which was quite ten minutes out of her way.
+The tradespeople came and treated her as a swindler. One evening the dealer
+from whom she had purchased Lantier&rsquo;s furniture made a scene in the
+street. Scenes like this upset her at the time, but were soon forgotten and
+never spoiled her appetite. What a nerve to bother her like that when she had
+no money to pay. They were all robbers anyway and it served them right to have
+to wait. Well, she&rsquo;d have to go bankrupt, but she didn&rsquo;t intend to
+fret about it now.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Meanwhile mother Coupeau had recovered. For another year the household jogged
+along. During the summer months there was naturally a little more
+work&mdash;the white petticoats and the cambric dresses of the street-walkers
+of the exterior Boulevard. The catastrophe was slowly approaching; the home
+sank deeper into the mire every week; there were ups and downs,
+however&mdash;days when one had to rub one&rsquo;s stomach before the empty
+cupboard, and others when one ate veal enough to make one burst. Mother Coupeau
+was for ever being seen in the street, hiding bundles under her apron, and
+strolling in the direction of the pawn-place in the Rue Polonceau. She strutted
+along with the air of a devotee going to mass; for she did not dislike these
+errands; haggling about money amused her; this crying up of her wares like a
+second-hand dealer tickled the old woman&rsquo;s fancy for driving hard
+bargains. The clerks knew her well and called her &ldquo;Mamma Four
+Francs,&rdquo; because she always demanded four francs when they offered three,
+on bundles no bigger than two sous&rsquo; worth of butter.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+At the start, Gervaise took advantage of good weeks to get things back from the
+pawn-shops, only to put them back again the next week. Later she let things go
+altogether, selling her pawn tickets for cash.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+One thing alone gave Gervaise a pang&mdash;it was having to pawn her clock to
+pay an acceptance for twenty francs to a bailiff who came to seize her goods.
+Until then, she had sworn rather to die of hunger than to part with her clock.
+When mother Coupeau carried it away in a little bonnet-box, she sunk on to a
+chair, without a particle of strength left in her arms, her eyes full of tears,
+as though a fortune was being torn from her. But when mother Coupeau reappeared
+with twenty-five francs, the unexpected loan, the five francs profit consoled
+her; she at once sent the old woman out again for four sous&rsquo; worth of
+brandy in a glass, just to toast the five-franc piece.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The two of them would often have a drop together, when they were on good terms
+with each other. Mother Coupeau was very successful at bringing back a full
+glass hidden in her apron pocket without spilling a drop. Well, the neighbors
+didn&rsquo;t need to know, did they. But the neighbors knew perfectly well.
+This turned the neighborhood even more against Gervaise. She was devouring
+everything; a few more mouthfuls and the place would be swept clean.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+In the midst of this general demolishment, Coupeau continued to prosper. The
+confounded tippler was as well as well could be. The sour wine and the
+&ldquo;vitriol&rdquo; positively fattened him. He ate a great deal, and laughed
+at that stick Lorilleux, who accused drink of killing people, and answered him
+by slapping himself on the stomach, the skin of which was so stretched by the
+fat that it resembled the skin of a drum. He would play him a tune on it, the
+glutton&rsquo;s vespers, with rolls and beats loud enough to have made a
+quack&rsquo;s fortune. Lorilleux, annoyed at not having any fat himself, said
+that it was soft and unhealthy. Coupeau ignored him and went on drinking more
+and more, saying it was for his health&rsquo;s sake.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+His hair was beginning to turn grey and his face to take on the
+drunkard&rsquo;s hue of purplish wine. He continued to act like a mischievous
+child. Well, it wasn&rsquo;t his concern if there was nothing about the place
+to eat. When he went for weeks without work he became even more difficult.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Still, he was always giving Lantier friendly slaps on the back. People swore he
+had no suspicion at all. Surely something terrible would happen if he ever
+found out. Madame Lerat shook her head at this. His sister said she had known
+of husbands who didn&rsquo;t mind at all.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Lantier wasn&rsquo;t wasting away either. He took great care of himself,
+measuring his stomach by the waist-band of his trousers, with the constant
+dread of having to loosen the buckle or draw it tighter; for he considered
+himself just right, and out of coquetry neither desired to grow fatter nor
+thinner. That made him hard to please in the matter of food, for he regarded
+every dish from the point of view of keeping his waist as it was. Even when
+there was not a sou in the house, he required eggs, cutlets, light and
+nourishing things. Since he was sharing the lady of the house, he considered
+himself to have a half interest in everything and would pocket any franc pieces
+he saw lying about. He kept Gervaise running here and there and seemed more at
+home than Coupeau. Nana was his favorite because he adored pretty little girls,
+but he paid less and less attention to Etienne, since boys, according to him,
+ought to know how to take care of themselves. If anyone came to see Coupeau
+while he was out, Lantier, in shirt sleeves and slippers, would come out of the
+back room with the bored expression of a husband who has been disturbed, saying
+he would answer for Coupeau as it was all the same.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Between these two gentlemen, Gervaise had nothing to laugh about. She had
+nothing to complain of as regards her health, thank goodness! She was growing
+too fat. But two men to coddle was often more than she could manage. Ah! <i>Mon
+Dieu!</i> one husband is already too much for a woman! The worst was that they
+got on very well together, the rogues. They never quarreled; they would chuckle
+in each other&rsquo;s faces, as they sat of an evening after dinner, their
+elbows on the table; they would rub up against one another all the live-long
+day, like cats which seek and cultivate their pleasure. The days when they came
+home in a rage, it was on her that they vented it. Go it! hammer away at the
+animal! She had a good back; it made them all the better friends when they
+yelled together. And it never did for her to give them tit-for-tat. In the
+beginning, whenever one of them yelled at her, she would appeal to the other,
+but this seldom worked. Coupeau had a foul mouth and called her horrible
+things. Lantier chose his insults carefully, but they often hurt her even more.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+But one can get used to anything. Soon their nasty remarks and all the wrongs
+done her by these two men slid off her smooth skin like water off a
+duck&rsquo;s back. It was even easier to have them angry, because when they
+were in good moods they bothered her too much, never giving her time to get a
+bonnet ironed.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Yes, Coupeau and Lantier were wearing her out. The zinc-worker, sure enough,
+lacked education; but the hatter had too much, or at least he had education in
+the same way that dirty people have a white shirt, with uncleanliness
+underneath it. One night, she dreamt that she was on the edge of a wall;
+Coupeau was knocking her into it with a blow of his fist, whilst Lantier was
+tickling her in the ribs to make her fall quicker. Well! That resembled her
+life. It was no surprise if she was becoming slipshod. The neighbors
+weren&rsquo;t fair in blaming her for the frightful habits she had fallen into.
+Sometimes a cold shiver ran through her, but things could have been worse, so
+she tried to make the best of it. Once she had seen a play in which the wife
+detested her husband and poisoned him for the sake of her lover. Wasn&rsquo;t
+it more sensible for the three of them to live together in peace? In spite of
+her debts and poverty she thought she was quite happy and could live in peace
+if only Coupeau and Lantier would stop yelling at her so much.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Towards the autumn, unfortunately, things became worse. Lantier pretended he
+was getting thinner, and pulled a longer face over the matter every day. He
+grumbled at everything, sniffed at the dishes of potatoes&mdash;a mess he could
+not eat, he would say, without having the colic. The least jangling now turned
+to quarrels, in which they accused one another of being the cause of all their
+troubles, and it was a devil of a job to restore harmony before they all
+retired for the night.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Lantier sensed a crisis coming and it exasperated him to realise that this
+place was already so thoroughly cleaned out that he could see the day coming
+when he&rsquo;d have to take his hat and seek elsewhere for his bed and board.
+He had become accustomed to this little paradise where he was nicely treated by
+everybody. He should have blamed himself for eating himself out of house and
+home, but instead he blamed the Coupeaus for letting themselves be ruined in
+less than two years. He thought Gervaise was too extravagant. What was going to
+happen to them now?
+</p>
+
+<p>
+One evening in December they had no dinner at all. There was not a radish left.
+Lantier, who was very glum, went out early, wandering about in search of some
+other den where the smell of the kitchen would bring a smile to one&rsquo;s
+face. He would now remain for hours beside the stove wrapt in thought. Then,
+suddenly, he began to evince a great friendship for the Poissons. He no longer
+teased the policeman and even went so far as to concede that the Emperor might
+not be such a bad fellow after all. He seemed to especially admire Virginie. No
+doubt he was hoping to board with them. Virginie having acquainted him with her
+desire to set up in some sort of business, he agreed with everything she said,
+and declared that her idea was a most brilliant one. She was just the person
+for trade&mdash;tall, engaging and active. Oh! she would make as much as she
+liked. The capital had been available for some time, thanks to an inheritance
+from an aunt. Lantier told her of all the shopkeepers who were making fortunes.
+The time was right for it; you could sell anything these days. Virginie,
+however, hesitated; she was looking for a shop that was to be let, she did not
+wish to leave the neighborhood. Then Lantier would take her into corners and
+converse with her in an undertone for ten minutes at a time. He seemed to be
+urging her to do something in spite of herself; and she no longer said
+&ldquo;no,&rdquo; but appeared to authorize him to act. It was as a secret
+between them, with winks and words rapidly exchanged, some mysterious
+understanding which betrayed itself even in their handshakings.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+From this moment the hatter would covertly watch the Coupeaus whilst eating
+their dry bread, and becoming very talkative again, would deafen them with his
+continual jeremiads. All day long Gervaise moved in the midst of that poverty
+which he so obligingly spread out. <i>Mon Dieu!</i> he wasn&rsquo;t thinking of
+himself; he would go on starving with his friends as long as they liked. But
+look at it with common sense. They owed at least five hundred francs in the
+neighborhood. Besides which, they were two quarters&rsquo; rent behind with the
+rent, which meant another two hundred and fifty francs; the landlord, Monsieur
+Marescot, even spoke of having them evicted if they did not pay him by the
+first of January. Finally the pawn-place had absorbed everything, one could not
+have got together three francs&rsquo; worth of odds and ends, the clearance had
+been so complete; the nails remained in the walls and that was all and perhaps
+there were two pounds of them at three sous the pound. Gervaise, thoroughly
+entangled in it all, her nerves quite upset by this calculation, would fly into
+a passion and bang her fists down upon the table or else she would end by
+bursting into tears like a fool. One night she exclaimed:
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;I&rsquo;ll be off to-morrow! I prefer to put the key under the door and
+to sleep on the pavement rather than continue to live in such frights.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;It would be wiser,&rdquo; said Lantier slyly, &ldquo;to get rid of the
+lease if you could find someone to take it. When you are both decided to give
+up the shop&mdash;&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+She interrupted him more violently:
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;At once, at once! Ah! it&rsquo;ll be a good riddance!&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Then the hatter became very practical. On giving up the lease one would no
+doubt get the new tenant to be responsible for the two overdue quarters. And he
+ventured to mention the Poissons, he reminded them that Virginie was looking
+for a shop; theirs would perhaps suit her. He remembered that he had heard her
+say she longed for one just like it. But when Virginie&rsquo;s name was
+mentioned the laundress suddenly regained her composure. We&rsquo;ll see how
+things go along. When you&rsquo;re angry you always talk of quitting, but it
+isn&rsquo;t so easy when you just stop to think about it.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+During the following days it was in vain that Lantier harped upon the subject.
+Gervaise replied that she had seen herself worse off and had pulled through.
+How would she be better off when she no longer had her shop? That would not put
+bread into their mouths. She would, on the contrary, engage some fresh
+workwomen and work up a fresh connection.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Lantier made the mistake of mentioning Virginie again. This stirred Gervaise
+into furious obstinacy. No! Never! She had always had her suspicions of what
+was in Virginie&rsquo;s heart. Virginie only wanted to humiliate her. She would
+rather turn it over to the first woman to come in from the street than to that
+hypocrite who had been waiting for years to see her fail. Yes, Virginie still
+had in mind that fight in the wash-house. Well, she&rsquo;d be wiser to forget
+about it, unless she wanted another one now.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+In the face of this flow of angry retorts, Lantier began by attacking Gervaise.
+He called her stupid and stuck-up. He even went so far as to abuse Coupeau,
+accusing him of not knowing how to make his wife respect his friend. Then,
+realising that passion would compromise everything, he swore that he would
+never again interest himself in the affairs of other people, for one always got
+more kicks than thanks; and indeed he appeared to have given up all idea of
+talking them into parting with the lease, but he was really watching for a
+favorable opportunity of broaching the subject again and of bringing the
+laundress round to his views.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+January had now arrived; the weather was wretched, both damp and cold. Mother
+Coupeau, who had coughed and choked all through December, was obliged to take
+to her bed after Twelfth-night. It was her annuity, which she expected every
+winter. This winter though, those around her said she&rsquo;d never come out of
+her bedroom except feet first. Indeed, her gaspings sounded like a death
+rattle. She was still fat, but one eye was blind and one side of her face was
+twisted. The doctor made one call and didn&rsquo;t return again. They kept
+giving her tisanes and going to check on her every hour. She could no longer
+speak because her breathing was so difficult.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+One Monday evening, Coupeau came home totally drunk. Ever since his mother was
+in danger, he had lived in a continual state of deep emotion. When he was in
+bed, snoring soundly, Gervaise walked about the place for a while. She was in
+the habit of watching over mother Coupeau during a part of the night. Nana had
+showed herself very brave, always sleeping beside the old woman, and saying
+that if she heard her dying, she would wake everyone. Since the invalid seemed
+to be sleeping peacefully this night, Gervaise finally yielded to the appeals
+of Lantier to come into his room for a little rest. They only kept a candle
+alight, standing on the ground behind the wardrobe. But towards three
+o&rsquo;clock Gervaise abruptly jumped out of bed, shivering and oppressed with
+anguish. She thought she had felt a cold breath pass over her body. The morsel
+of candle had burnt out; she tied on her petticoats in the dark, all
+bewildered, and with feverish hands. It was not till she got into the little
+room, after knocking up against the furniture, that she was able to light a
+small lamp. In the midst of the oppressive silence of night, the
+zinc-worker&rsquo;s snores alone sounded as two grave notes. Nana, stretched on
+her back, was breathing gently between her pouting lips. And Gervaise, holding
+down the lamp which caused big shadows to dance about the room, cast the light
+on mother Coupeau&rsquo;s face, and beheld it all white, the head lying on the
+shoulder, the eyes wide open. Mother Coupeau was dead.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Gently, without uttering a cry, icy cold yet prudent, the laundress returned to
+Lantier&rsquo;s room. He had gone to sleep again. She bent over him and
+murmured:
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Listen, it&rsquo;s all over, she&rsquo;s dead.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Heavy with sleep, only half awake, he grunted at first:
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Leave me alone, get into bed. We can&rsquo;t do her any good if
+she&rsquo;s dead.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Then he raised himself on his elbow and asked:
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;What&rsquo;s the time?&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Three o&rsquo;clock.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Only three o&rsquo;clock! Get into bed quick. You&rsquo;ll catch cold.
+When it&rsquo;s daylight, we&rsquo;ll see what&rsquo;s to be done.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+But she did not listen to him, she dressed herself completely. Bundling himself
+in the blankets, Lantier muttered about how stubborn women were. What was the
+hurry to announce a death in the house? He was irritated at having his sleep
+spoiled by such gloomy matters.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Meanwhile, Gervaise had moved her things back into her own room. Then she felt
+free to sit down and cry, no longer fearful of being caught in Lantier&rsquo;s
+room. She had been fond of mother Coupeau and felt a deep sorrow at her loss.
+She sat, crying by herself, her sobs loud in the silence, but Coupeau never
+stirred. She had spoken to him and even shaken him and finally decided to let
+him sleep. He would be more of a nuisance if he woke up.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+On returning to the body, she found Nana sitting up in bed rubbing her eyes.
+The child understood, and with her vicious urchin&rsquo;s curiosity, stretched
+out her neck to get a better view of her grandmother; she said nothing but she
+trembled slightly, surprised and satisfied in the presence of this death which
+she had been promising herself for two days past, like some nasty thing hidden
+away and forbidden to children; and her young cat-like eyes dilated before that
+white face all emaciated at the last gasp by the passion of life, she felt that
+tingling in her back which she felt behind the glass door when she crept there
+to spy on what was no concern of chits like her.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Come, get up,&rdquo; said her mother in a low voice. &ldquo;You
+can&rsquo;t remain here.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+She regretfully slid out of bed, turning her head round and not taking her eyes
+off the corpse. Gervaise was much worried about her, not knowing where to put
+her till day-time. She was about to tell her to dress herself, when Lantier, in
+his trousers and slippers, rejoined her. He could not get to sleep again, and
+was rather ashamed of his behavior. Then everything was arranged.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;She can sleep in my bed,&rdquo; murmured he. &ldquo;She&rsquo;ll have
+plenty of room.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Nana looked at her mother and Lantier with her big, clear eyes and put on her
+stupid air, the same as on New Year&rsquo;s day when anyone made her a present
+of a box of chocolate candy. And there was certainly no need for them to hurry
+her. She trotted off in her night-gown, her bare feet scarcely touching the
+tiled floor; she glided like a snake into the bed, which was still quite warm,
+and she lay stretched out and buried in it, her slim body scarcely raising the
+counterpane. Each time her mother entered the room she beheld her with her eyes
+sparkling in her motionless face&mdash;not sleeping, not moving, very red with
+excitement, and appearing to reflect on her own affairs.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Lantier assisted Gervaise in dressing mother Coupeau&mdash;and it was not an
+easy matter, for the body was heavy. One would never have thought that that old
+woman was so fat and so white. They put on her stockings, a white petticoat, a
+short linen jacket and a white cap&mdash;in short, the best of her linen.
+Coupeau continued snoring, a high note and a low one, the one sharp, the other
+flat. One could almost have imagined it to be church music accompanying the
+Good Friday ceremonies. When the corpse was dressed and properly laid out on
+the bed, Lantier poured himself out a glass of wine, for he felt quite upset.
+Gervaise searched the chest of drawers to find a little brass crucifix which
+she had brought from Plassans, but she recollected that mother Coupeau had, in
+all probability, sold it herself. They had lighted the stove, and they passed
+the rest of the night half asleep on chairs, finishing the bottle of wine that
+had been opened, worried and sulking, as though it was their own fault.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Towards seven o&rsquo;clock, before daylight, Coupeau at length awoke. When he
+learnt his loss he at first stood still with dry eyes, stuttering and vaguely
+thinking that they were playing him some joke. Then he threw himself on the
+ground and went and knelt beside the corpse. His kissed it and wept like a
+child, with such a copious flow of tears that he quite wetted the sheet with
+wiping his cheeks. Gervaise had recommenced sobbing, deeply affected by her
+husband&rsquo;s grief, and the best of friends with him again. Yes, he was
+better at heart than she thought he was. Coupeau&rsquo;s despair mingled with a
+violent pain in his head. He passed his fingers through his hair. His mouth was
+dry, like on the morrow of a booze, and he was still a little drunk in spite of
+his ten hours of sleep. And, clenching his fist, he complained aloud. <i>Mon
+Dieu!</i> she was gone now, his poor mother, whom he loved so much! Ah! what a
+headache he had; it would settle him! It was like a wig of fire! And now they
+were tearing out his heart! No, it was not just of fate thus to set itself
+against one man!
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Come, cheer up, old fellow,&rdquo; said Lantier, raising him from the
+ground; &ldquo;you must pull yourself together.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+He poured him out a glass of wine, but Coupeau refused to drink.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;What&rsquo;s the matter with me? I&rsquo;ve got copper in my throat.
+It&rsquo;s mamma. When I saw her I got a taste of copper in my mouth. Mamma!
+<i>Mon Dieu!</i> mamma, mamma!&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+And he recommenced crying like a child. Then he drank the glass of wine, hoping
+to put out the flame searing his breast. Lantier soon left, using the excuse of
+informing the family and filing the necessary declaration at the town hall.
+Really though, he felt the need of fresh air, and so he took his time, smoking
+cigarettes and enjoying the morning air. When he left Madame Lerat&rsquo;s
+house, he went into a dairy place on Les Batignolles for a cup of hot coffee
+and remained there an hour, thinking things over.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Towards nine o&rsquo;clock the family were all united in the shop, the shutters
+of which were kept up. Lorilleux did not cry. Moreover he had some pressing
+work to attend to, and he returned almost directly to his room, after having
+stalked about with a face put on for the occasion. Madame Lorilleux and Madame
+Lerat embraced the Coupeaus and wiped their eyes, from which a few tears were
+falling. But Madame Lorilleux, after giving a hasty glance round the death
+chamber, suddenly raised her voice to say that it was unheard of, that one
+never left a lighted lamp beside a corpse; there should be a candle, and Nana
+was sent to purchase a packet of tall ones. Ah, well! It made one long to die
+at Clump-clump&rsquo;s, she laid one out in such a fine fashion! What a fool,
+not even to know what to do with a corpse! Had she then never buried anyone in
+her life? Madame Lerat had to go to the neighbors and borrow a crucifix; she
+brought one back which was too big, a cross of black wood with a Christ in
+painted cardboard fastened to it, which covered the whole of mother
+Coupeau&rsquo;s chest, and seemed to crush her under its weight. Then they
+tried to obtain some holy water, but no one had any, and it was again Nana who
+was sent to the church to bring some back in a bottle. In practically no time
+the tiny room presented quite another appearance; on a little table a candle
+was burning beside a glass full of holy water into which a sprig of boxwood was
+dipped. Now, if anyone came, it would at least look decent. And they arranged
+the chairs in a circle in the shop for receiving people.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Lantier only returned at eleven o&rsquo;clock. He had been to the
+undertaker&rsquo;s for information.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;The coffin is twelve francs,&rdquo; said he. &ldquo;If you desire a
+mass, it will be ten francs more. Then there&rsquo;s the hearse, which is
+charged for according to the ornaments.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Oh! it&rsquo;s quite unnecessary to be fancy,&rdquo; murmured Madame
+Lorilleux, raising her head in a surprised and anxious manner. &ldquo;We
+can&rsquo;t bring mamma to life again, can we? One must do according to
+one&rsquo;s means.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Of course, that&rsquo;s just what I think,&rdquo; resumed the hatter.
+&ldquo;I merely asked the prices to guide you. Tell me what you desire; and
+after lunch I will give the orders.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+They were talking in lowered voices. Only a dim light came into the room
+through the cracks in the shutters. The door to the little room stood half
+open, and from it came the deep silence of death. Children&rsquo;s laughter
+echoed in the courtyard. Suddenly they heard the voice of Nana, who had escaped
+from the Boches to whom she had been sent. She was giving commands in her
+shrill voice and the children were singing a song about a donkey.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Gervaise waited until it was quiet to say:
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;We&rsquo;re not rich certainly; but all the same we wish to act
+decently. If mother Coupeau has left us nothing, it&rsquo;s no reason for
+pitching her into the ground like a dog. No; we must have a mass, and a hearse
+with a few ornaments.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;And who will pay for them?&rdquo; violently inquired Madame Lorilleux.
+&ldquo;Not we, who lost some money last week; and you either, as you&rsquo;re
+stumped. Ah! you ought, however, to see where it has led you, this trying to
+impress people!&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Coupeau, when consulted, mumbled something with a gesture of profound
+indifference, and then fell asleep again on his chair. Madame Lerat said that
+she would pay her share. She was of Gervaise&rsquo;s opinion, they should do
+things decently. Then the two of them fell to making calculations on a piece of
+paper: in all, it would amount to about ninety francs, because they decided,
+after a long discussion, to have a hearse ornamented with a narrow scallop.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;We&rsquo;re three,&rdquo; concluded the laundress. &ldquo;We&rsquo;ll
+give thirty francs each. It won&rsquo;t ruin us.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+But Madame Lorilleux broke out in a fury.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Well! I refuse, yes, I refuse! It&rsquo;s not for the thirty francs.
+I&rsquo;d give a hundred thousand, if I had them, and if it would bring mamma
+to life again. Only, I don&rsquo;t like vain people. You&rsquo;ve got a shop,
+you only dream of showing off before the neighborhood. We don&rsquo;t fall in
+with it, we don&rsquo;t. We don&rsquo;t try to make ourselves out what we are
+not. Oh! you can manage it to please yourself. Put plumes on the hearse if it
+amuses you.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;No one asks you for anything,&rdquo; Gervaise ended by answering.
+&ldquo;Even though I should have to sell myself, I&rsquo;ll not have anything
+to reproach myself with. I&rsquo;ve fed mother Coupeau without your help, and I
+can certainly bury her without your help also. I already once before gave you a
+bit of my mind; I pick up stray cats, I&rsquo;m not likely to leave your mother
+in the mire.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Then Madame Lorilleux burst into tears and Lantier had to prevent her from
+leaving. The argument became so noisy that Madame Lerat felt she had to go
+quietly into the little room and glance tearfully at her dead mother, as though
+fearing to find her awake and listening. Just at this moment the girls playing
+in the courtyard, led by Nana, began singing again.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;<i>Mon Dieu!</i> how those children grate on one&rsquo;s nerves with
+their singing!&rdquo; said Gervaise, all upset and on the point of sobbing with
+impatience and sadness. Turning to the hatter, she said:
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Do please make them leave off, and send Nana back to the
+concierge&rsquo;s with a kick.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Madame Lerat and Madame Lorilleux went away to eat lunch, promising to return.
+The Coupeaus sat down to eat a bite without much appetite, feeling hesitant
+about even raising a fork. After lunch Lantier went to the undertaker&rsquo;s
+again with the ninety francs. Thirty had come from Madame Lerat and Gervaise
+had run, with her hair all loose, to borrow sixty francs from Goujet.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Several of the neighbors called in the afternoon, mainly out of curiosity. They
+went into the little room to make the sign of the cross and sprinkle some holy
+water with the boxwood sprig. Then they sat in the shop and talked endlessly
+about the departed. Mademoiselle Remanjou had noticed that her right eye was
+still open. Madame Gaudron maintained that she had a fine complexion for her
+age. Madame Fauconnier kept repeating that she had seen her having coffee only
+three days earlier.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Towards evening the Coupeaus were beginning to have had enough of it. It was
+too great an affliction for a family to have to keep a corpse so long a time.
+The government ought to have made a new law on the subject. All through another
+evening, another night, and another morning&mdash;no! it would never come to an
+end. When one no longer weeps, grief turns to irritation; is it not so? One
+would end by misbehaving oneself. Mother Coupeau, dumb and stiff in the depths
+of the narrow chamber, was spreading more and more over the lodging and
+becoming heavy enough to crush the people in it. And the family, in spite of
+itself, gradually fell into the ordinary mode of life, and lost some portion of
+its respect.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;You must have a mouthful with us,&rdquo; said Gervaise to Madame Lerat
+and Madame Lorilleux, when they returned. &ldquo;We&rsquo;re too sad; we must
+keep together.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+They laid the cloth on the work-table. Each one, on seeing the plates, thought
+of the feastings they had had on it. Lantier had returned. Lorilleux came down.
+A pastry-cook had just brought a meat pie, for the laundress was too upset to
+attend to any cooking. As they were taking their seats, Boche came to say that
+Monsieur Marescot asked to be admitted, and the landlord appeared, looking very
+grave, and wearing a broad decoration on his frock-coat. He bowed in silence
+and went straight to the little room, where he knelt down. All the family,
+leaving the table, stood up, greatly impressed. Monsieur Marescot, having
+finished his devotions, passed into the shop and said to the Coupeaus:
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;I have come for the two quarters&rsquo; rent that&rsquo;s overdue. Are
+you prepared to pay?&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;No, sir, not quite,&rdquo; stammered Gervaise, greatly put out at
+hearing this mentioned before the Lorilleuxs. &ldquo;You see, with the
+misfortune which has fallen upon us&mdash;&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;No doubt, but everyone has their troubles,&rdquo; resumed the landlord,
+spreading out his immense fingers, which indicated the former workman. &ldquo;I
+am very sorry, but I cannot wait any longer. If I am not paid by the morning
+after to-morrow, I shall be obliged to have you put out.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Gervaise, struck dumb, imploringly clasped her hands, her eyes full of tears.
+With an energetic shake of his big bony head, he gave her to understand that
+supplications were useless. Besides, the respect due to the dead forbade all
+discussion. He discreetly retired, walking backwards.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;A thousand pardons for having disturbed you,&rdquo; murmured he.
+&ldquo;The morning after to-morrow; do not forget.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+And as on withdrawing he again passed before the little room, he saluted the
+corpse a last time through the wide open door by devoutly bending his knee.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+They began eating and gobbled the food down very quickly, so as not to seem to
+be enjoying it, only slowing down when they reached the dessert. Occasionally
+Gervaise or one of the sisters would get up, still holding her napkin, to look
+into the small room. They made plenty of strong coffee to keep them awake
+through the night. The Poissons arrived about eight and were invited for
+coffee.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Then Lantier, who had been watching Gervaise&rsquo;s face, seemed to seize an
+opportunity that he had been waiting for ever since the morning. In speaking of
+the indecency of landlords who entered houses of mourning to demand their
+money, he said:
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;He&rsquo;s a Jesuit, the beast, with his air of officiating at a mass!
+But in your place, I&rsquo;d just chuck up the shop altogether.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Gervaise, quite worn out and feeling weak and nervous, gave way and replied:
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Yes, I shall certainly not wait for the bailiffs. Ah! it&rsquo;s more
+than I can bear&mdash;more than I can bear.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The Lorilleuxs, delighted at the idea that Clump-clump would no longer have a
+shop, approved the plan immensely. One could hardly conceive the great cost a
+shop was. If she only earned three francs working for others she at least had
+no expenses; she did not risk losing large sums of money. They repeated this
+argument to Coupeau, urging him on; he drank a great deal and remained in a
+continuous fit of sensibility, weeping all day by himself in his plate. As the
+laundress seemed to be allowing herself to be convinced, Lantier looked at the
+Poissons and winked. And tall Virginie intervened, making herself most amiable.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;You know, we might arrange the matter between us. I would relieve you of
+the rest of the lease and settle your matter with the landlord. In short, you
+would not be worried nearly so much.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;No thanks,&rdquo; declared Gervaise, shaking herself as though she felt
+a shudder pass over her. &ldquo;I&rsquo;ll work; I&rsquo;ve got my two arms,
+thank heaven! to help me out of my difficulties.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;We can talk about it some other time,&rdquo; the hatter hastened to put
+in. &ldquo;It&rsquo;s scarcely the thing to do so this evening. Some other
+time&mdash;in the morning for instance.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+At this moment, Madame Lerat, who had gone into the little room, uttered a
+faint cry. She had had a fright because she had found the candle burnt out.
+They all busied themselves in lighting another; they shook their heads, saying
+that it was not a good sign when the light went out beside a corpse.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The wake commenced. Coupeau had gone to lie down, not to sleep, said he, but to
+think; and five minutes afterwards he was snoring. When they sent Nana off to
+sleep at the Boches&rsquo; she cried; she had been looking forward ever since
+the morning to being nice and warm in her good friend Lantier&rsquo;s big bed.
+The Poissons stayed till midnight. Some hot wine had been made in a salad-bowl
+because the coffee affected the ladies&rsquo; nerves too much. The conversation
+became tenderly effusive. Virginie talked of the country: she would like to be
+buried at the corner of a wood with wild flowers on her grave. Madame Lerat had
+already put by in her wardrobe the sheet for her shroud, and she kept it
+perfumed with a bunch of lavender; she wished always to have a nice smell under
+her nose when she would be eating the dandelions by the roots. Then, with no
+sort of transition, the policeman related that he had arrested a fine girl that
+morning who had been stealing from a pork-butcher&rsquo;s shop; on undressing
+her at the commissary of police&rsquo;s they had found ten sausages hanging
+round her body. And Madame Lorilleux having remarked, with a look of disgust,
+that she would not eat any of those sausages, the party burst into a gentle
+laugh. The wake became livelier, though not ceasing to preserve appearances.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+But just as they were finishing the hot wine a peculiar noise, a dull trickling
+sound, issued from the little room. All raised their heads and looked at each
+other.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;It&rsquo;s nothing,&rdquo; said Lantier quietly, lowering his voice.
+&ldquo;She&rsquo;s emptying.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The explanation caused the others to nod their heads in a reassured way, and
+they replaced their glasses on the table.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+When the Poissons left for home, Lantier left also, saying he would sleep with
+a friend and leave his bed for the ladies in case they wanted to take turns
+napping. Lorilleux went upstairs to bed. Gervaise and the two sisters arranged
+themselves by the stove where they huddled together close to the warmth,
+talking quietly. Coupeau was still snoring.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Madame Lorilleux was complaining that she didn&rsquo;t have a black dress and
+asked Gervaise about the black skirt they had given mother Coupeau on her
+saint&rsquo;s day. Gervaise went to look for it. Madame Lorilleux then wanted
+some of the old linen and mentioned the bed, the wardrobe, and the two chairs
+as she looked around for other odds and ends. Madame Lerat had to serve as
+peace maker when a quarrel nearly broke out. She pointed out that as the
+Coupeaus had cared for their mother, they deserved to keep the few things she
+had left. Soon they were all dozing around the stove.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The night seemed terribly long to them. Now and again they shook themselves,
+drank some coffee and stretched their necks in the direction of the little
+room, where the candle, which was not to be snuffed, was burning with a dull
+red flame, flickering the more because of the black soot on the wick. Towards
+morning, they shivered, in spite of the great heat of the stove. Anguish, and
+the fatigue of having talked too much was stifling them, whilst their mouths
+were parched, and their eyes ached. Madame Lerat threw herself on
+Lantier&rsquo;s bed, and snored as loud as a man; whilst the other two, their
+heads falling forward, and almost touching their knees, slept before the fire.
+At daybreak, a shudder awoke them. Mother Coupeau&rsquo;s candle had again gone
+out; and as, in the obscurity, the dull trickling sound recommenced, Madame
+Lorilleux gave the explanation of it anew in a loud voice, so as to reassure
+herself:
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;She&rsquo;s emptying,&rdquo; repeated she, lighting another candle.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The funeral was to take place at half-past ten. A nice morning to add to the
+night and the day before! Gervaise, though without a sou, said she would have
+given a hundred francs to anybody who would have come and taken mother Coupeau
+away three hours sooner. No, one may love people, but they are too great a
+weight when they are dead; and the more one has loved them, the sooner one
+would like to be rid of their bodies.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The morning of a funeral is, fortunately, full of diversions. One has all sorts
+of preparations to make. To begin with, they lunched. Then it happened to be
+old Bazouge, the undertaker&rsquo;s helper, who lived on the sixth floor, who
+brought the coffin and the sack of bran. He was never sober, the worthy fellow.
+At eight o&rsquo;clock that day, he was still lively from the booze of the day
+before.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;This is for here, isn&rsquo;t it?&rdquo; asked he.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+And he laid down the coffin, which creaked like a new box. But as he was
+throwing the sack of bran on one side, he stood with a look of amazement in his
+eyes, his mouth opened wide, on beholding Gervaise before him.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Beg pardon, excuse me. I&rsquo;ve made a mistake,&rdquo; stammered he.
+&ldquo;I was told it was for you.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+He had already taken up the sack again, and the laundress was obliged to call
+to him:
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Leave it alone, it&rsquo;s for here.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Ah! <i>Mon Dieu!</i> Now I understand!&rdquo; resumed he, slapping his
+thigh. &ldquo;It&rsquo;s for the old lady.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Gervaise had turned quite pale. Old Bazouge had brought the coffin for her. By
+way of apology, he tried to be gallant, and continued:
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;I&rsquo;m not to blame, am I? It was said yesterday that someone on the
+ground floor had passed away. Then I thought&mdash;you know, in our business,
+these things enter by one ear and go out by the other. All the same, my
+compliments to you. As late as possible, eh? That&rsquo;s best, though life
+isn&rsquo;t always amusing; ah! no, by no means.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+As Gervaise listened to him, she draw back, afraid he would grab her and take
+her away in the box. She remembered the time before, when he had told her he
+knew of women who would thank him to come and get them. Well, she wasn&rsquo;t
+ready yet. <i>Mon Dieu!</i> The thought sent chills down her spine. Her life
+may have been bitter, but she wasn&rsquo;t ready to give it up yet. No, she
+would starve for years first.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;He&rsquo;s abominably drunk,&rdquo; murmured she, with an air of disgust
+mingled with dread. &ldquo;They at least oughtn&rsquo;t to send us tipplers. We
+pay dear enough.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Then he became insolent, and jeered:
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;See here, little woman, it&rsquo;s only put off until another time.
+I&rsquo;m entirely at your service, remember! You&rsquo;ve only to make me a
+sign. I&rsquo;m the ladies&rsquo; consoler. And don&rsquo;t spit on old
+Bazouge, because he&rsquo;s held in his arms finer ones than you, who let
+themselves be tucked in without a murmur, very pleased to continue their by-by
+in the dark.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Hold your tongue, old Bazouge!&rdquo; said Lorilleux severely, having
+hastened to the spot on hearing the noise, &ldquo;such jokes are highly
+improper. If we complained about you, you would get the sack. Come, be off, as
+you&rsquo;ve no respect for principles.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Bazouge moved away, but one could hear him stuttering as he dragged along the
+pavement:
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Well! What? Principles! There&rsquo;s no such thing as principles,
+there&rsquo;s no such thing as principles&mdash;there&rsquo;s only common
+decency!&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+At length ten o&rsquo;clock struck. The hearse was late. There were already
+several people in the shop, friends and neighbors&mdash;Monsieur Madinier,
+My-Boots, Madame Gaudron, Mademoiselle Remanjou; and every minute, a
+man&rsquo;s or a woman&rsquo;s head was thrust out of the gaping opening of the
+door between the closed shutters, to see if that creeping hearse was in sight.
+The family, all together in the back room, was shaking hands. Short pauses
+occurred interrupted by rapid whisperings, a tiresome and feverish waiting with
+sudden rushes of skirts&mdash;Madame Lorilleux who had forgotten her
+handkerchief, or else Madame Lerat who was trying to borrow a prayer-book.
+Everyone, on arriving, beheld the open coffin in the centre of the little room
+before the bed; and in spite of oneself, each stood covertly studying it,
+calculating that plump mother Coupeau would never fit into it. They all looked
+at each other with this thought in their eyes, though without communicating it.
+But there was a slight pushing at the front door. Monsieur Madinier, extending
+his arms, came and said in a low grave voice:
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Here they are!&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+It was not the hearse though. Four helpers entered hastily in single file, with
+their red faces, their hands all lumpy like persons in the habit of moving
+heavy things, and their rusty black clothes worn and frayed from constant
+rubbing against coffins. Old Bazouge walked first, very drunk and very proper.
+As soon as he was at work he found his equilibrium. They did not utter a word,
+but slightly bowed their heads, already weighing mother Coupeau with a glance.
+And they did not dawdle; the poor old woman was packed in, in the time one
+takes to sneeze. A young fellow with a squint, the smallest of the men, poured
+the bran into the coffin and spread it out. The tall and thin one spread the
+winding sheet over the bran. Then, two at the feet and two at the head, all
+four took hold of the body and lifted it. Mother Coupeau was in the box, but it
+was a tight fit. She touched on every side.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The undertaker&rsquo;s helpers were now standing up and waiting; the little one
+with the squint took the coffin lid, by way of inviting the family to bid their
+last farewell, whilst Bazouge had filled his mouth with nails and was holding
+the hammer in readiness. Then Coupeau, his two sisters and Gervaise threw
+themselves on their knees and kissed the mamma who was going away, weeping
+bitterly, the hot tears falling on and streaming down the stiff face now cold
+as ice. There was a prolonged sound of sobbing. The lid was placed on, and old
+Bazouge knocked the nails in with the style of a packer, two blows for each;
+and they none of them listened any longer to their own weeping in that din,
+which resembled the noise of furniture being repaired. It was over. The time
+for starting had arrived.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;What a fuss to make at such a time!&rdquo; said Madame Lorilleux to her
+husband as she caught sight of the hearse before the door.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The hearse was creating quite a revolution in the neighborhood. The
+tripe-seller called to the grocer&rsquo;s men, the little clockmaker came out
+on to the pavement, the neighbors leant out of their windows; and all these
+people talked about the scallop with its white cotton fringe. Ah! the Coupeaus
+would have done better to have paid their debts. But as the Lorilleuxs said,
+when one is proud it shows itself everywhere and in spite of everything.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;It&rsquo;s shameful!&rdquo; Gervaise was saying at the same moment,
+speaking of the chainmaker and his wife. &ldquo;To think that those skinflints
+have not even brought a bunch of violets for their mother!&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The Lorilleuxs, true enough, had come empty-handed. Madame Lerat had given a
+wreath of artificial flowers. And a wreath of immortelles and a bouquet bought
+by the Coupeaus were also placed on the coffin. The undertaker&rsquo;s helpers
+had to give a mighty heave to lift the coffin and carry it to the hearse. It
+was some time before the procession was formed. Coupeau and Lorilleux, in frock
+coats and with their hats in their hands, were chief mourners. The first, in
+his emotion which two glasses of white wine early in the morning had helped to
+sustain, clung to his brother-in-law&rsquo;s arm, with no strength in his legs,
+and a violent headache. Then followed the other men&mdash;Monsieur Madinier,
+very grave and all in black; My-Boots, wearing a great-coat over his blouse;
+Boche, whose yellow trousers produced the effect of a petard; Lantier, Gaudron,
+Bibi-the-Smoker, Poisson and others. The ladies came next&mdash;in the first
+row Madame Lorilleux, dragging the deceased&rsquo;s skirt, which she had
+altered; Madame Lerat, hiding under a shawl her hastily got-up mourning, a gown
+with lilac trimmings; and following them, Virginie, Madame Gaudron, Madame
+Fauconnier, Mademoiselle Remanjou and the rest. When the hearse started and
+slowly descended the Rue de la Goutte-d&rsquo;Or, amidst signs of the cross and
+heads bared, the four helpers took the lead, two in front, the two others on
+the right and left. Gervaise had remained behind to close the shop. She left
+Nana with Madame Boche and ran to rejoin the procession, whilst the child,
+firmly held by the concierge under the porch, watched with a deeply interested
+gaze her grandmother disappear at the end of the street in that beautiful
+carriage.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+At the moment when Gervaise caught up with the procession, Goujet arrived from
+another direction. He nodded to her so sympathetically that she was reminded of
+how unhappy she was, and began to cry again as Goujet took his place with the
+men.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The ceremony at the church was soon got through. The mass dragged a little,
+though, because the priest was very old. My-Boots and Bibi-the-Smoker preferred
+to remain outside on account of the collection. Monsieur Madinier studied the
+priests all the while, and communicated his observations to Lantier. Those
+jokers, though so glib with their Latin, did not even know a word of what they
+were saying. They buried a person just in the same way that they would have
+baptized or married him, without the least feeling in their heart.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Happily, the cemetery was not far off, the little cemetery of La Chapelle, a
+bit of a garden which opened on to the Rue Marcadet. The procession arrived
+disbanded, with stampings of feet and everybody talking of his own affairs. The
+hard earth resounded, and many would have liked to have moved about to keep
+themselves warm. The gaping hole beside which the coffin was laid was already
+frozen over, and looked white and stony, like a plaster quarry; and the
+followers, grouped round little heaps of gravel, did not find it pleasant
+standing in such piercing cold, whilst looking at the hole likewise bored them.
+At length a priest in a surplice came out of a little cottage. He shivered, and
+one could see his steaming breath at each <i>de profundis</i> that he uttered.
+At the final sign of the cross he bolted off, without the least desire to go
+through the service again. The sexton took his shovel, but on account of the
+frost, he was only able to detach large lumps of earth, which beat a fine tune
+down below, a regular bombardment of the coffin, an enfilade of artillery
+sufficient to make one think the wood was splitting. One may be a cynic;
+nevertheless that sort of music soon upsets one&rsquo;s stomach. The weeping
+recommenced. They moved off, they even got outside, but they still heard the
+detonations. My-Boots, blowing on his fingers, uttered an observation aloud.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;<i>Tonnerre de Dieu!</i> poor mother Coupeau won&rsquo;t feel very
+warm!&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Ladies and gentlemen,&rdquo; said the zinc-worker to the few friends who
+remained in the street with the family, &ldquo;will you permit us to offer you
+some refreshments?&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+He led the way to a wine shop in the Rue Marcadet, the &ldquo;Arrival at the
+Cemetery.&rdquo; Gervaise, remaining outside, called Goujet, who was moving
+off, after again nodding to her. Why didn&rsquo;t he accept a glass of wine? He
+was in a hurry; he was going back to the workshop. Then they looked at each
+other a moment without speaking.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;I must ask your pardon for troubling you about the sixty francs,&rdquo;
+at length murmured the laundress. &ldquo;I was half crazy, I thought of
+you&mdash;&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Oh! don&rsquo;t mention it; you&rsquo;re fully forgiven,&rdquo;
+interrupted the blacksmith. &ldquo;And you know, I am quite at your service if
+any misfortune should overtake you. But don&rsquo;t say anything to mamma,
+because she has her ideas, and I don&rsquo;t wish to cause her
+annoyance.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+She gazed at him. He seemed to her such a good man, and sad-looking, and so
+handsome. She was on the verge of accepting his former proposal, to go away
+with him and find happiness together somewhere else. Then an evil thought came
+to her. It was the idea of borrowing the six months&rsquo; back rent from him.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+She trembled and resumed in a caressing tone of voice:
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;We&rsquo;re still friends, aren&rsquo;t we?&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+He shook his head as he answered:
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Yes, we&rsquo;ll always be friends. It&rsquo;s just that, you know, all
+is over between us.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+And he went off with long strides, leaving Gervaise bewildered, listening to
+his last words which rang in her ears with the clang of a big bell. On entering
+the wine shop, she seemed to hear a hollow voice within her which said,
+&ldquo;All is over, well! All is over; there is nothing more for me to do if
+all is over!&rdquo; Sitting down, she swallowed a mouthful of bread and cheese,
+and emptied a glass full of wine which she found before her.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The wine shop was a single, long room with a low ceiling occupied by two large
+tables on which loaves of bread, large chunks of Brie cheese and bottles of
+wine were set out. They ate informally, without a tablecloth. Near the stove at
+the back the undertaker&rsquo;s helpers were finishing their lunch.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;<i>Mon Dieu!</i>&rdquo; exclaimed Monsieur Madinier, &ldquo;we each have
+our time. The old folks make room for the young ones. Your lodging will seem
+very empty to you now when you go home.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Oh! my brother is going to give notice,&rdquo; said Madame Lorilleux
+quickly. &ldquo;That shop&rsquo;s ruined.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+They had been working upon Coupeau. Everyone was urging him to give up the
+lease. Madame Lerat herself, who had been on very good terms with Lantier and
+Virginie for some time past, and who was tickled with the idea that they were a
+trifle smitten with each other, talked of bankruptcy and prison, putting on the
+most terrified airs. And suddenly, the zinc-worker, already overdosed with
+liquor, flew into a passion, his emotion turned to fury.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Listen,&rdquo; cried he, poking his nose in his wife&rsquo;s face;
+&ldquo;I intend that you shall listen to me! Your confounded head will always
+have its own way. But, this time, I intend to have mine, I warn you!&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Ah! well,&rdquo; said Lantier, &ldquo;one never yet brought her to
+reason by fair words; it wants a mallet to drive it into her head.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+For a time they both went on at her. Meanwhile, the Brie was quickly
+disappearing and the wine bottles were pouring like fountains. Gervaise began
+to weaken under this persistent pounding. She answered nothing, but hurried
+herself, her mouth ever full, as though she had been very hungry. When they got
+tired, she gently raised her head and said:
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;That&rsquo;s enough, isn&rsquo;t it? I don&rsquo;t care a straw for the
+shop! I want no more of it. Do you understand? It can go to the deuce! All is
+over!&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Then they ordered some more bread and cheese and talked business. The Poissons
+took the rest of the lease and agreed to be answerable for the two
+quarters&rsquo; rent overdue. Boche, moreover, pompously agreed to the
+arrangement in the landlord&rsquo;s name. He even then and there let a lodging
+to the Coupeaus&mdash;the vacant one on the sixth floor, in the same passage as
+the Lorilleuxs&rsquo; apartment. As for Lantier, well! He would like to keep
+his room, if it did not inconvenience the Poissons. The policeman bowed; it did
+not inconvenience him at all; friends always get on together, in spite of any
+difference in their political ideas. And Lantier, without mixing himself up any
+more in the matter, like a man who has at length settled his little business,
+helped himself to an enormous slice of bread and cheese; he leant back in his
+chair and ate devoutly, his blood tingling beneath his skin, his whole body
+burning with a sly joy, and he blinked his eyes to peep first at Gervaise, and
+then at Virginie.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Hi! Old Bazouge!&rdquo; called Coupeau, &ldquo;come and have a drink.
+We&rsquo;re not proud; we&rsquo;re all workers.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The four undertaker&rsquo;s helpers, who had started to leave, came back to
+raise glasses with the group. They thought that the lady had weighed quite a
+bit and they had certainly earned a glass of wine. Old Bazouge gazed steadily
+at Gervaise without saying a word. It made her feel uneasy though and she got
+up and left the men who were beginning to show signs of being drunk. Coupeau
+began to sob again, saying he was feeling very sad.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+That evening when Gervaise found herself at home again, she remained in a
+stupefied state on a chair. It seemed to her that the rooms were immense and
+deserted. Really, it would be a good riddance. But it was certainly not only
+mother Coupeau that she had left at the bottom of the hole in the little garden
+of the Rue Marcadet. She missed too many things, most likely a part of her
+life, and her shop, and her pride of being an employer, and other feelings
+besides, which she had buried on that day. Yes, the walls were bare, and her
+heart also; it was a complete clear out, a tumble into the pit. And she felt
+too tired; she would pick herself up again later on if she could.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+At ten o&rsquo;clock, when undressing, Nana cried and stamped. She wanted to
+sleep in mother Coupeau&rsquo;s bed. Her mother tried to frighten her; but the
+child was too precocious. Corpses only filled her with a great curiosity; so
+that, for the sake of peace, she was allowed to lie down in mother
+Coupeau&rsquo;s place. She liked big beds, the chit; she spread herself out and
+rolled about. She slept uncommonly well that night in the warm and pleasant
+feather bed.
+</p>
+
+</div><!--end chapter-->
+
+<div class="chapter">
+
+<h2><a name="link2HCH0010" id="link2HCH0010"></a>
+CHAPTER X</h2>
+
+<p>
+The Coupeaus&rsquo; new lodging was on the sixth floor, staircase B. After
+passing Mademoiselle Remanjou&rsquo;s door, you took the corridor to the left,
+and then turned again further along. The first door was for the apartment of
+the Bijards. Almost opposite, in an airless corner under a small staircase
+leading to the roof, was where Pere Bru slept. Two doors further was
+Bazouge&rsquo;s room and the Coupeaus were opposite him, overlooking the court,
+with one room and a closet. There were only two more doors along the corridor
+before reaching that of the Lorilleuxs at the far end.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+A room and a closet, no more. The Coupeaus perched there now. And the room was
+scarcely larger than one&rsquo;s hand. And they had to do everything in
+there&mdash;eat, sleep, and all the rest. Nana&rsquo;s bed just squeezed into
+the closet; she had to dress in her father and mother&rsquo;s room, and her
+door was kept open at night-time so that she should not be suffocated. There
+was so little space that Gervaise had left many things in the shop for the
+Poissons. A bed, a table, and four chairs completely filled their new apartment
+but she didn&rsquo;t have the courage to part with her old bureau and so it
+blocked off half the window. This made the room dark and gloomy, especially
+since one shutter was stuck shut. Gervaise was now so fat that there
+wasn&rsquo;t room for her in the limited window space and she had to lean
+sideways and crane her neck if she wanted to see the courtyard.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+During the first few days, the laundress would continually sit down and cry. It
+seemed to her too hard, not being able to move about in her home, after having
+been used to so much room. She felt stifled; she remained at the window for
+hours, squeezed between the wall and the drawers and getting a stiff neck. It
+was only there that she could breathe freely. However, the courtyard inspired
+rather melancholy thoughts. Opposite her, on the sunny side, she would see that
+same window she had dreamed about long ago where the spring brought scarlet
+vines. Her own room was on the shady side where pots of mignonette died within
+a week. Oh, this wasn&rsquo;t at all the sort of life she had dreamed of. She
+had to wallow in filth instead of having flowers all about her.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+On leaning out one day, Gervaise experienced a peculiar sensation: she fancied
+she beheld herself down below, near the concierge&rsquo;s room under the porch,
+her nose in the air, and examining the house for the first time; and this leap
+thirteen years backwards caused her heart to throb. The courtyard was a little
+dingier and the walls more stained, otherwise it hadn&rsquo;t changed much. But
+she herself felt terribly changed and worn. To begin with, she was no longer
+below, her face raised to heaven, feeling content and courageous and aspiring
+to a handsome lodging. She was right up under the roof, among the most
+wretched, in the dirtiest hole, the part that never received a ray of sunshine.
+And that explained her tears; she could scarcely feel enchanted with her fate.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+However, when Gervaise had grown somewhat used to it, the early days of the
+little family in their new home did not pass off so badly. The winter was
+almost over, and the trifle of money received for the furniture sold to
+Virginie helped to make things comfortable. Then with the fine weather came a
+piece of luck, Coupeau was engaged to work in the country at Etampes; and he
+was there for nearly three months without once getting drunk, cured for a time
+by the fresh air. One has no idea what a quench it is to the tippler&rsquo;s
+thirst to leave Paris where the very streets are full of the fumes of wine and
+brandy. On his return he was as fresh as a rose, and he brought back in his
+pocket four hundred francs with which they paid the two overdue quarters&rsquo;
+rent at the shop that the Poissons had become answerable for, and also the most
+pressing of their little debts in the neighborhood. Gervaise thus opened two or
+three streets through which she had not passed for a long time.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+She had naturally become an ironer again. Madame Fauconnier was quite
+good-hearted if you flattered her a bit, and she was happy to take Gervaise
+back, even paying her the same three francs a day as her best worker. This was
+out of respect for her former status as an employer. The household seemed to be
+getting on well and Gervaise looked forward to the day when all the debts would
+be paid. Hard work and economy would solve all their money troubles.
+Unfortunately, she dreamed of this in the warm satisfaction of the large sum
+earned by her husband. Soon, she said that the good things never lasted and
+took things as they came.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+What the Coupeaus most suffered from at that time was seeing the Poissons
+installing themselves at their former shop. They were not naturally of a
+particularly jealous disposition, but people aggravated them by purposely
+expressing amazement in their presence at the embellishments of their
+successors. The Boches and the Lorilleuxs especially, never tired. According to
+them, no one had ever seen so beautiful a shop. They were also continually
+mentioning the filthy state in which the Poissons had found the premises,
+saying that it had cost thirty francs for the cleaning alone.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+After much deliberation, Virginie had decided to open a shop specializing in
+candies, chocolate, coffee and tea. Lantier had advised this, saying there was
+much money to be made from such delicacies. The shop was stylishly painted
+black with yellow stripes. Three carpenters worked for eight days on the
+interior, putting up shelves, display cases and counters. Poisson&rsquo;s small
+inheritance must have been almost completely used, but Virginie was ecstatic.
+The Lorilleuxs and the Boches made sure that Gervaise did not miss a single
+improvement and chuckled to themselves while watching her expression.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+There was also a question of a man beneath all this. It was reported that
+Lantier had broken off with Gervaise. The neighborhood declared that it was
+quite right. In short, it gave a moral tone to the street. And all the honor of
+the separation was accorded to the crafty hatter on whom all the ladies
+continued to dote. Some said that she was still crazy about him and he had to
+slap her to make her leave him alone. Of course, no one told the actual truth.
+It was too simple and not interesting enough.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Actually Lantier climbed to the sixth floor to see her whenever he felt the
+impulse. Mademoiselle Remanjou had often seen him coming out of the
+Coupeaus&rsquo; at odd hours.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The situation was even more complicated by neighborhood gossip linking Lantier
+and Virginie. The neighbors were a bit too hasty in this also; he had not even
+reached the stage of buttock-pinching with her. Still, the Lorilleuxs delighted
+in talking sympathetically to Gervaise about the affair between Lantier and
+Virginie. The Boches maintained they had never seen a more handsome couple. The
+odd thing in all this was that the Rue de la Goutte-d&rsquo;Or seemed to have
+no objection to this new arrangement which everyone thought was progressing
+nicely. Those who had been so harsh to Gervaise were now quite lenient toward
+Virginie.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Gervaise had previously heard numerous reports about Lantier&rsquo;s affairs
+with all sorts of girls on the street and they had bothered her so little that
+she hadn&rsquo;t even felt enough resentment to break off the affair. However,
+this new intrigue with Virginie wasn&rsquo;t quite so easy to accept because
+she was sure that the two of them were just out to spite her. She hid her
+resentment though to avoid giving any satisfaction to her enemies. Mademoiselle
+Remanjou thought that Gervaise had words with Lantier over this because one
+afternoon she heard the sound of a slap. There was certainly a quarrel because
+Lantier stopped speaking to Gervaise for a couple of weeks, but then he was the
+first one to make up and things seemed to go along the same as before.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Coupeau found all this most amusing. The complacent husband who had been blind
+to his own situation laughed heartily at Poisson&rsquo;s predicament. Then
+Coupeau even teased Gervaise. Her lovers always dropped her. First the
+blacksmith and now the hatmaker. The trouble was that she got involved with
+undependable trades. She should take up with a mason, a good solid man. He said
+such things as if he were joking, but they upset Gervaise because his small
+grey eyes seemed to be boring right into her.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+On evenings when Coupeau became bored being alone with his wife up in their
+tiny hole under the roof, he would go down for Lantier and invite him up. He
+thought their dump was too dreary without Lantier&rsquo;s company so he patched
+things up between Gervaise and Lantier whenever they had a falling out.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+In the midst of all this Lantier put on the most consequential airs. He showed
+himself both paternal and dignified. On three successive occasions he had
+prevented a quarrel between the Coupeaus and the Poissons. The good
+understanding between the two families formed a part of his contentment. Thanks
+to the tender though firm glances with which he watched over Gervaise and
+Virginie, they always pretended to entertain a great friendship for each other.
+He reigned over both blonde and brunette with the tranquillity of a pasha, and
+fattened on his cunning. The rogue was still digesting the Coupeaus when he
+already began to devour the Poissons. Oh, it did not inconvenience him much! As
+soon as one shop was swallowed, he started on a second. It was only men of his
+sort who ever have any luck.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+It was in June of that year that Nana was confirmed. She was then nearly
+thirteen years old, as tall as an asparagus shoot run to seed, and had a bold,
+impudent air about her. The year before she had been sent away from the
+catechism class on account of her bad behavior; and the priest had only allowed
+her to join it this time through fear of losing her altogether, and of casting
+one more heathen onto the street. Nana danced for joy as she thought of the
+white dress. The Lorilleuxs, being godfather and godmother, had promised to
+provide it, and took care to let everyone in the house know of their present.
+Madame Lerat was to give the veil and the cap, Virginie the purse, and Lantier
+the prayer-book; so that the Coupeaus looked forward to the ceremony without
+any great anxiety. Even the Poissons, wishing to give a house-warming, chose
+this occasion, no doubt on the hatter&rsquo;s advice. They invited the Coupeaus
+and the Boches, whose little girl was also going to be confirmed. They provided
+a leg of mutton and trimmings for the evening in question.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+It so happened that on the evening before, Coupeau returned home in a most
+abominable condition, just as Nana was lost in admiration before the presents
+spread out on the top of the chest of drawers. The Paris atmosphere was getting
+the better of him again; and he fell foul of his wife and child with drunken
+arguments and disgusting language which no one should have uttered at such a
+time. Nana herself was beginning to get hold of some very bad expressions in
+the midst of the filthy conversations she was continually hearing. On the days
+when there was a row, she would often call her mother an old camel and a cow.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Where&rsquo;s my food?&rdquo; yelled the zinc-worker. &ldquo;I want my
+soup, you couple of jades! There&rsquo;s females for you, always thinking of
+finery! I&rsquo;ll sit on the gee-gaws, you know, if I don&rsquo;t get my
+soup!&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;He&rsquo;s unbearable when he&rsquo;s drunk,&rdquo; murmured Gervaise,
+out of patience; and turning towards him, she exclaimed:
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;It&rsquo;s warming up, don&rsquo;t bother us.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Nana was being modest, because she thought it nice on such a day. She continued
+to look at the presents on the chest of drawers, affectedly lowering her
+eyelids and pretending not to understand her father&rsquo;s naughty words. But
+the zinc-worker was an awful plague on the nights when he had had too much.
+Poking his face right against her neck, he said:
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;I&rsquo;ll give you white dresses! So the finery tickles your fancy.
+They excite your imagination. Just you cut away from there, you ugly little
+brat! Move your hands about, bundle them all into a drawer!&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Nana, with bowed head, did not answer a word. She had taken up the little tulle
+cap and was asking her mother how much it cost. And as Coupeau thrust out his
+hand to seize hold of the cap, it was Gervaise who pushed him aside exclaiming:
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Do leave the child alone! She&rsquo;s very good, she&rsquo;s doing no
+harm.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Then the zinc-worker let out in real earnest.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Ah! the viragos! The mother and daughter, they make the pair. It&rsquo;s
+a nice thing to go to church just to leer at the men. Dare to say it
+isn&rsquo;t true, little slattern! I&rsquo;ll dress you in a sack, just to
+disgust you, you and your priests. I don&rsquo;t want you to be taught anything
+worse than you know already. <i>Mon Dieu!</i> Just listen to me, both of
+you!&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+At this Nana turned round in a fury, whilst Gervaise had to spread out her arms
+to protect the things which Coupeau talked of tearing. The child looked her
+father straight in the face; then, forgetting the modest bearing inculcated by
+her confessor, she said, clinching her teeth: &ldquo;Pig!&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+As soon as the zinc-worker had had his soup he went off to sleep. On the morrow
+he awoke in a very good humor. He still felt a little of the booze of the day
+before but only just sufficient to make him amiable. He assisted at the
+dressing of the child, deeply affected by the white dress and finding that a
+mere nothing gave the little vermin quite the look of a young lady.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The two families started off together for the church. Nana and Pauline walked
+first, their prayer-books in their hands and holding down their veils on
+account of the wind; they did not speak but were bursting with delight at
+seeing people come to their shop-doors, and they smiled primly and devoutly
+every time they heard anyone say as they passed that they looked very nice.
+Madame Boche and Madame Lorilleux lagged behind, because they were
+interchanging their ideas about Clump-clump, a gobble-all, whose daughter would
+never have been confirmed if the relations had not found everything for her;
+yes, everything, even a new chemise, out of respect for the holy altar. Madame
+Lorilleux was rather concerned about the dress, calling Nana a dirty thing
+every time the child got dust on her skirt by brushing against the store
+fronts.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+At church Coupeau wept all the time. It was stupid but he could not help it. It
+affected him to see the priest holding out his arms and all the little girls,
+looking like angels, pass before him, clasping their hands; and the music of
+the organ stirred up his stomach and the pleasant smell of the incense forced
+him to sniff, the same as though someone had thrust a bouquet of flowers into
+his face. In short he saw everything cerulean, his heart was touched. Anyway,
+other sensitive souls around him were wetting their handkerchiefs. This was a
+beautiful day, the most beautiful of his life. After leaving the church,
+Coupeau went for a drink with Lorilleux, who had remained dry-eyed.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+That evening the Poissons&rsquo; house-warming was very lively. Friendship
+reigned without a hitch from one end of the feast to the other. When bad times
+arrive one thus comes in for some pleasant evenings, hours during which sworn
+enemies love each other. Lantier, with Gervaise on his left and Virginie on his
+right, was most amiable to both of them, lavishing little tender caresses like
+a cock who desires peace in his poultry-yard. But the queens of the feast were
+the two little ones, Nana and Pauline, who had been allowed to keep on their
+things; they sat bolt upright through fear of spilling anything on their white
+dresses and at every mouthful they were told to hold up their chins so as to
+swallow cleanly. Nana, greatly bored by all this fuss, ended by slobbering her
+wine over the body of her dress, so it was taken off and the stains were at
+once washed out in a glass of water.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Then at dessert the children&rsquo;s future careers were gravely discussed.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Madame Boche had decided that Pauline would enter a shop to learn how to punch
+designs on gold and silver. That paid five or six francs a day. Gervaise
+didn&rsquo;t know yet because Nana had never indicated any preference.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;In your place,&rdquo; said Madame Lerat, &ldquo;I would bring Nana up as
+an artificial flower-maker. It is a pleasant and clean employment.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Flower-makers?&rdquo; muttered Lorilleux. &ldquo;Every one of them might
+as well walk the streets.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Well, what about me?&rdquo; objected Madame Lerat, pursing her lips.
+&ldquo;You&rsquo;re certainly not very polite. I assure you that I don&rsquo;t
+lie down for anyone who whistles.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Then all the rest joined together in hushing her. &ldquo;Madame Lerat! Oh,
+Madame Lerat!&rdquo; By side glances they reminded her of the two girls, fresh
+from communion, who were burying their noses in their glasses to keep from
+laughing out loud. The men had been very careful, for propriety&rsquo;s sake,
+to use only suitable language, but Madame Lerat refused to follow their
+example. She flattered herself on her command of language, as she had often
+been complimented on the way she could say anything before children, without
+any offence to decency.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Just you listen, there are some very fine women among the
+flower-makers!&rdquo; she insisted. &ldquo;They&rsquo;re just like other women
+and they show good taste when they choose to commit a sin.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;<i>Mon Dieu!</i>&rdquo; interrupted Gervaise, &ldquo;I&rsquo;ve no
+dislike for artificial flower-making. Only it must please Nana, that&rsquo;s
+all I care about; one should never thwart children on the question of a
+vocation. Come Nana, don&rsquo;t be stupid; tell me now, would you like to make
+flowers?&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The child was leaning over her plate gathering up the cake crumbs with her wet
+finger, which she afterwards sucked. She did not hurry herself. She grinned in
+her vicious way.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Why yes, mamma, I should like to,&rdquo; she ended by declaring.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Then the matter was at once settled. Coupeau was quite willing that Madame
+Lerat should take the child with her on the morrow to the place where she
+worked in the Rue du Caire. And they all talked very gravely of the duties of
+life. Boche said that Nana and Pauline were women now that they had partaken of
+communion. Poisson added that for the future they ought to know how to cook,
+mend socks and look after a house. Something was even said of their marrying,
+and of the children they would some day have. The youngsters listened, laughing
+to themselves, elated by the thought of being women. What pleased them the most
+was when Lantier teased them, asking if they didn&rsquo;t already have little
+husbands. Nana eventually admitted that she cared a great deal for Victor
+Fauconnier, son of her mother&rsquo;s employer.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Ah well,&rdquo; said Madame Lorilleux to the Boches, as they were all
+leaving, &ldquo;she&rsquo;s our goddaughter, but as they&rsquo;re going to put
+her into artificial flower-making, we don&rsquo;t wish to have anything more to
+do with her. Just one more for the boulevards. She&rsquo;ll be leading them a
+merry chase before six months are over.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+On going up to bed, the Coupeaus agreed that everything had passed off well and
+that the Poissons were not at all bad people. Gervaise even considered the shop
+was nicely got up. She was surprised to discover that it hadn&rsquo;t pained
+her at all to spend an evening there. While Nana was getting ready for bed she
+contemplated her white dress and asked her mother if the young lady on the
+third floor had had one like it when she was married last month.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+This was their last happy day. Two years passed by, during which they sank
+deeper and deeper. The winters were especially hard for them. If they had bread
+to eat during the fine weather, the rain and cold came accompanied by famine,
+by drubbings before the empty cupboard, and by dinner-hours with nothing to eat
+in the little Siberia of their larder. Villainous December brought numbing
+freezing spells and the black misery of cold and dampness.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The first winter they occasionally had a fire, choosing to keep warm rather
+than to eat. But the second winter, the stove stood mute with its rust, adding
+a chill to the room, standing there like a cast-iron gravestone. And what took
+the life out of their limbs, what above all utterly crushed them was the rent.
+Oh! the January quarter, when there was not a radish in the house and old Boche
+came up with the bill! It was like a bitter storm, a regular tempest from the
+north. Monsieur Marescot then arrived the following Saturday, wrapped up in a
+good warm overcoat, his big hands hidden in woolen gloves; and he was for ever
+talking of turning them out, whilst the snow continued to fall outside, as
+though it were preparing a bed for them on the pavement with white sheets. To
+have paid the quarter&rsquo;s rent they would have sold their very flesh. It
+was the rent which emptied the larder and the stove.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+No doubt the Coupeaus had only themselves to blame. Life may be a hard fight,
+but one always pulls through when one is orderly and economical&mdash;witness
+the Lorilleuxs, who paid their rent to the day, the money folded up in bits of
+dirty paper. But they, it is true, led a life of starved spiders, which would
+disgust one with hard work. Nana as yet earned nothing at flower-making; she
+even cost a good deal for her keep. At Madame Fauconnier&rsquo;s Gervaise was
+beginning to be looked down upon. She was no longer so expert. She bungled her
+work to such an extent that the mistress had reduced her wages to two francs a
+day, the price paid to the clumsiest bungler. But she was still proud,
+reminding everyone of her former status as boss of her own shop. When Madame
+Fauconnier hired Madame Putois, Gervaise was so annoyed at having to work
+beside her former employee that she stayed away for two weeks.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+As for Coupeau, he did perhaps work, but in that case he certainly made a
+present of his labor to the Government, for since the time he returned from
+Etampes Gervaise had never seen the color of his money. She no longer looked in
+his hands when he came home on paydays. He arrived swinging his arms, his
+pockets empty, and often without his handkerchief; well, yes, he had lost his
+rag, or else some rascally comrade had sneaked it. At first he always fibbed;
+there was a donation to charity, or some money slipped through the hole in his
+pocket, or he paid off some imaginary debts. Later, he didn&rsquo;t even bother
+to make up anything. He had nothing left because it had all gone into his
+stomach.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Madame Boche suggested to Gervaise that she go to wait for him at the shop
+exit. This rarely worked though, because Coupeau&rsquo;s comrades would warn
+him and the money would disappear into his shoe or someone else&rsquo;s pocket.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Yes, it was their own fault if every season found them lower and lower. But
+that&rsquo;s the sort of thing one never tells oneself, especially when one is
+down in the mire. They accused their bad luck; they pretended that fate was
+against them. Their home had become a regular shambles where they wrangled the
+whole day long. However, they had not yet come to blows, with the exception of
+a few impulsive smacks, which somehow flew about at the height of their
+quarrels. The saddest part of the business was that they had opened the cage of
+affection; all their better feelings had taken flight, like so many canaries.
+The genial warmth of father, mother and child, when united together and wrapped
+up in each other, deserted them, and left them shivering, each in his or her
+own corner. All three&mdash;Coupeau, Gervaise and Nana&mdash;were always in the
+most abominable tempers, biting each other&rsquo;s noses off for nothing at
+all, their eyes full of hatred; and it seemed as though something had broken
+the mainspring of the family, the mechanism which, with happy people, causes
+hearts to beat in unison. Ah! it was certain Gervaise was no longer moved as
+she used to be when she saw Coupeau at the edge of a roof forty or fifty feet
+above the pavement. She would not have pushed him off herself, but if he had
+fallen accidentally, in truth it would have freed the earth of one who was of
+but little account. The days when they were more especially at enmity she would
+ask him why he didn&rsquo;t come back on a stretcher. She was awaiting it. It
+would be her good luck they were bringing back to her. What use was
+he&mdash;that drunkard? To make her weep, to devour all she possessed, to drive
+her to sin. Well! Men so useless as he should be thrown as quickly as possible
+into the hole and the polka of deliverance be danced over them. And when the
+mother said &ldquo;Kill him!&rdquo; the daughter responded &ldquo;Knock him on
+the head!&rdquo; Nana read all of the reports of accidents in the newspapers,
+and made reflections that were unnatural for a girl. Her father had such good
+luck an omnibus had knocked him down without even sobering him. Would the
+beggar never croak?
+</p>
+
+<p>
+In the midst of her own poverty Gervaise suffered even more because other
+families around her were also starving to death. Their corner of the tenement
+housed the most wretched. There was not a family that ate every day.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Gervaise felt the most pity for Pere Bru in his cubbyhole under the staircase
+where he hibernated. Sometimes he stayed on his bed of straw without moving for
+days. Even hunger no longer drove him out since there was no use taking a walk
+when no one would invite him to dinner. Whenever he didn&rsquo;t show his face
+for several days, the neighbors would push open his door to see if his troubles
+were over. No, he was still alive, just barely. Even Death seemed to have
+neglected him. Whenever Gervaise had any bread she gave him the crusts. Even
+when she hated all men because of her husband, she still felt sincerely sorry
+for Pere Bru, the poor old man. They were letting him starve to death because
+he could no longer hold tools in his hand.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The laundress also suffered a great deal from the close neighborhood of
+Bazouge, the undertaker&rsquo;s helper. A simple partition, and a very thin
+one, separated the two rooms. He could not put his fingers down his throat
+without her hearing it. As soon as he came home of an evening she listened, in
+spite of herself, to everything he did. His black leather hat laid with a dull
+thud on the chest of drawers, like a shovelful of earth; the black cloak hung
+up and rustling against the walls like the wings of some night bird; all the
+black toggery flung into the middle of the room and filling it with the
+trappings of mourning. She heard him stamping about, felt anxious at the least
+movement, and was quite startled if he knocked against the furniture or rattled
+any of his crockery. This confounded drunkard was her preoccupation, filling
+her with a secret fear mingled with a desire to know. He, jolly, his belly full
+every day, his head all upside down, coughed, spat, sang &ldquo;Mother
+Godichon,&rdquo; made use of many dirty expressions and fought with the four
+walls before finding his bedstead. And she remained quite pale, wondering what
+he could be doing in there. She imagined the most atrocious things. She got
+into her head that he must have brought a corpse home, and was stowing it away
+under his bedstead. Well! the newspapers had related something of the
+kind&mdash;an undertaker&rsquo;s helper who collected the coffins of little
+children at his home, so as to save himself trouble and to make only one
+journey to the cemetery.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+For certain, directly Bazouge arrived, a smell of death seemed to permeate the
+partition. One might have thought oneself lodging against the Pere Lachaise
+cemetery, in the midst of the kingdom of moles. He was frightful, the animal,
+continually laughing all by himself, as though his profession enlivened him.
+Even when he had finished his rumpus and had laid himself on his back, he
+snored in a manner so extraordinary that it caused the laundress to hold her
+breath. For hours she listened attentively, with an idea that funerals were
+passing through her neighbor&rsquo;s room.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The worst was that, in spite of her terrors, something incited Gervaise to put
+her ear to the wall, the better to find out what was taking place. Bazouge had
+the same effect on her as handsome men have on good women: they would like to
+touch them. Well! if fear had not kept her back, Gervaise would have liked to
+have handled death, to see what it was like. She became so peculiar at times,
+holding her breath, listening attentively, expecting to unravel the secret
+through one of Bazouge&rsquo;s movements, that Coupeau would ask her with a
+chuckle if she had a fancy for that gravedigger next door. She got angry and
+talked of moving, the close proximity of this neighbor was so distasteful to
+her; and yet, in spite of herself, as soon as the old chap arrived, smelling
+like a cemetery, she became wrapped again in her reflections, with the excited
+and timorous air of a wife thinking of passing a knife through the marriage
+contract. Had he not twice offered to pack her up and carry her off with him to
+some place where the enjoyment of sleep is so great, that in a moment one
+forgets all one&rsquo;s wretchedness? Perhaps it was really very pleasant.
+Little by little the temptation to taste it became stronger. She would have
+liked to have tried it for a fortnight or a month. Oh! to sleep a month,
+especially in winter, the month when the rent became due, when the troubles of
+life were killing her! But it was not possible&mdash;one must sleep forever, if
+one commences to sleep for an hour; and the thought of this froze her, her
+desire for death departed before the eternal and stern friendship which the
+earth demanded.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+However, one evening in January she knocked with both her fists against the
+partition. She had passed a frightful week, hustled by everyone, without a sou,
+and utterly discouraged. That evening she was not at all well, she shivered
+with fever, and seemed to see flames dancing about her. Then, instead of
+throwing herself out of the window, as she had at one moment thought of doing,
+she set to knocking and calling:
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Old Bazouge! Old Bazouge!&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The undertaker&rsquo;s helper was taking off his shoes and singing,
+&ldquo;There were three lovely girls.&rdquo; He had probably had a good day,
+for he seemed even more maudlin than usual.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Old Bazouge! Old Bazouge!&rdquo; repeated Gervaise, raising her voice.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Did he not hear her then? She was ready to give herself at once; he might come
+and take her on his neck, and carry her off to the place where he carried his
+other women, the poor and the rich, whom he consoled. It pained her to hear his
+song, &ldquo;There were three lovely girls,&rdquo; because she discerned in it
+the disdain of a man with too many sweethearts.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;What is it? what is it?&rdquo; stuttered Bazouge; &ldquo;who&rsquo;s
+unwell? We&rsquo;re coming, little woman!&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+But the sound of this husky voice awoke Gervaise as though from a nightmare.
+And a feeling of horror ascended from her knees to her shoulders at the thought
+of seeing herself lugged along in the old fellow&rsquo;s arms, all stiff and
+her face as white as a china plate.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Well! is there no one there now?&rdquo; resumed Bazouge in silence.
+&ldquo;Wait a bit, we&rsquo;re always ready to oblige the ladies.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;It&rsquo;s nothing, nothing,&rdquo; said the laundress at length in a
+choking voice. &ldquo;I don&rsquo;t require anything, thanks.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+She remained anxious, listening to old Bazouge grumbling himself to sleep,
+afraid to stir for fear he would think he heard her knocking again.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+In her corner of misery, in the midst of her cares and the cares of others,
+Gervaise had, however, a beautiful example of courage in the home of her
+neighbors, the Bijards. Little Lalie, only eight years old and no larger than a
+sparrow, took care of the household as competently as a grown person. The job
+was not an easy one because she had two little tots, her brother Jules and her
+sister Henriette, aged three and five, to watch all day long while sweeping and
+cleaning.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Ever since Bijard had killed his wife with a kick in the stomach, Lalie had
+become the little mother of them all. Without saying a word, and of her own
+accord, she filled the place of one who had gone, to the extent that her brute
+of a father, no doubt to complete the resemblance, now belabored the daughter
+as he had formerly belabored the mother. Whenever he came home drunk, he
+required a woman to massacre. He did not even notice that Lalie was quite
+little; he would not have beaten some old trollop harder. Little Lalie, so thin
+it made you cry, took it all without a word of complaint in her beautiful,
+patient eyes. Never would she revolt. She bent her neck to protect her face and
+stifled her sobs so as not to alarm the neighbors. When her father got tired of
+kicking her, she would rest a bit until she got her strength back and then
+resume her work. It was part of her job, being beaten daily.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Gervaise entertained a great friendship for her little neighbor. She treated
+her as an equal, as a grown-up woman of experience. It must be said that Lalie
+had a pale and serious look, with the expression of an old girl. One might have
+thought her thirty on hearing her speak. She knew very well how to buy things,
+mend the clothes, attend to the home, and she spoke of the children as though
+she had already gone through two or three nurseries in her time. It made people
+smile to hear her talk thus at eight years old; and then a lump would rise in
+their throats, and they would hurry away so as not to burst out crying.
+Gervaise drew the child towards her as much as she could, gave her all she
+could spare of food and old clothing. One day as she tried one of Nana&rsquo;s
+old dresses on her, she almost choked with anger on seeing her back covered
+with bruises, the skin off her elbow, which was still bleeding, and all her
+innocent flesh martyred and sticking to her bones. Well! Old Bazouge could get
+a box ready; she would not last long at that rate! But the child had begged the
+laundress not to say a word. She would not have her father bothered on her
+account. She took his part, affirming that he would not have been so wicked if
+it had not been for the drink. He was mad, he did not know what he did. Oh! she
+forgave him, because one ought to forgive madmen everything.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+From that time Gervaise watched and prepared to interfere directly she heard
+Bijard coming up the stairs. But on most of the occasions she only caught some
+whack for her trouble. When she entered their room in the day-time, she often
+found Lalie tied to the foot of the iron bedstead; it was an idea of the
+locksmith&rsquo;s, before going out, to tie her legs and her body with some
+stout rope, without anyone being able to find out why&mdash;a mere whim of a
+brain diseased by drink, just for the sake, no doubt, of maintaining his
+tyranny over the child when he was no longer there. Lalie, as stiff as a stake,
+with pins and needles in her legs, remained whole days at the post. She once
+even passed a night there, Bijard having forgotten to come home. Whenever
+Gervaise, carried away by her indignation, talked of unfastening her, she
+implored her not to disturb the rope, because her father became furious if he
+did not find the knots tied the same way he had left them. Really, it
+wasn&rsquo;t so bad, it gave her a rest. She smiled as she said this though her
+legs were swollen and bruised. What upset her the most was that she
+couldn&rsquo;t do her work while tied to the bed. She could watch the children
+though, and even did some knitting, so as not to entirely waste the time.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The locksmith had thought of another little game too. He heated sous in the
+frying pan, then placed them on a corner of the mantle-piece; and he called
+Lalie, and told her to fetch a couple of pounds of bread. The child took up the
+sous unsuspectingly, uttered a cry and threw them on the ground, shaking her
+burnt hand. Then he flew into a fury. Who had saddled him with such a piece of
+carrion? She lost the money now! And he threatened to beat her to a jelly if
+she did not pick the sous up at once. When the child hesitated she received the
+first warning, a clout of such force that it made her see thirty-six candles.
+Speechless and with two big tears in the corners of her eyes, she would pick up
+the sous and go off, tossing them in the palm of her hand to cool them.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+No, one could never imagine the ferocious ideas which may sprout from the
+depths of a drunkard&rsquo;s brain. One afternoon, for instance, Lalie having
+made everything tidy was playing with the children. The window was open, there
+was a draught, and the wind blowing along the passage gently shook the door.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;It&rsquo;s Monsieur Hardy,&rdquo; the child was saying. &ldquo;Come in,
+Monsieur Hardy. Pray have the kindness to walk in.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+And she curtsied before the door, she bowed to the wind. Henriette and Jules,
+behind her, also bowed, delighted with the game and splitting their sides with
+laughing, as though being tickled. She was quite rosy at seeing them so
+heartily amused and even found some pleasure in it on her own account, which
+generally only happened to her on the thirty-sixth day of each month.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Good day, Monsieur Hardy. How do you do, Monsieur Hardy?&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+But a rough hand pushed open the door, and Bijard entered. Then the scene
+changed. Henriette and Jules fell down flat against the wall; whilst Lalie,
+terrified, remained standing in the very middle of the curtsey. The locksmith
+held in his hand a big waggoner&rsquo;s whip, quite new, with a long white
+wooden handle, and a leather thong, terminating with a bit of whip-cord. He
+placed the whip in the corner against the bed and did not give the usual kick
+to the child who was already preparing herself by presenting her back. A
+chuckle exposed his blackened teeth and he was very lively, very drunk, his red
+face lighted up by some idea that amused him immensely.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;What&rsquo;s that?&rdquo; said he. &ldquo;You&rsquo;re playing the
+deuce, eh, you confounded young hussy! I could hear you dancing about from
+downstairs. Now then, come here! Nearer and full face. I don&rsquo;t want to
+sniff you from behind. Am I touching you that you tremble like a mass of
+giblets? Take my shoes off.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Lalie turned quite pale again and, amazed at not receiving her usual drubbing,
+took his shoes off. He had seated himself on the edge of the bed. He lay down
+with his clothes on and remained with his eyes open, watching the child move
+about the room. She busied herself with one thing and another, gradually
+becoming bewildered beneath his glance, her limbs overcome by such a fright
+that she ended by breaking a cup. Then, without getting off the bed, he took
+hold of the whip and showed it to her.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;See, little chickie, look at this. It&rsquo;s a present for you. Yes,
+it&rsquo;s another fifty sous you&rsquo;ve cost me. With this plaything I shall
+no longer be obliged to run after you, and it&rsquo;ll be no use you getting
+into the corners. Will you have a try? Ah! you broke a cup! Now then, gee up!
+Dance away, make your curtsies to Monsieur Hardy!&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+He did not even raise himself but lay sprawling on his back, his head buried in
+his pillow, making the big whip crack about the room with the noise of a
+postillion starting his horses. Then, lowering his arm he lashed Lalie in the
+middle of the body, encircling her with the whip and unwinding it again as
+though she were a top. She fell and tried to escape on her hands and knees; but
+lashing her again he jerked her to her feet.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Gee up, gee up!&rdquo; yelled he. &ldquo;It&rsquo;s the donkey race! Eh,
+it&rsquo;ll be fine of a cold morning in winter. I can lie snug without getting
+cold or hurting my chilblains and catch the calves from a distance. In that
+corner there, a hit, you hussy! And in that other corner, a hit again! And in
+that one, another hit. Ah! if you crawl under the bed I&rsquo;ll whack you with
+the handle. Gee up, you jade! Gee up! Gee up!&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+A slight foam came to his lips, his yellow eyes were starting from their black
+orbits. Lalie, maddened, howling, jumped to the four corners of the room,
+curled herself up on the floor and clung to the walls; but the lash at the end
+of the big whip caught her everywhere, cracking against her ears with the noise
+of fireworks, streaking her flesh with burning weals. A regular dance of the
+animal being taught its tricks. This poor kitten waltzed. It was a sight! Her
+heels in the air like little girls playing at skipping, and crying
+&ldquo;Father!&rdquo; She was all out of breath, rebounding like an
+india-rubber ball, letting herself be beaten, unable to see or any longer to
+seek a refuge. And her wolf of a father triumphed, calling her a virago, asking
+her if she had had enough and whether she understood sufficiently that she was
+in future to give up all hope of escaping from him.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+But Gervaise suddenly entered the room, attracted by the child&rsquo;s howls.
+On beholding such a scene she was seized with a furious indignation.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Ah! you brute of a man!&rdquo; cried she. &ldquo;Leave her alone, you
+brigand! I&rsquo;ll put the police on to you.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Bijard growled like an animal being disturbed, and stuttered:
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Mind your own business a bit, Limper. Perhaps you&rsquo;d like me to put
+gloves on when I stir her up. It&rsquo;s merely to warm her, as you can plainly
+see&mdash;simply to show her that I&rsquo;ve a long arm.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+And he gave a final lash with the whip which caught Lalie across the face. The
+upper lip was cut, the blood flowed. Gervaise had seized a chair, and was about
+to fall on to the locksmith; but the child held her hands towards her
+imploringly, saying that it was nothing and that it was all over. She wiped
+away the blood with the corner of her apron and quieted the babies, who were
+sobbing bitterly, as though they had received all the blows.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Whenever Gervaise thought of Lalie, she felt she had no right to complain for
+herself. She wished she had as much patient courage as the little girl who was
+only eight years old and had to endure more than the rest of the women on their
+staircase put together. She had seen Lalie living on stale bread for months and
+growing thinner and weaker. Whenever she smuggled some remnants of meat to
+Lalie, it almost broke her heart to see the child weeping silently and nibbling
+it down only by little bits because her throat was so shrunken. Gervaise looked
+on Lalie as a model of suffering and forgiveness and tried to learn from her
+how to suffer in silence.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+In the Coupeau household the vitriol of l&rsquo;Assommoir was also commencing
+its ravages. Gervaise could see the day coming when her husband would get a
+whip like Bijard&rsquo;s to make her dance.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Yes, Coupeau was spinning an evil thread. The time was past when a drink would
+make him feel good. His unhealthy soft fat of earlier years had melted away and
+he was beginning to wither and turn a leaden grey. He seemed to have a greenish
+tint like a corpse putrefying in a pond. He no longer had a taste for food, not
+even the most beautifully prepared stew. His stomach would turn and his decayed
+teeth refuse to touch it. A pint a day was his daily ration, the only
+nourishment he could digest. When he awoke in the mornings he sat coughing and
+spitting up bile for at least a quarter of an hour. It never failed, you might
+as well have the basin ready. He was never steady on his pins till after his
+first glass of consolation, a real remedy, the fire of which cauterized his
+bowels; but during the day his strength returned. At first he would feel a
+tickling sensation, a sort of pins-and-needles in his hands and feet; and he
+would joke, relating that someone was having a lark with him, that he was sure
+his wife put horse-hair between the sheets. Then his legs would become heavy,
+the tickling sensation would end by turning into the most abominable cramps,
+which gripped his flesh as though in a vise. That though did not amuse him so
+much. He no longer laughed; he stopped suddenly on the pavement in a bewildered
+way with a ringing in his ears and his eyes blinded with sparks. Everything
+appeared to him to be yellow; the houses danced and he reeled about for three
+seconds with the fear of suddenly finding himself sprawling on the ground. At
+other times, while the sun was shining full on his back, he would shiver as
+though iced water had been poured down his shoulders. What bothered him the
+most was a slight trembling of both his hands; the right hand especially must
+have been guilty of some crime, it suffered from so many nightmares. <i>Mon
+Dieu!</i> was he then no longer a man? He was becoming an old woman! He
+furiously strained his muscles, he seized hold of his glass and bet that he
+would hold it perfectly steady as with a hand of marble; but in spite of his
+efforts the glass danced about, jumped to the right, jumped to the left with a
+hurried and regular trembling movement. Then in a fury he emptied it into his
+gullet, yelling that he would require dozens like it, and afterwards he
+undertook to carry a cask without so much as moving a finger. Gervaise, on the
+other hand, told him to give up drink if he wished to cease trembling, and he
+laughed at her, emptying quarts until he experienced the sensation again,
+flying into a rage and accusing the passing omnibuses of shaking up his liquor.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+In the month of March Coupeau returned home one evening soaked through. He had
+come with My-Boots from Montrouge, where they had stuffed themselves full of
+eel soup, and he had received the full force of the shower all the way from the
+Barriere des Fourneaux to the Barriere Poissonniere, a good distance. During
+the night he was seized with a confounded fit of coughing. He was very flushed,
+suffering from a violent fever and panting like a broken bellows. When the
+Boches&rsquo; doctor saw him in the morning and listened against his back he
+shook his head, and drew Gervaise aside to advise her to have her husband taken
+to the hospital. Coupeau was suffering from pneumonia.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Gervaise did not worry herself, you may be sure. At one time she would have
+been chopped into pieces before trusting her old man to the saw-bones. After
+the accident in the Rue de la Nation she had spent their savings in nursing
+him. But those beautiful sentiments don&rsquo;t last when men take to wallowing
+in the mire. No, no; she did not intend to make a fuss like that again. They
+might take him and never bring him back; she would thank them heartily. Yet,
+when the litter arrived and Coupeau was put into it like an article of
+furniture, she became all pale and bit her lips; and if she grumbled and still
+said it was a good job, her heart was no longer in her words. Had she but ten
+francs in her drawer she would not have let him go.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+She accompanied him to the Lariboisiere Hospital, saw the nurses put him to bed
+at the end of a long hall, where the patients in a row, looking like corpses,
+raised themselves up and followed with their eyes the comrade who had just been
+brought in. It was a veritable death chamber. There was a suffocating, feverish
+odor and a chorus of coughing. The long hall gave the impression of a small
+cemetery with its double row of white beds looking like an aisle of marble
+tombs. When Coupeau remained motionless on his pillow, Gervaise left, having
+nothing to say, nor anything in her pocket that could comfort him.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Outside, she turned to look up at the monumental structure of the hospital and
+recalled the days when Coupeau was working there, putting on the zinc roof,
+perched up high and singing in the sun. He wasn&rsquo;t drinking in those days.
+She used to watch for him from her window in the Hotel Boncoeur and they would
+both wave their handkerchiefs in greeting. Now, instead of being on the roof
+like a cheerful sparrow, he was down below. He had built his own place in the
+hospital where he had come to die. <i>Mon Dieu!</i> It all seemed so far way
+now, that time of young love.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+On the day after the morrow, when Gervaise called to obtain news of him, she
+found the bed empty. A Sister of Charity told her that they had been obliged to
+remove her husband to the Asylum of Sainte-Anne, because the day before he had
+suddenly gone wild. Oh! a total leave-taking of his senses; attempts to crack
+his skull against the wall; howls which prevented the other patients from
+sleeping. It all came from drink, it seemed. Gervaise went home very upset.
+Well, her husband had gone crazy. What would it be like if he came home? Nana
+insisted that they should leave him in the hospital because he might end by
+killing both of them.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Gervaise was not able to go to Sainte-Anne until Sunday. It was a tremendous
+journey. Fortunately, the omnibus from the Boulevard Rochechouart to La
+Glaciere passed close to the asylum. She went down the Rue de la Sante, buying
+two oranges on her way, so as not to arrive empty-handed. It was another
+monumental building, with grey courtyards, interminable corridors and a smell
+of rank medicaments, which did not exactly inspire liveliness. But when they
+had admitted her into a cell she was quite surprised to see Coupeau almost
+jolly. He was just then seated on the throne, a spotlessly clean wooden case,
+and they both laughed at her finding him in this position. Well, one knows what
+an invalid is. He squatted there like a pope with his cheek of earlier days.
+Oh! he was better, as he could do this.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;And the pneumonia?&rdquo; inquired the laundress.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Done for!&rdquo; replied he. &ldquo;They cured it in no time. I still
+cough a little, but that&rsquo;s all that is left of it.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Then at the moment of leaving the throne to get back into his bed, he joked
+once more. &ldquo;It&rsquo;s lucky you have a strong nose and are not
+bothered.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+They laughed louder than ever. At heart they felt joyful. It was by way of
+showing their contentment without a host of phrases that they thus joked
+together. One must have had to do with patients to know the pleasure one feels
+at seeing all their functions at work again.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+When he was back in bed she gave him the two oranges and this filled him with
+emotion. He was becoming quite nice again ever since he had had nothing but
+tisane to drink. She ended by venturing to speak to him about his violent
+attack, surprised at hearing him reason like in the good old times.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Ah, yes,&rdquo; said he, joking at his own expense; &ldquo;I talked a
+precious lot of nonsense! Just fancy, I saw rats and ran about on all fours to
+put a grain of salt under their tails. And you, you called to me, men were
+trying to kill you. In short, all sorts of stupid things, ghosts in broad
+daylight. Oh! I remember it well, my noodle&rsquo;s still solid. Now it&rsquo;s
+over, I dream a bit when I&rsquo;m asleep. I have nightmares, but everyone has
+nightmares.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Gervaise remained with him until the evening. When the house surgeon came, at
+the six o&rsquo;clock inspection, he made him spread his hands; they hardly
+trembled at all, scarcely a quiver at the tips of the fingers. However, as
+night approached, Coupeau was little by little seized with uneasiness. He twice
+sat up in bed looking on the ground and in the dark corners of the room.
+Suddenly he thrust out an arm and appeared to crush some vermin against the
+wall.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;What is it?&rdquo; asked Gervaise, frightened.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;The rats! The rats!&rdquo; murmured he.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Then, after a pause, gliding into sleep, he tossed about, uttering disconnected
+phrases.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;<i>Mon Dieu!</i> they&rsquo;re tearing my skin!&mdash;Oh! the filthy
+beasts!&mdash;Keep steady! Hold your skirts right round you! beware of the
+dirty bloke behind you!&mdash;<i>Mon Dieu!</i> she&rsquo;s down and the
+scoundrels laugh!&mdash;Scoundrels! Blackguards! Brigands!&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+He dealt blows into space, caught hold of his blanket and rolled it into a
+bundle against his chest, as though to protect the latter from the violence of
+the bearded men whom he beheld. Then, an attendant having hastened to the spot,
+Gervaise withdrew, quite frozen by the scene.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+But when she returned a few days later, she found Coupeau completely cured.
+Even the nightmares had left him; he could sleep his ten hours right off as
+peacefully as a child and without stirring a limb. So his wife was allowed to
+take him away. The house surgeon gave him the usual good advice on leaving and
+advised him to follow it. If he recommenced drinking, he would again collapse
+and would end by dying. Yes, it solely depended upon himself. He had seen how
+jolly and healthy one could become when one did not get drunk. Well, he must
+continue at home the sensible life he had led at Sainte-Anne, fancy himself
+under lock and key and that dram-shops no longer existed.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;The gentleman&rsquo;s right,&rdquo; said Gervaise in the omnibus which
+was taking them back to the Rue de la Goutte-d&rsquo;Or.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Of course he&rsquo;s right,&rdquo; replied Coupeau.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Then, after thinking a minute, he resumed:
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Oh! you know, a little glass now and again can&rsquo;t kill a man; it
+helps the digestion.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+And that very evening he swallowed a glass of bad spirit, just to keep his
+stomach in order. For eight days he was pretty reasonable. He was a great
+coward at heart; he had no desire to end his days in the Bicetre mad-house. But
+his passion got the better of him; the first little glass led him, in spite of
+himself, to a second, to a third and to a fourth, and at the end of a
+fortnight, he had got back to his old ration, a pint of vitriol a day.
+Gervaise, exasperated, could have beaten him. To think that she had been stupid
+enough to dream once more of leading a worthy life, just because she had seen
+him at the asylum in full possession of his good sense! Another joyful hour had
+flown, the last one no doubt! Oh! now, as nothing could reclaim him, not even
+the fear of his near death, she swore she would no longer put herself out; the
+home might be all at sixes and sevens, she did not care any longer; and she
+talked also of leaving him.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Then hell upon earth recommenced, a life sinking deeper into the mire, without
+a glimmer of hope for something better to follow. Nana, whenever her father
+clouted her, furiously asked why the brute was not at the hospital. She was
+awaiting the time when she would be earning money, she would say, to treat him
+to brandy and make him croak quicker. Gervaise, on her side, flew into a
+passion one day that Coupeau was regretting their marriage. Ah! she had brought
+him her saucy children; ah! she had got herself picked up from the pavement,
+wheedling him with rosy dreams! <i>Mon Dieu!</i> he had a rare cheek! So many
+words, so many lies. She hadn&rsquo;t wished to have anything to do with him,
+that was the truth. He had dragged himself at her feet to make her give way,
+whilst she was advising him to think well what he was about. And if it was all
+to come over again, he would hear how she would just say &ldquo;no!&rdquo; She
+would sooner have an arm cut off. Yes, she&rsquo;d had a lover before him; but
+a woman who has had a lover, and who is a worker, is worth more than a sluggard
+of a man who sullies his honor and that of his family in all the dram-shops.
+That day, for the first time, the Coupeaus went in for a general brawl, and
+they whacked each other so hard that an old umbrella and the broom were broken.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Gervaise kept her word. She sank lower and lower; she missed going to her work
+oftener, spent whole days in gossiping, and became as soft as a rag whenever
+she had a task to perform. If a thing fell from her hands, it might remain on
+the floor; it was certainly not she who would have stooped to pick it up. She
+took her ease about everything, and never handled a broom except when the
+accumulation of filth almost brought her to the ground. The Lorilleuxs now made
+a point of holding something to their noses whenever they passed her room; the
+stench was poisonous, said they. Those hypocrites slyly lived at the end of the
+passage, out of the way of all these miseries which filled the corner of the
+house with whimpering, locking themselves in so as not to have to lend twenty
+sou pieces. Oh! kind-hearted folks, neighbors awfully obliging! Yes, you may be
+sure! One had only to knock and ask for a light or a pinch of salt or a jug of
+water, one was certain of getting the door banged in one&rsquo;s face. With all
+that they had vipers&rsquo; tongues. They protested everywhere that they never
+occupied themselves with other people. This was true whenever it was a question
+of assisting a neighbor; but they did so from morning to night, directly they
+had a chance of pulling any one to pieces. With the door bolted and a rug hung
+up to cover the chinks and the key-hole, they would treat themselves to a
+spiteful gossip without leaving their gold wire for a moment.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The fall of Clump-clump in particular kept them purring like pet cats.
+Completely ruined! Not a sou remaining. They smiled gleefully at the small
+piece of bread she would bring back when she went shopping and kept count of
+the days when she had nothing at all to eat. And the clothes she wore now.
+Disgusting rags! That&rsquo;s what happened when one tried to live high.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Gervaise, who had an idea of the way in which they spoke of her, would take her
+shoes off, and place her ear against their door; but the rug over the door
+prevented her from hearing much. She was heartily sick of them; she continued
+to speak to them, to avoid remarks, though expecting nothing but unpleasantness
+from such nasty persons, but no longer having strength even to give them as
+much as they gave her, passed the insults off as a lot of nonsense. And besides
+she only wanted her own pleasure, to sit in a heap twirling her thumbs, and
+only moving when it was a question of amusing herself, nothing more.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+One Saturday Coupeau had promised to take her to the circus. It was well worth
+while disturbing oneself to see ladies galloping along on horses and jumping
+through paper hoops. Coupeau had just finished a fortnight&rsquo;s work, he
+could well spare a couple of francs; and they had also arranged to dine out,
+just the two of them, Nana having to work very late that evening at her
+employer&rsquo;s because of some pressing order. But at seven o&rsquo;clock
+there was no Coupeau; at eight o&rsquo;clock it was still the same. Gervaise
+was furious. Her drunkard was certainly squandering his earnings with his
+comrades at the dram-shops of the neighborhood. She had washed a cap and had
+been slaving since the morning over the holes of an old dress, wishing to look
+decent. At last, towards nine o&rsquo;clock, her stomach empty, her face purple
+with rage, she decided to go down and look for Coupeau.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Is it your husband you want?&rdquo; called Madame Boche, on catching
+sight of Gervaise looking very glum. &ldquo;He&rsquo;s at Pere Colombe&rsquo;s.
+Boche has just been having some cherry brandy with him.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Gervaise uttered her thanks and stalked stiffly along the pavement with the
+determination of flying at Coupeau&rsquo;s eyes. A fine rain was falling which
+made the walk more unpleasant still. But when she reached l&rsquo;Assommoir,
+the fear of receiving the drubbing herself if she badgered her old man suddenly
+calmed her and made her prudent. The shop was ablaze with the lighted gas, the
+flames of which were as brilliant as suns, and the bottles and jars illuminated
+the walls with their colored glass. She stood there an instant stretching her
+neck, her eyes close to the window, looking between two bottle placed there for
+show, watching Coupeau who was right at the back; he was sitting with some
+comrades at a little zinc table, all looking vague and blue in the tobacco
+smoke; and, as one could not hear them yelling, it created a funny effect to
+see them gesticulating with their chins thrust forward and their eyes starting
+out of their heads. Good heavens! Was it really possible that men could leave
+their wives and their homes to shut themselves up thus in a hole where they
+were choking?
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The rain trickled down her neck; she drew herself up and went off to the
+exterior Boulevard, wrapped in thought and not daring to enter. Ah! well
+Coupeau would have welcomed her in a pleasant way, he who objected to be spied
+upon! Besides, it really scarcely seemed to her the proper place for a
+respectable woman. Twice she went back and stood before the shop window, her
+eyes again riveted to the glass, annoyed at still beholding those confounded
+drunkards out of the rain and yelling and drinking. The light of
+l&rsquo;Assommoir was reflected in the puddles on the pavement, which simmered
+with little bubbles caused by the downpour. At length she thought she was too
+foolish, and pushing open the door, she walked straight up to the table where
+Coupeau was sitting. After all it was her husband she came for, was it not? And
+she was authorized in doing so, because he had promised to take her to the
+circus that evening. So much the worse! She had no desire to melt like a cake
+of soap out on the pavement.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Hullo! It&rsquo;s you, old woman!&rdquo; exclaimed the zinc-worker, half
+choking with a chuckle. &ldquo;Ah! that&rsquo;s a good joke. Isn&rsquo;t it a
+good joke now?&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+All the company laughed. Gervaise remained standing, feeling rather bewildered.
+Coupeau appeared to her to be in a pleasant humor, so she ventured to say:
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;You remember, we&rsquo;ve somewhere to go. We must hurry. We shall still
+be in time to see something.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;I can&rsquo;t get up, I&rsquo;m glued, oh! without joking,&rdquo;
+resumed Coupeau, who continued laughing. &ldquo;Try, just to satisfy yourself;
+pull my arm with all your strength; try it! harder than that, tug away, up with
+it! You see it&rsquo;s that louse Pere Colombe who&rsquo;s screwed me to his
+seat.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Gervaise had humored him at this game, and when she let go of his arm, the
+comrades thought the joke so good that they tumbled up against one another,
+braying and rubbing their shoulders like donkeys being groomed. The
+zinc-worker&rsquo;s mouth was so wide with laughter that you could see right
+down his throat.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;You great noodle!&rdquo; said he at length, &ldquo;you can surely sit
+down a minute. You&rsquo;re better here than splashing about outside. Well,
+yes; I didn&rsquo;t come home as I promised, I had business to attend to.
+Though you may pull a long face, it won&rsquo;t alter matters. Make room, you
+others.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;If madame would accept my knees she would find them softer than the
+seat,&rdquo; gallantly said My-Boots.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Gervaise, not wishing to attract attention, took a chair and sat down at a
+short distance from the table. She looked at what the men were drinking, some
+rotgut brandy which shone like gold in the glasses; a little of it had dropped
+upon the table and Salted-Mouth, otherwise Drink-without-Thirst, dipped his
+finger in it whilst conversing and wrote a woman&rsquo;s
+name&mdash;&ldquo;Eulalie&rdquo;&mdash;in big letters. She noticed that
+Bibi-the-Smoker looked shockingly jaded and thinner than a hundred-weight of
+nails. My-Boot&rsquo;s nose was in full bloom, a regular purple Burgundy
+dahlia. They were all quite dirty, their beards stiff, their smocks ragged and
+stained, their hands grimy with dirt. Yet they were still quite polite.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Gervaise noticed a couple of men at the bar. They were so drunk that they were
+spilling the drink down their chins when they thought they were wetting their
+whistles. Fat Pere Colombe was calmly serving round after round.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The atmosphere was very warm, the smoke from the pipes ascended in the blinding
+glare of the gas, amidst which it rolled about like dust, drowning the
+customers in a gradually thickening mist; and from this cloud there issued a
+deafening and confused uproar, cracked voices, clinking of glasses, oaths and
+blows sounding like detonations. So Gervaise pulled a very wry face, for such a
+sight is not funny for a woman, especially when she is not used to it; she was
+stifling, with a smarting sensation in her eyes, and her head already feeling
+heavy from the alcoholic fumes exhaled by the whole place. Then she suddenly
+experienced the sensation of something more unpleasant still behind her back.
+She turned round and beheld the still, the machine which manufactured
+drunkards, working away beneath the glass roof of the narrow courtyard with the
+profound trepidation of its hellish cookery. Of an evening, the copper parts
+looked more mournful than ever, lit up only on their rounded surface with one
+big red glint; and the shadow of the apparatus on the wall at the back formed
+most abominable figures, bodies with tails, monsters opening their jaws as
+though to swallow everyone up.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Listen, mother Talk-too-much, don&rsquo;t make any of your
+grimaces!&rdquo; cried Coupeau. &ldquo;To blazes, you know, with all wet
+blankets! What&rsquo;ll you drink?&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Nothing, of course,&rdquo; replied the laundress. &ldquo;I haven&rsquo;t
+dined yet.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Well! that&rsquo;s all the more reason for having a glass; a drop of
+something sustains one.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+But, as she still retained her glum expression, My-Boots again did the gallant.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Madame probably likes sweet things,&rdquo; murmured he.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;I like men who don&rsquo;t get drunk,&rdquo; retorted she, getting
+angry. &ldquo;Yes, I like a fellow who brings home his earnings, and who keeps
+his word when he makes a promise.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Ah! so that&rsquo;s what upsets you?&rdquo; said the zinc-worker,
+without ceasing to chuckle. &ldquo;Yes, you want your share. Then, big goose,
+why do you refuse a drink? Take it, it&rsquo;s so much to the good.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+She looked at him fixedly, in a grave manner, a wrinkle marking her forehead
+with a black line. And she slowly replied:
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Why, you&rsquo;re right, it&rsquo;s a good idea. That way, we can drink
+up the coin together.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Bibi-the-Smoker rose from his seat to fetch her a glass of anisette. She drew
+her chair up to the table. Whilst she was sipping her anisette, a recollection
+suddenly flashed across her mind, she remembered the plum she had taken with
+Coupeau, near the door, in the old days, when he was courting her. At that
+time, she used to leave the juice of fruits preserved in brandy. And now, here
+was she going back to liqueurs. Oh! she knew herself well, she had not two
+thimblefuls of will. One would only have had to have given her a walloping
+across the back to have made her regularly wallow in drink. The anisette even
+seemed to be very good, perhaps rather too sweet and slightly sickening. She
+went on sipping as she listened to Salted-Mouth, otherwise
+Drink-without-Thirst, tell of his affair with fat Eulalie, a fish peddler and
+very shrewd at locating him. Even if his comrades tried to hide him, she could
+usually sniff him out when he was late. Just the night before she had slapped
+his face with a flounder to teach him not to neglect going to work.
+Bibi-the-Smoker and My-Boots nearly split their sides laughing. They slapped
+Gervaise on the shoulder and she began to laugh also, finding it amusing in
+spite of herself. They then advised her to follow Eulalie&rsquo;s example and
+bring an iron with her so as to press Coupeau&rsquo;s ears on the counters of
+the wineshops.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Ah, well, no thanks,&rdquo; cried Coupeau as he turned upside down the
+glass his wife had emptied. &ldquo;You pump it out pretty well. Just look, you
+fellows, she doesn&rsquo;t take long over it.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Will madame take another?&rdquo; asked Salted-Mouth, otherwise
+Drink-without-Thirst.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+No, she had had enough. Yet she hesitated. The anisette had slightly bothered
+her stomach. She should have taken straight brandy to settle her digestion.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+She cast side glances at the drunkard manufacturing machine behind her. That
+confounded pot, as round as the stomach of a tinker&rsquo;s fat wife, with its
+nose that was so long and twisted, sent a shiver down her back, a fear mingled
+with a desire. Yes, one might have thought it the metal pluck of some big
+wicked woman, of some witch who was discharging drop by drop the fire of her
+entrails. A fine source of poison, an operation which should have been hidden
+away in a cellar, it was so brazen and abominable! But all the same she would
+have liked to have poked her nose inside it, to have sniffed the odor, have
+tasted the filth, though the skin might have peeled off her burnt tongue like
+the rind off an orange.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;What&rsquo;s that you&rsquo;re drinking?&rdquo; asked she slyly of the
+men, her eyes lighted up by the beautiful golden color of their glasses.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;That, old woman,&rdquo; answered Coupeau, &ldquo;is Pere Colombe&rsquo;s
+camphor. Don&rsquo;t be silly now and we&rsquo;ll give you a taste.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+And when they had brought her a glass of the vitriol, the rotgut, and her jaws
+had contracted at the first mouthful, the zinc-worker resumed, slapping his
+thighs:
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Ha! It tickles your gullet! Drink it off at one go. Each glassful cheats
+the doctor of six francs.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+At the second glass Gervaise no longer felt the hunger which had been
+tormenting her. Now she had made it up with Coupeau, she no longer felt angry
+with him for not having kept his word. They would go to the circus some other
+day; it was not so funny to see jugglers galloping about on horses. There was
+no rain inside Pere Colombe&rsquo;s and if the money went in brandy, one at
+least had it in one&rsquo;s body; one drank it bright and shining like
+beautiful liquid gold. Ah! she was ready to send the whole world to blazes!
+Life was not so pleasant after all, besides it seemed some consolation to her
+to have her share in squandering the cash. As she was comfortable, why should
+she not remain? One might have a discharge of artillery; she did not care to
+budge once she had settled in a heap. She nursed herself in a pleasant warmth,
+her bodice sticking to her back, overcome by a feeling of comfort which
+benumbed her limbs. She laughed all to herself, her elbows on the table, a
+vacant look in her eyes, highly amused by two customers, a fat heavy fellow and
+a tiny shrimp, seated at a neighboring table, and kissing each other lovingly.
+Yes, she laughed at the things to see in l&rsquo;Assommoir, at Pere
+Colombe&rsquo;s full moon face, a regular bladder of lard, at the customers
+smoking their short clay pipes, yelling and spitting, and at the big flames of
+gas which lighted up the looking-glasses and the bottles of liqueurs. The smell
+no longer bothered her, on the contrary it tickled her nose, and she thought it
+very pleasant. Her eyes slightly closed, whilst she breathed very slowly,
+without the least feeling of suffocation, tasting the enjoyment of the gentle
+slumber which was overcoming her. Then, after her third glass, she let her chin
+fall on her hands; she now only saw Coupeau and his comrades, and she remained
+nose to nose with them, quite close, her cheeks warmed by their breath, looking
+at their dirty beards as though she had been counting the hairs. My-Boots
+drooled, his pipe between his teeth, with the dumb and grave air of a dozing
+ox. Bibi-the-Smoker was telling a story&mdash;the manner in which he emptied a
+bottle at a draught, giving it such a kiss that one instantly saw its bottom.
+Meanwhile Salted-Mouth, otherwise Drink-without-Thirst, had gone and fetched
+the wheel of fortune from the counter, and was playing with Coupeau for drinks.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Two hundred! You&rsquo;re lucky; you get high numbers every time!&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The needle of the wheel grated, and the figure of Fortune, a big red woman
+placed under glass, turned round and round until it looked like a mere spot in
+the centre, similar to a wine stain.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Three hundred and fifty! You must have been inside it, you confounded
+lascar! Ah! I shan&rsquo;t play any more!&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Gervaise amused herself with the wheel of fortune. She was feeling awfully
+thirsty, and calling My-Boots &ldquo;my child.&rdquo; Behind her the machine
+for manufacturing drunkards continued working, with its murmur of an
+underground stream; and she despaired of ever stopping it, of exhausting it,
+filled with a sullen anger against it, feeling a longing to spring upon the big
+still as upon some animal, to kick it with her heels and stave in its belly.
+Then everything began to seem all mixed up. The machine seemed to be moving
+itself and she thought she was being grabbed by its copper claws, and that the
+underground stream was now flowing over her body.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Then the room danced round, the gas-jets seemed to shoot like stars. Gervaise
+was drunk. She heard a furious wrangle between Salted-Mouth, otherwise
+Drink-without-Thirst, and that rascal Pere Colombe. There was a thief of a
+landlord who wanted one to pay for what one had not had! Yet one was not at a
+gangster&rsquo;s hang-out. Suddenly there was a scuffling, yells were heard and
+tables were upset. It was Pere Colombe who was turning the party out without
+the least hesitation, and in the twinkling of an eye. On the other side of the
+door they blackguarded him and called him a scoundrel. It still rained and blew
+icy cold. Gervaise lost Coupeau, found him and then lost him again. She wished
+to go home; she felt the shops to find her way. This sudden darkness surprised
+her immensely. At the corner of the Rue des Poissonniers, she sat down in the
+gutter thinking she was at the wash-house. The water which flowed along caused
+her head to swim, and made her very ill. At length she arrived, she passed
+stiffly before the concierge&rsquo;s room where she perfectly recognized the
+Lorilleuxs and the Poissons seated at the table having dinner, and who made
+grimaces of disgust on beholding her in that sorry state.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+She never remembered how she had got up all those flights of stairs. Just as
+she was turning into the passage at the top, little Lalie, who heard her
+footsteps, hastened to meet her, opening her arms caressingly, and saying, with
+a smile:
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Madame Gervaise, papa has not returned. Just come and see my little
+children sleeping. Oh! they look so pretty!&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+But on beholding the laundress&rsquo; besotted face, she tremblingly drew back.
+She was acquainted with that brandy-laden breath, those pale eyes, that
+convulsed mouth. Then Gervaise stumbled past without uttering a word, whilst
+the child, standing on the threshold of her room, followed her with her dark
+eyes, grave and speechless.
+</p>
+
+</div><!--end chapter-->
+
+<div class="chapter">
+
+<h2><a name="link2HCH0011" id="link2HCH0011"></a>
+CHAPTER XI</h2>
+
+<p>
+Nana was growing up and becoming wayward. At fifteen years old she had expanded
+like a calf, white-skinned and very fat; so plump, indeed, you might have
+called her a pincushion. Yes, such she was&mdash;fifteen years old, full of
+figure and no stays. A saucy magpie face, dipped in milk, a skin as soft as a
+peach skin, a funny nose, pink lips and eyes sparkling like tapers, which men
+would have liked to light their pipes at. Her pile of fair hair, the color of
+fresh oats, seemed to have scattered gold dust over her temples, freckle-like
+as it were, giving her brow a sunny crown. Ah! a pretty doll, as the Lorilleuxs
+say, a dirty nose that needed wiping, with fat shoulders, which were as fully
+rounded and as powerful as those of a full-grown woman. Nana no longer needed
+to stuff wads of paper into her bodice, her breasts were grown. She wished they
+were larger though, and dreamed of having breasts like a wet-nurse.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+What made her particularly tempting was a nasty habit she had of protruding the
+tip of her tongue between her white teeth. No doubt on seeing herself in the
+looking-glasses she had thought she was pretty like this; and so, all day long,
+she poked her tongue out of her mouth, in view of improving her appearance.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Hide your lying tongue!&rdquo; cried her mother.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Coupeau would often get involved, pounding his fist, swearing and shouting:
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Make haste and draw that red rag inside again!&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Nana showed herself very coquettish. She did not always wash her feet, but she
+bought such tight boots that she suffered martyrdom in St. Crispin&rsquo;s
+prison; and if folks questioned her when she turned purple with pain, she
+answered that she had the stomach ache, so as to avoid confessing her coquetry.
+When bread was lacking at home it was difficult for her to trick herself out.
+But she accomplished miracles, brought ribbons back from the workshop and
+concocted toilettes&mdash;dirty dresses set off with bows and puffs. The summer
+was the season of her greatest triumphs. With a cambric dress which had cost
+her six francs she filled the whole neighborhood of the Goutte-d&rsquo;Or with
+her fair beauty. Yes, she was known from the outer Boulevards to the
+Fortifications, and from the Chaussee de Clignancourt to the Grand Rue of La
+Chapelle. Folks called her &ldquo;chickie,&rdquo; for she was really as tender
+and as fresh-looking as a chicken.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+There was one dress which suited her perfectly, a white one with pink dots. It
+was very simple and without a frill. The skirt was rather short and revealed
+her ankles. The sleeves were deeply slashed and loose, showing her arms to the
+elbow. She pinned the neck back into a wide V as soon as she reached a dark
+corner of the staircase to avoid getting her ears boxed by her father for
+exposing the snowy whiteness of her throat and the golden shadow between her
+breasts. She also tied a pink ribbon round her blond hair.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Sundays she spent the entire day out with the crowds and loved it when the men
+eyed her hungrily as they passed. She waited all week long for these glances.
+She would get up early to dress herself and spend hours before the fragment of
+mirror that was hung over the bureau. Her mother would scold her because the
+entire building could see her through the window in her chemise as she mended
+her dress.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Ah! she looked cute like that said father Coupeau, sneering and jeering at her,
+a real Magdalene in despair! She might have turned &ldquo;savage woman&rdquo;
+at a fair, and have shown herself for a penny. Hide your meat, he used to say,
+and let me eat my bread! In fact, she was adorable, white and dainty under her
+overhanging golden fleece, losing temper to the point that her skin turned
+pink, not daring to answer her father, but cutting her thread with her teeth
+with a hasty, furious jerk, which shook her plump but youthful form.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Then immediately after breakfast she tripped down the stairs into the
+courtyard. The entire tenement seemed to be resting sleepily in the
+peacefulness of a Sunday afternoon. The workshops on the ground floor were
+closed. Gaping windows revealed tables in some apartments that were already set
+for dinner, awaiting families out working up an appetite by strolling along the
+fortifications.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Then, in the midst of the empty, echoing courtyard, Nana, Pauline and other big
+girls engaged in games of battledore and shuttlecock. They had grown up
+together and were now becoming queens of their building. Whenever a man crossed
+the court, flutelike laugher would arise, and then starched skirts would rustle
+like the passing of a gust of wind.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The games were only an excuse for them to make their escape. Suddenly stillness
+fell upon the tenement. The girls had glided out into the street and made for
+the outer Boulevards. Then, linked arm-in-arm across the full breadth of the
+pavement, they went off, the whole six of them, clad in light colors, with
+ribbons tied around their bare heads. With bright eyes darting stealthy glances
+through their partially closed eyelids, they took note of everything, and
+constantly threw back their necks to laugh, displaying the fleshy part of their
+chins. They would swing their hips, or group together tightly, or flaunt along
+with awkward grace, all for the purpose of calling attention to the fact that
+their forms were filling out.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Nana was in the centre with her pink dress all aglow in the sunlight. She gave
+her arm to Pauline, whose costume, yellow flowers on a white ground, glared in
+similar fashion, dotted as it were with little flames. As they were the tallest
+of the band, the most woman-like and most unblushing, they led the troop and
+drew themselves up with breasts well forward whenever they detected glances or
+heard complimentary remarks. The others extended right and left, puffing
+themselves out in order to attract attention. Nana and Pauline resorted to the
+complicated devices of experienced coquettes. If they ran till they were out of
+breath, it was in view of showing their white stockings and making the ribbons
+of their chignons wave in the breeze. When they stopped, pretending complete
+breathlessness, you would certainly spot someone they knew quite near, one of
+the young fellows of the neighborhood. This would make them dawdle along
+languidly, whispering and laughing among themselves, but keeping a sharp watch
+through their downcast eyelids.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+They went on these strolls of a Sunday mainly for the sake of these chance
+meetings. Tall lads, wearing their Sunday best, would stop them, joking and
+trying to catch them round their waists. Pauline was forever running into one
+of Madame Gaudron&rsquo;s sons, a seventeen-year-old carpenter, who would treat
+her to fried potatoes. Nana could spot Victor Fauconnier, the laundress&rsquo;s
+son and they would exchange kisses in dark corners. It never went farther than
+that, but they told each other some tall tales.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Then when the sun set, the great delight of these young hussies was to stop and
+look at the mountebanks. Conjurors and strong men turned up and spread
+threadbare carpets on the soil of the avenue. Loungers collected and a circle
+formed whilst the mountebank in the centre tried his muscles under his faded
+tights. Nana and Pauline would stand for hours in the thickest part of the
+crowd. Their pretty, fresh frocks would get crushed between great-coats and
+dirty work smocks. In this atmosphere of wine and sweat they would laugh gaily,
+finding amusement in everything, blooming naturally like roses growing out of a
+dunghill. The only thing that vexed them was to meet their fathers, especially
+when the latter had been drinking. So they watched and warned one another.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Look, Nana,&rdquo; Pauline would suddenly cry out, &ldquo;here comes
+father Coupeau!&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Well, he&rsquo;s drunk too. Oh, dear,&rdquo; said Nana, greatly
+bothered. &ldquo;I&rsquo;m going to beat it, you know. I don&rsquo;t want him
+to give me a wallop. Hullo! How he stumbles! Good Lord, if he could only break
+his neck!&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+At other times, when Coupeau came straight up to her without giving her time to
+run off, she crouched down, made herself small and muttered: &ldquo;Just you
+hide me, you others. He&rsquo;s looking for me, and he promised he&rsquo;d
+knock my head off if he caught me hanging about.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Then when the drunkard had passed them she drew herself up again, and all the
+others followed her with bursts of laughter. He&rsquo;ll find her&mdash;he
+will&mdash;he won&rsquo;t! It was a true game of hide and seek. One day,
+however, Boche had come after Pauline and caught her by both ears, and Coupeau
+had driven Nana home with kicks.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Nana was now a flower-maker and earned forty sous a day at Titreville&rsquo;s
+place in the Rue du Caire, where she had served as apprentice. The Coupeaus had
+kept her there so that she might remain under the eye of Madame Lerat, who had
+been forewoman in the workroom for ten years. Of a morning, when her mother
+looked at the cuckoo clock, off she went by herself, looking very pretty with
+her shoulders tightly confined in her old black dress, which was both too
+narrow and too short; and Madame Lerat had to note the hour of her arrival and
+tell it to Gervaise. She was allowed twenty minutes to go from the Rue de la
+Goutte-d&rsquo;Or to the Rue du Caire, and it was enough, for these young
+hussies have the legs of racehorses. Sometimes she arrived exactly on time but
+so breathless and flushed that she must have covered most of the distance at a
+run after dawdling along the way. More often she was a few minutes late. Then
+she would fawn on her aunt all day, hoping to soften her and keep her from
+telling. Madame Lerat understood what it was to be young and would lie to the
+Coupeaus, but she also lectured Nana, stressing the dangers a young girl runs
+on the streets of Paris. <i>Mon Dieu!</i> she herself was followed often
+enough!
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Oh! I watch, you needn&rsquo;t fear,&rdquo; said the widow to the
+Coupeaus. &ldquo;I will answer to you for her as I would for myself. And rather
+than let a blackguard squeeze her, why I&rsquo;d step between them.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The workroom at Titreville&rsquo;s was a large apartment on the first floor,
+with a broad work-table standing on trestles in the centre. Round the four
+walls, the plaster of which was visible in parts where the dirty yellowish-grey
+paper was torn away, there were several stands covered with old cardboard
+boxes, parcels and discarded patterns under a thick coating of dust. The gas
+had left what appeared to be like a daub of soot on the ceiling. The two
+windows opened so wide that without leaving the work-table the girls could see
+the people walking past on the pavement over the way.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Madame Lerat arrived the first, in view of setting an example. Then for a
+quarter of an hour the door swayed to and fro, and all the workgirls scrambled
+in, perspiring with tumbled hair. One July morning Nana arrived the last, as
+very often happened. &ldquo;Ah, me!&rdquo; she said, &ldquo;it won&rsquo;t be a
+pity when I have a carriage of my own.&rdquo; And without even taking off her
+hat, one which she was weary of patching up, she approached the window and
+leant out, looking to the right and the left to see what was going on in the
+street.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;What are you looking at?&rdquo; asked Madame Lerat, suspiciously.
+&ldquo;Did your father come with you?&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;No, you may be sure of that,&rdquo; answered Nana coolly.
+&ldquo;I&rsquo;m looking at nothing&mdash;I&rsquo;m seeing how hot it is.
+It&rsquo;s enough to make anyone, having to run like that.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+It was a stifling hot morning. The workgirls had drawn down the Venetian
+blinds, between which they could spy out into the street; and they had at last
+begun working on either side of the table, at the upper end of which sat Madame
+Lerat. They were eight in number, each with her pot of glue, pincers, tools and
+curling stand in front of her. On the work-table lay a mass of wire, reels,
+cotton wool, green and brown paper, leaves and petals cut out of silk, satin or
+velvet. In the centre, in the neck of a large decanter, one flower-girl had
+thrust a little penny nosegay which had been fading on her breast since the day
+before.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Oh, I have some news,&rdquo; said a pretty brunette named Leonie as she
+leaned over her cushion to crimp some rose petals. &ldquo;Poor Caroline is very
+unhappy about that fellow who used to wait for her every evening.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Ah!&rdquo; said Nana, who was cutting thin strips of green paper.
+&ldquo;A man who cheats on her every day!&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Madame Lerat had to display severity over the muffled laughter. Then Leonie
+whispered suddenly:
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Quiet. The boss!&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+It was indeed Madame Titreville who entered. The tall thin woman usually stayed
+down in the shop. The girls were quite in awe of her because she never joked
+with them. All the heads were now bent over the work in diligent silence.
+Madame Titreville slowly circled the work-table. She told one girl her work was
+sloppy and made her do the flower over. Then she stalked out as stiffly as she
+had come in.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The complaining and low laughter began again.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Really, young ladies!&rdquo; said Madame Lerat, trying to look more
+severe than ever. &ldquo;You will force me to take measures.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The workgirls paid no attention to her. They were not afraid of her. She was
+too easy-going because she enjoyed being surrounded by these young girls whose
+zest for life sparkled in their eyes. She enjoyed taking them aside to hear
+their confidences about their lovers. She even told their fortunes with cards
+whenever a corner of the work-table was free. She was only offended by coarse
+expressions. As long as you avoided those you could say what you pleased.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+To tell the truth, Nana perfected her education in nice style in the workroom!
+No doubt she was already inclined to go wrong. But this was the finishing
+stroke&mdash;associating with a lot of girls who were already worn out with
+misery and vice. They all hobnobbed and rotted together, just the story of the
+baskets of apples when there are rotten ones among them. They maintained a
+certain propriety in public, but the smut flowed freely when they got to
+whispering together in a corner.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+For inexperienced girls like Nana, there was an undesirable atmosphere around
+the workshop, an air of cheap dance halls and unorthodox evenings brought in by
+some of the girls. The laziness of mornings after a gay night, the shadows
+under the eyes, the lounging, the hoarse voices, all spread an odor of dark
+perversion over the work-table which contrasted sharply with the brilliant
+fragility of the artificial flowers. Nana eagerly drank it all in and was dizzy
+with joy when she found herself beside a girl who had been around. She always
+wanted to sit next to big Lisa, who was said to be pregnant, and she kept
+glancing curiously at her neighbor as though expecting her to swell up
+suddenly.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;It&rsquo;s hot enough to make one stifle,&rdquo; Nana said, approaching
+a window as if to draw the blind farther down; but she leant forward and again
+looked out both to the right and left.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+At the same moment Leonie, who was watching a man stationed at the foot of the
+pavement over the way, exclaimed, &ldquo;What&rsquo;s that old fellow about?
+He&rsquo;s been spying here for the last quarter of an hour.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Some tom cat,&rdquo; said Madame Lerat. &ldquo;Nana, just come and sit
+down! I told you not to stand at the window.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Nana took up the stems of some violets she was rolling, and the whole workroom
+turned its attention to the man in question. He was a well-dressed individual
+wearing a frock coat and he looked about fifty years old. He had a pale face,
+very serous and dignified in expression, framed round with a well trimmed grey
+beard. He remained for an hour in front of a herbalist&rsquo;s shop with his
+eyes fixed on the Venetian blinds of the workroom. The flower-girls indulged in
+little bursts of laughter which died away amid the noise of the street, and
+while leaning forward, to all appearance busy with their work, they glanced
+askance so as not to lose sight of the gentleman.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Ah!&rdquo; remarked Leonie, &ldquo;he wears glasses. He&rsquo;s a swell.
+He&rsquo;s waiting for Augustine, no doubt.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+But Augustine, a tall, ugly, fair-haired girl, sourly answered that she did not
+like old men; whereupon Madame Lerat, jerking her head, answered with a smile
+full of underhand meaning:
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;That is a great mistake on your part, my dear; the old ones are more
+affectionate.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+At this moment Leonie&rsquo;s neighbor, a plump little body, whispered
+something in her ear and Leonie suddenly threw herself back on her chair,
+seized with a fit of noisy laughter, wriggling, looking at the gentleman and
+then laughing all the louder. &ldquo;That&rsquo;s it. Oh! that&rsquo;s
+it,&rdquo; she stammered. &ldquo;How dirty that Sophie is!&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;What did she say? What did she say?&rdquo; asked the whole workroom,
+aglow with curiosity.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Leonie wiped the tears from her eyes without answering. When she became
+somewhat calmer, she began curling her flowers again and declared, &ldquo;It
+can&rsquo;t be repeated.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The others insisted, but she shook her head, seized again with a gust of
+gaiety. Thereupon Augustine, her left-hand neighbor, besought her to whisper it
+to her; and finally Leonie consented to do so with her lips close to
+Augustine&rsquo;s ear. Augustine threw herself back and wriggled with
+convulsive laughter in her turn. Then she repeated the phrase to a girl next to
+her, and from ear to ear it traveled round the room amid exclamations and
+stifled laughter. When they were all of them acquainted with Sophie&rsquo;s
+disgusting remark they looked at one another and burst out laughing together
+although a little flushed and confused. Madame Lerat alone was not in the
+secret and she felt extremely vexed.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;That&rsquo;s very impolite behavior on your part, young ladies,&rdquo;
+said she. &ldquo;It is not right to whisper when other people are present.
+Something indecent no doubt! Ah! that&rsquo;s becoming!&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+She did not dare go so far as to ask them to pass Sophie&rsquo;s remark on to
+her although she burned to hear it. So she kept her eyes on her work, amusing
+herself by listening to the conversation. Now no one could make even an
+innocent remark without the others twisting it around and connecting it with
+the gentleman on the sidewalk. Madame Lerat herself once sent them into
+convulsions of laughter when she said, &ldquo;Mademoiselle Lisa, my
+fire&rsquo;s gone out. Pass me yours.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Oh! Madame Lerat&rsquo;s fire&rsquo;s out!&rdquo; laughed the whole
+shop.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+They refused to listen to any explanation, but maintained they were going to
+call in the gentleman outside to rekindle Madame Lerat&rsquo;s fire.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+However, the gentleman over the way had gone off. The room grew calmer and the
+work was carried on in the sultry heat. When twelve o&rsquo;clock
+struck&mdash;meal-time&mdash;they all shook themselves. Nana, who had hastened
+to the window again, volunteered to do the errands if they liked. And Leonie
+ordered two sous worth of shrimps, Augustine a screw of fried potatoes, Lisa a
+bunch of radishes, Sophie a sausage. Then as Nana was doing down the stairs,
+Madame Lerat, who found her partiality for the window that morning rather
+curious, overtook her with her long legs.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Wait a bit,&rdquo; said she. &ldquo;I&rsquo;ll go with you. I want to
+buy something too.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+But in the passage below she perceived the gentleman, stuck there like a candle
+and exchanging glances with Nana. The girl flushed very red, whereupon her aunt
+at once caught her by the arm and made her trot over the pavement, whilst the
+individual followed behind. Ah! so the tom cat had come for Nana. Well, that
+<i>was</i> nice! At fifteen years and a half to have men trailing after her!
+Then Madame Lerat hastily began to question her. <i>Mon Dieu!</i> Nana
+didn&rsquo;t know; he had only been following her for five days, but she could
+not poke her nose out of doors without stumbling on men. She believed he was in
+business; yes, a manufacturer of bone buttons. Madame Lerat was greatly
+impressed. She turned round and glanced at the gentleman out of the corner of
+her eye.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;One can see he&rsquo;s got a deep purse,&rdquo; she muttered.
+&ldquo;Listen to me, kitten; you must tell me everything. You have nothing more
+to fear now.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Whilst speaking they hastened from shop to shop&mdash;to the pork
+butcher&rsquo;s, the fruiterer&rsquo;s, the cook-shop; and the errands in
+greasy paper were piled up in their hands. Still they remained amiable,
+flouncing along and casting bright glances behind them with gusts of gay
+laughter. Madame Lerat herself was acting the young girl, on account of the
+button manufacturer who was still following them.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;He is very distinguished looking,&rdquo; she declared as they returned
+into the passage. &ldquo;If he only has honorable views&mdash;&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Then, as they were going up the stairs she suddenly seemed to remember
+something. &ldquo;By the way, tell me what the girls were whispering to each
+other&mdash;you know, what Sophie said?&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Nana did not make any ceremony. Only she caught Madame Lerat by the hand, and
+caused her to descend a couple of steps, for, really, it wouldn&rsquo;t do to
+say it aloud, not even on the stairs. When she whispered it to her, it was so
+obscene that Madame Lerat could only shake her head, opening her eyes wide, and
+pursing her lips. Well, at least her curiosity wasn&rsquo;t troubling her any
+longer.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+From that day forth Madame Lerat regaled herself with her niece&rsquo;s first
+love adventure. She no longer left her, but accompanied her morning and
+evening, bringing her responsibility well to the fore. This somewhat annoyed
+Nana, but all the same she expanded with pride at seeing herself guarded like a
+treasure; and the talk she and her aunt indulged in in the street with the
+button manufacturer behind them flattered her, and rather quickened her desire
+for new flirtations. Oh! her aunt understood the feelings of the heart; she
+even compassionated the button manufacturer, this elderly gentleman, who looked
+so respectable, for, after all, sentimental feelings are more deeply rooted
+among people of a certain age. Still she watched. And, yes, he would have to
+pass over her body before stealing her niece.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+One evening she approached the gentleman, and told him, as straight as a
+bullet, that his conduct was most improper. He bowed to her politely without
+answering, like an old satyr who was accustomed to hear parents tell him to go
+about his business. She really could not be cross with him, he was too well
+mannered.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Then came lectures on love, allusions to dirty blackguards of men, and all
+sorts of stories about hussies who had repented of flirtations, which left Nana
+in a state of pouting, with eyes gleaming brightly in her pale face.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+One day, however, in the Rue du Faubourg-Poissonniere the button manufacturer
+ventured to poke his nose between the aunt and the niece to whisper some things
+which ought not to have been said. Thereupon Madame Lerat was so frightened
+that she declared she no longer felt able to handle the matter and she told the
+whole business to her brother. Then came another row. There were some pretty
+rumpuses in the Coupeaus&rsquo; room. To begin with, the zinc-worker gave Nana
+a hiding. What was that he learnt? The hussy was flirting with old men. All
+right. Only let her be caught philandering out of doors again, she&rsquo;d be
+done for; he, her father, would cut off her head in a jiffy. Had the like ever
+been seen before! A dirty nose who thought of beggaring her family! Thereupon
+he shook her, declaring in God&rsquo;s name that she&rsquo;d have to walk
+straight, for he&rsquo;d watch her himself in future. He now looked her over
+every night when she came in, even going so far as to sniff at her and make her
+turn round before him.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+One evening she got another hiding because he discovered a mark on her neck
+that he maintained was the mark of a kiss. Nana insisted it was a bruise that
+Leonie had given her when they were having a bit of a rough-house. Yet at other
+times her father would tease her, saying she was certainly a choice morsel for
+men. Nana began to display the sullen submissiveness of a trapped animal. She
+was raging inside.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Why don&rsquo;t you leave her alone?&rdquo; repeated Gervaise, who was
+more reasonable. &ldquo;You will end by making her wish to do it by talking to
+her about it so much.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Ah! yes, indeed, she did wish to do it. She itched all over, longing to break
+loose and gad all the time, as father Coupeau said. He insisted so much on the
+subject that even an honest girl would have fired up. Even when he was abusing
+her, he taught her a few things she did not know as yet, which, to say the
+least was astonishing. Then, little by little she acquired some singular
+habits. One morning he noticed her rummaging in a paper bag and rubbing
+something on her face. It was rice powder, which she plastered on her delicate
+satin-like skin with perverse taste. He caught up the paper bag and rubbed it
+over her face violently enough to graze her skin and called her a
+miller&rsquo;s daughter. On another occasion she brought some ribbon home, to
+do up her old black hat which she was so ashamed of. He asked her in a furious
+voice where she had got those ribbons from. Had she earned them by lying on her
+back or had she bagged them somewhere? A hussy or a thief, and perhaps both by
+now?
+</p>
+
+<p>
+More than once he found her with some pretty little doodad. She had found a
+little interlaced heart in the street on Rue d&rsquo;Aboukir. Her father
+crushed the heart under his foot, driving her to the verge of throwing herself
+at him to ruin something of his. For two years she had been longing for one of
+those hearts, and now he had smashed it! This was too much, she was reaching
+the end of the line with him.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Coupeau was often in the wrong in the manner in which he tried to rule Nana.
+His injustice exasperated her. She at last left off attending the workshop and
+when the zinc-worker gave her a hiding, she declared she would not return to
+Titreville&rsquo;s again, for she was always placed next to Augustine, who must
+have swallowed her feet to have such a foul breath. Then Coupeau took her
+himself to the Rue du Caire and requested the mistress of the establishment to
+place her always next to Augustine, by way of punishment. Every morning for a
+fortnight he took the trouble to come down from the Barriere Poissonniere to
+escort Nana to the door of the flower shop. And he remained for five minutes on
+the footway, to make sure that she had gone in. But one morning while he was
+drinking a glass with a friend in a wineshop in the Rue Saint-Denis, he
+perceived the hussy darting down the street. For a fortnight she had been
+deceiving him; instead of going into the workroom, she climbed a story higher,
+and sat down on the stairs, waiting till he had gone off. When Coupeau began
+casting the blame on Madame Lerat, the latter flatly replied that she would not
+accept it. She had told her niece all she ought to tell her, to keep her on her
+guard against men, and it was not her fault if the girl still had a liking for
+the nasty beasts. Now, she washed her hands of the whole business; she swore
+she would not mix up in it, for she knew what she knew about scandalmongers in
+her own family, yes, certain persons who had the nerve to accuse her of going
+astray with Nana and finding an indecent pleasure in watching her take her
+first misstep. Then Coupeau found out from the proprietress that Nana was being
+corrupted by that little floozie Leonie, who had given up flower-making to go
+on the street. Nana was being tempted by the jingle of cash and the lure of
+adventure on the streets.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+In the tenement in the Rue de la Goutte-d&rsquo;Or, Nana&rsquo;s old fellow was
+talked about as a gentleman everyone was acquainted with. Oh! he remained very
+polite, even a little timid, but awfully obstinate and patient, following her
+ten paces behind like an obedient poodle. Sometimes, indeed, he ventured into
+the courtyard. One evening, Madame Gaudron met him on the second floor landing,
+and he glided down alongside the balusters with his nose lowered and looking as
+if on fire, but frightened. The Lorilleuxs threatened to move out if that
+wayward niece of theirs brought men trailing in after her. It was disgusting.
+The staircase was full of them. The Boches said that they felt sympathy for the
+old gentleman because he had fallen for a tramp. He was really a respectable
+businessman, they had seen his button factory on the Boulevard de la Villette.
+He would be an excellent catch for a decent girl.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+For the first month Nana was greatly amused with her old flirt. You should have
+seen him always dogging her&mdash;a perfect great nuisance, who followed far
+behind, in the crowd, without seeming to do so. And his legs! Regular lucifers.
+No more moss on his pate, only four straight hairs falling on his neck, so that
+she was always tempted to ask him where his hairdresser lived. Ah! what an old
+gaffer, he was comical and no mistake, nothing to get excited over.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Then, on finding him always behind her, she no longer thought him so funny. She
+became afraid of him and would have called out if he had approached her. Often,
+when she stopped in front of a jeweler&rsquo;s shop, she heard him stammering
+something behind her. And what he said was true; she would have liked to have
+had a cross with a velvet neck-band, or a pair of coral earrings, so small you
+would have thought they were drops of blood.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+More and more, as she plodded through the mire of the streets, getting splashed
+by passing vehicles and being dazzled by the magnificence of the window
+displays, she felt longings that tortured her like hunger pangs, yearnings for
+better clothes, for eating in restaurants, for going to the theatre, for a room
+of her own with nice furniture. Right at those moments, it never failed that
+her old gentleman would come up to whisper something in her ear. Oh, if only
+she wasn&rsquo;t afraid of him, how readily she would have taken up with him.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+When the winter arrived, life became impossible at home. Nana had her hiding
+every night. When her father was tired of beating her, her mother smacked her
+to teach her how to behave. And there were free-for-alls; as soon as one of
+them began to beat her, the other took her part, so that all three of them
+ended by rolling on the floor in the midst of the broken crockery. And with all
+this, there were short rations and they shivered with cold. Whenever the girl
+bought anything pretty, a bow or a pair of buttons, her parents confiscated the
+purchase and drank what they could get for it. She had nothing of her own,
+excepting her allowance of blows, before coiling herself up between the rags of
+a sheet, where she shivered under her little black skirt, which she stretched
+out by way of a blanket. No, that cursed life could not continue; she was not
+going to leave her skin in it. Her father had long since ceased to count for
+her; when a father gets drunk like hers did, he isn&rsquo;t a father, but a
+dirty beast one longs to be rid of. And now, too, her mother was doing down the
+hill in her esteem. She drank as well. She liked to go and fetch her husband at
+Pere Colombe&rsquo;s, so as to be treated; and she willingly sat down, with
+none of the air of disgust that she had assumed on the first occasion, draining
+glasses indeed at one gulp, dragging her elbows over the table for hours and
+leaving the place with her eyes starting out of her head.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+When Nana passed in front of l&rsquo;Assommoir and saw her mother inside, with
+her nose in her glass, fuddled in the midst of the disputing men, she was
+seized with anger; for youth which has other dainty thoughts uppermost does not
+understand drink. On these evenings it was a pretty sight. Father drunk, mother
+drunk, a hell of a home that stunk with liquor, and where there was no bread.
+To tell the truth, a saint would not have stayed in the place. So much the
+worse if she flew the coop one of these days; her parents would have to say
+their <i>mea culpa</i>, and own that they had driven her out themselves.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+One Saturday when Nana came home she found her father and her mother in a
+lamentable condition. Coupeau, who had fallen across the bed was snoring.
+Gervaise, crouching on a chair was swaying her head, with her eyes vaguely and
+threateningly staring into vacancy. She had forgotten to warm the dinner, the
+remains of a stew. A tallow dip which she neglected to snuff revealed the
+shameful misery of their hovel.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;It&rsquo;s you, shrimp?&rdquo; stammered Gervaise. &ldquo;Ah, well, your
+father will take care of you.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Nana did not answer, but remained pale, looking at the cold stove, the table on
+which no plates were laid, the lugubrious hovel which this pair of drunkards
+invested with the pale horror of their callousness. She did not take off her
+hat but walked round the room; then with her teeth tightly set, she opened the
+door and went out.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;You are doing down again?&rdquo; asked her mother, who was unable even
+to turn her head.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Yes; I&rsquo;ve forgotten something. I shall come up again. Good
+evening.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+And she did not return. On the morrow when the Coupeaus were sobered they
+fought together, reproaching each other with being the cause of Nana&rsquo;s
+flight. Ah! she was far away if she were running still! As children are told of
+sparrows, her parents might set a pinch of salt on her tail, and then perhaps
+they would catch her. It was a great blow, and crushed Gervaise, for despite
+the impairment of her faculties, she realized perfectly well that her
+daughter&rsquo;s misconduct lowered her still more; she was alone now, with no
+child to think about, able to let herself sink as low as she could fall. She
+drank steadily for three days. Coupeau prowled along the exterior Boulevards
+without seeing Nana and then came home to smoke his pipe peacefully. He was
+always back in time for his soup.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+In this tenement, where girls flew off every month like canaries whose cages
+are left open, no one was astonished to hear of the Coupeaus&rsquo; mishap. But
+the Lorilleuxs were triumphant. Ah! they had predicted that the girl would
+reward her parents in this fashion. It was deserved; all artificial
+flower-girls went that way. The Boches and the Poissons also sneered with an
+extraordinary display and outlay of grief. Lantier alone covertly defended
+Nana. <i>Mon Dieu!</i> said he, with his puritanical air, no doubt a girl who
+so left her home did offend her parents; but, with a gleam in the corner of his
+eyes, he added that, dash it! the girl was, after all, too pretty to lead such
+a life of misery at her age.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Do you know,&rdquo; cried Madame Lorilleux, one day in the Boches&rsquo;
+room, where the party were taking coffee; &ldquo;well, as sure as daylight,
+Clump-clump sold her daughter. Yes she sold her, and I have proof of it! That
+old fellow, who was always on the stairs morning and night, went up to pay
+something on account. It stares one in the face. They were seen together at the
+Ambigu Theatre&mdash;the young wench and her old tom cat. Upon my word of
+honor, they&rsquo;re living together, it&rsquo;s quite plain.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+They discussed the scandal thoroughly while finishing their coffee. Yes, it was
+quite possible. Soon most of the neighborhood accepted the conclusion that
+Gervaise had actually sold her daughter.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Gervaise now shuffled along in her slippers, without caring a rap for anyone.
+You might have called her a thief in the street, she wouldn&rsquo;t have turned
+round. For a month past she hadn&rsquo;t looked at Madame Fauconnier&rsquo;s;
+the latter had had to turn her out of the place to avoid disputes. In a few
+weeks&rsquo; time she had successively entered the service of eight
+washerwomen; she only lasted two or three days in each place before she got the
+sack, so badly did she iron the things entrusted to her, careless and dirty,
+her mind failing to such a point that she quite forgot her own craft. At last
+realizing her own incapacity she abandoned ironing; and went out washing by the
+day at the wash-house in the Rue Neuve, where she still jogged on, floundering
+about in the water, fighting with filth, reduced to the roughest but simplest
+work, a bit lower on the down-hill slopes. The wash-house scarcely beautified
+her. A real mud-splashed dog when she came out of it, soaked and showing her
+blue skin. At the same time she grew stouter and stouter, despite her frequent
+dances before the empty sideboard, and her leg became so crooked that she could
+no longer walk beside anyone without the risk of knocking him over, so great
+indeed was her limp.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Naturally enough when a woman falls to this point all her pride leaves her.
+Gervaise had divested herself of all her old self-respect, coquetry and need of
+sentiment, propriety and politeness. You might have kicked her, no matter
+where, she did not feel kicks for she had become too fat and flabby. Lantier
+had altogether neglected her; he no longer escorted her or even bothered to
+give her a pinch now and again. She did not seem to notice this finish of a
+long liaison slowly spun out, and ending in mutual insolence. It was a chore
+the less for her. Even Lantier&rsquo;s intimacy with Virginie left her quite
+calm, so great was her indifference now for all that she had been so upset
+about in the past. She would even have held a candle for them now.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Everyone was aware that Virginie and Lantier were carrying on. It was much too
+convenient, especially with Poisson on duty every other night. Lantier had
+thought of himself when he advised Virginie to deal in dainties. He was too
+much of a Provincial not to adore sugared things; and in fact he would have
+lived off sugar candy, lozenges, pastilles, sugar plums and chocolate. Sugared
+almonds especially left a little froth on his lips so keenly did they tickle
+his palate. For a year he had been living only on sweetmeats. He opened the
+drawers and stuffed himself whenever Virginie asked him to mind the shop.
+Often, when he was talking in the presence of five or six other people, he
+would take the lid off a jar on the counter, dip his hand into it and begin to
+nibble at something sweet; the glass jar remained open and its contents
+diminished. People ceased paying attention to it, it was a mania of his so he
+had declared. Besides, he had devised a perpetual cold, an irritation of the
+throat, which he always talked of calming.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+He still did not work, for he had more and more important schemes than ever in
+view. He was contriving a superb invention&mdash;the umbrella hat, a hat which
+transformed itself into an umbrella on your head as soon as a shower commenced
+to fall; and he promised Poisson half shares in the profit of it, and even
+borrowed twenty franc pieces of him to defray the cost of experiments.
+Meanwhile the shop melted away on his tongue. All the stock-in-trade followed
+suit down to the chocolate cigars and pipes in pink caramel. Whenever he was
+stuffed with sweetmeats and seized with a fit of tenderness, he paid himself
+with a last lick on the groceress in a corner, who found him all sugar with
+lips which tasted like burnt almonds. Such a delightful man to kiss! He was
+positively becoming all honey. The Boches said he merely had to dip a finger
+into his coffee to sweeten it.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Softened by this perpetual dessert, Lantier showed himself paternal towards
+Gervaise. He gave her advice and scolded her because she no longer liked to
+work. Indeed! A woman of her age ought to know how to turn herself round. And
+he accused her of having always been a glutton. Nevertheless, as one ought to
+hold out a helping hand, even to folks who don&rsquo;t deserve it, he tried to
+find her a little work. Thus he had prevailed upon Virginie to let Gervaise
+come once a week to scrub the shop and the rooms. That was the sort of thing
+she understood and on each occasion she earned her thirty sous. Gervaise
+arrived on the Saturday morning with a pail and a scrubbing brush, without
+seeming to suffer in the least at having to perform a dirty, humble duty, a
+charwoman&rsquo;s work in the dwelling-place where she had reigned as the
+beautiful fair-haired mistress. It was a last humiliation, the end of her
+pride.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+One Saturday she had a hard job of it. It had rained for three days and the
+customers seemed to have brought all the mud of the neighborhood into the shop
+on the soles of their boots. Virginie was at the counter doing the grand, with
+her hair well combed, and wearing a little white collar and a pair of lace
+cuffs. Beside her, on the narrow seat covered with red oil-cloth, Lantier did
+the dandy, looking for the world as if he were at home, as if he were the real
+master of the place, and from time to time he carelessly dipped his hand into a
+jar of peppermint drops, just to nibble something sweet according to his habit.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Look here, Madame Coupeau!&rdquo; cried Virginie, who was watching the
+scrubbing with compressed lips, &ldquo;you have left some dirt over there in
+the corner. Scrub that rather better please.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Gervaise obeyed. She returned to the corner and began to scrub again. She bent
+double on her knees in the midst of the dirty water, with her shoulders
+protruding, her arms stiff and purple with cold. Her old skirt, fairly soaked,
+stuck to her figure. And there on the floor she looked a dirty, ill-combed
+drab, the rents in her jacket showing her puffy form, her fat, flabby flesh
+which heaved, swayed and floundered about as she went about her work; and all
+the while she perspired to such a point that from her moist face big drops of
+sweat fell on to the floor.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;The more elbow grease one uses, the more it shines,&rdquo; said Lantier,
+sententiously, with his mouth full of peppermint drops.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Virginie, who sat back with the demeanor of a princess, her eyes partly open,
+was still watching the scrubbing, and indulging in remarks. &ldquo;A little
+more on the right there. Take care of the wainscot. You know I was not very
+well pleased last Saturday. There were some stains left.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+And both together, the hatter and the groceress assumed a more important air,
+as if they had been on a throne whilst Gervaise dragged herself through the
+black mud at their feet. Virginie must have enjoyed herself, for a yellowish
+flame darted from her cat&rsquo;s eyes, and she looked at Lantier with an
+insidious smile. At last she was revenged for that hiding she had received at
+the wash-house, and which she had never forgotten.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Whenever Gervaise ceased scrubbing, a sound of sawing could be heard from the
+back room. Through the open doorway, Poisson&rsquo;s profile stood out against
+the pale light of the courtyard. He was off duty that day and was profiting by
+his leisure time to indulge in his mania for making little boxes. He was seated
+at a table and was cutting out arabesques in a cigar box with extraordinary
+care.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Say, Badingue!&rdquo; cried Lantier, who had given him this surname
+again, out of friendship. &ldquo;I shall want that box of yours as a present
+for a young lady.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Virginie gave him a pinch and he reached under the counter to run his fingers
+like a creeping mouse up her leg.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Quite so,&rdquo; said the policeman. &ldquo;I was working for you,
+Auguste, in view of presenting you with a token of friendship.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Ah, if that&rsquo;s the case, I&rsquo;ll keep your little
+memento!&rdquo; rejoined Lantier with a laugh. &ldquo;I&rsquo;ll hang it round
+my neck with a ribbon.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Then suddenly, as if this thought brought another one to his memory, &ldquo;By
+the way,&rdquo; he cried, &ldquo;I met Nana last night.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+This news caused Gervaise such emotion that she sunk down in the dirty water
+which covered the floor of the shop.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Ah!&rdquo; she muttered speechlessly.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Yes; as I was going down the Rue des Martyrs, I caught sight of a girl
+who was on the arm of an old fellow in front of me, and I said to myself: I
+know that shape. I stepped faster and sure enough found myself face to face
+with Nana. There&rsquo;s no need to pity her, she looked very happy, with her
+pretty woolen dress on her back, a gold cross and an awfully pert
+expression.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Ah!&rdquo; repeated Gervaise in a husky voice.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Lantier, who had finished the pastilles, took some barley-sugar out of another
+jar.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;She&rsquo;s sneaky,&rdquo; he resumed. &ldquo;She made a sign to me to
+follow her, with wonderful composure. Then she left her old fellow somewhere in
+a cafe&mdash;oh a wonderful chap, the old bloke, quite used up!&mdash;and she
+came and joined me under the doorway. A pretty little serpent, pretty, and
+doing the grand, and fawning on you like a little dog. Yes, she kissed me, and
+wanted to have news of everyone&mdash;I was very pleased to meet her.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Ah!&rdquo; said Gervaise for the third time. She drew herself together,
+and still waited. Hadn&rsquo;t her daughter had a word for her then? In the
+silence Poisson&rsquo;s saw could be heard again. Lantier, who felt gay, was
+sucking his barley-sugar, and smacking his lips.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Well, if <i>I</i> saw her, I should go over to the other side of the
+street,&rdquo; interposed Virginie, who had just pinched the hatter again most
+ferociously. &ldquo;It isn&rsquo;t because you are there, Madame Coupeau, but
+your daughter is rotten to the core. Why, every day Poisson arrests girls who
+are better than she is.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Gervaise said nothing, nor did she move; her eyes staring into space. She ended
+by jerking her head to and fro, as if in answer to her thoughts, whilst the
+hatter, with a gluttonous mien, muttered:
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Ah, a man wouldn&rsquo;t mind getting a bit of indigestion from that
+sort of rottenness. It&rsquo;s as tender as chicken.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+But the grocer gave him such a terrible look that he had to pause and quiet her
+with some delicate attention. He watched the policeman, and perceiving that he
+had his nose lowered over his little box again, he profited of the opportunity
+to shove some barley-sugar into Virginie&rsquo;s mouth. Thereupon she laughed
+at him good-naturedly and turned all her anger against Gervaise.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Just make haste, eh? The work doesn&rsquo;t do itself while you remain
+stuck there like a street post. Come, look alive, I don&rsquo;t want to
+flounder about in the water till night time.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+And she added hatefully in a lower tone: &ldquo;It isn&rsquo;t my fault if her
+daughter&rsquo;s gone and left her.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+No doubt Gervaise did not hear. She had begun to scrub the floor again, with
+her back bent and dragging herself along with a frog-like motion. She still had
+to sweep the dirty water out into the gutter, and then do the final rinsing.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+After a pause, Lantier, who felt bored, raised his voice again: &ldquo;Do you
+know, Badingue,&rdquo; he cried, &ldquo;I met your boss yesterday in the Rue de
+Rivoli. He looked awfully down in the mouth. He hasn&rsquo;t six months&rsquo;
+life left in his body. Ah! after all, with the life he leads&mdash;&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+He was talking about the Emperor. The policeman did not raise his eyes, but
+curtly answered: &ldquo;If you were the Government you wouldn&rsquo;t be so
+fat.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Oh, my dear fellow, if I were the Government,&rdquo; rejoined the
+hatter, suddenly affecting an air of gravity, &ldquo;things would go on rather
+better, I give you my word for it. Thus, their foreign policy&mdash;why, for
+some time past it has been enough to make a fellow sweat. If I&mdash;I who
+speak to you&mdash;only knew a journalist to inspire him with my ideas.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+He was growing animated, and as he had finished crunching his barley-sugar, he
+opened a drawer from which he took a number of jujubes, which he swallowed
+while gesticulating.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;It&rsquo;s quite simple. Before anything else, I should give Poland her
+independence again, and I should establish a great Scandinavian state to keep
+the Giant of the North at bay. Then I should make a republic out of all the
+little German states. As for England, she&rsquo;s scarcely to be feared; if she
+budged ever so little I should send a hundred thousand men to India. Add to
+that I should send the Sultan back to Mecca and the Pope to Jerusalem,
+belaboring their backs with the butt end of a rifle. Eh? Europe would soon be
+clean. Come, Badingue, just look here.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+He paused to take five or six jujubes in his hand. &ldquo;Why, it
+wouldn&rsquo;t take longer than to swallow these.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+And he threw one jujube after another into his open mouth.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;The Emperor has another plan,&rdquo; said the policeman, after
+reflecting for a couple of minutes.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Oh, forget it,&rdquo; rejoined the hatter. &ldquo;We know what his plan
+is. All Europe is laughing at us. Every day the Tuileries footmen find your
+boss under the table between a couple of high society floozies.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Poisson rose to his feet. He came forward and placed his hand on his heart,
+saying: &ldquo;You hurt me, Auguste. Discuss, but don&rsquo;t involve
+personalities.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Thereupon Virginie intervened, bidding them stop their row. She didn&rsquo;t
+care a fig for Europe. How could two men, who shared everything else, always be
+disputing about politics? For a minute they mumbled some indistinct words. Then
+the policeman, in view of showing that he harbored no spite, produced the cover
+of his little box, which he had just finished; it bore the inscription in
+marquetry: &ldquo;To Auguste, a token of friendship.&rdquo; Lantier, feeling
+exceedingly flattered, lounged back and spread himself out so that he almost
+sat upon Virginie. And the husband viewed the scene with his face the color of
+an old wall and his bleared eyes fairly expressionless; but all the same, at
+moments the red hairs of his moustaches stood up on end of their own accord in
+a very singular fashion, which would have alarmed any man who was less sure of
+his business than the hatter.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+This beast of a Lantier had the quiet cheek which pleases ladies. As Poisson
+turned his back he was seized with the idea of printing a kiss on Madame
+Poisson&rsquo;s left eye. As a rule he was stealthily prudent, but when he had
+been disputing about politics he risked everything, so as to show the wife his
+superiority. These gloating caresses, cheekily stolen behind the
+policeman&rsquo;s back, revenged him on the Empire which had turned France into
+a house of quarrels. Only on this occasion he had forgotten Gervaise&rsquo;s
+presence. She had just finished rinsing and wiping the shop, and she stood near
+the counter waiting for her thirty sous. However, the kiss on Virginie&rsquo;s
+eye left her perfectly calm, as being quite natural, and as part of a business
+she had no right to mix herself up in. Virginie seemed rather vexed. She threw
+the thirty sous on to the counter in front of Gervaise. The latter did not
+budge but stood there waiting, still palpitating with the effort she had made
+in scrubbing, and looking as soaked and as ugly as a dog fished out of the
+sewer.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Then she didn&rsquo;t tell you anything?&rdquo; she asked the hatter at
+last.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Who?&rdquo; he cried. &ldquo;Ah, yes; you mean Nana. No, nothing else.
+What a tempting mouth she has, the little hussy! Real strawberry jam!&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Gervaise went off with her thirty sous in her hand. The holes in her shoes spat
+water forth like pumps; they were real musical shoes, and played a tune as they
+left moist traces of their broad soles along the pavement.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+In the neighborhood the feminine tipplers of her own class now related that she
+drank to console herself for her daughter&rsquo;s misconduct. She herself, when
+she gulped down her dram of spirits on the counter, assumed a dramatic air, and
+tossed the liquor into her mouth, wishing it would &ldquo;do&rdquo; for her.
+And on the days when she came home boozed she stammered that it was all through
+grief. But honest folks shrugged their shoulders. They knew what that meant:
+ascribing the effects of the peppery fire of l&rsquo;Assommoir to grief,
+indeed! At all events, she ought to have called it bottled grief. No doubt at
+the beginning she couldn&rsquo;t digest Nana&rsquo;s flight. All the honest
+feelings remaining in her revolted at the thought, and besides, as a rule a
+mother doesn&rsquo;t like to have to think that her daughter, at that very
+moment, perhaps, is being familiarly addressed by the first chance comer. But
+Gervaise was already too stultified with a sick head and a crushed heart, to
+think of the shame for long. With her it came and went. She remained sometimes
+for a week together without thinking of her daughter, and then suddenly a
+tender or an angry feeling seized hold of her, sometimes when she had her
+stomach empty, at others when it was full, a furious longing to catch Nana in
+some corner, where she would perhaps have kissed her or perhaps have beaten
+her, according to the fancy of the moment.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Whenever these thoughts came over her, Gervaise looked on all sides in the
+streets with the eyes of a detective. Ah! if she had only seen her little
+sinner, how quickly she would have brought her home again! The neighborhood was
+being turned topsy-turvy that year. The Boulevard Magenta and the Boulevard
+Ornano were being pierced; they were doing away with the old Barriere
+Poissonniere and cutting right through the outer Boulevard. The district could
+not be recognized. The whole of one side of the Rue des Poissonniers had been
+pulled down. From the Rue de la Goutte-d&rsquo;Or a large clearing could now be
+seen, a dash of sunlight and open air; and in place of the gloomy buildings
+which had hidden the view in this direction there rose up on the Boulevard
+Ornano a perfect monument, a six-storied house, carved all over like a church,
+with clear windows, which, with their embroidered curtains, seemed symbolical
+of wealth. This white house, standing just in front of the street, illuminated
+it with a jet of light, as it were, and every day it caused discussions between
+Lantier and Poisson.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Gervaise had several times had tidings of Nana. There are always ready tongues
+anxious to pay you a sorry compliment. Yes, she had been told that the hussy
+had left her old gentleman, just like the inexperienced girl she was. She had
+gotten along famously with him, petted, adored, and free, too, if she had only
+known how to manage the situation. But youth is foolish, and she had no doubt
+gone off with some young rake, no one knew exactly where. What seemed certain
+was that one afternoon she had left her old fellow on the Place de la Bastille,
+just for half a minute, and he was still waiting for her to return. Other
+persons swore they had seen her since, dancing on her heels at the &ldquo;Grand
+Hall of Folly,&rdquo; in the Rue de la Chapelle. Then it was that Gervaise took
+it into her head to frequent all the dancing places of the neighborhood. She
+did not pass in front of a public ball-room without going in. Coupeau
+accompanied her. At first they merely made the round of the room, looking at
+the drabs who were jumping about. But one evening, as they had some coin, they
+sat down and ordered a large bowl of hot wine in view of regaling themselves
+and waiting to see if Nana would turn up. At the end of a month or so they had
+practically forgotten her, but they frequented the halls for their own
+pleasure, liking to look at the dancers. They would remain for hours without
+exchanging a word, resting their elbows on the table, stultified amidst the
+quaking of the floor, and yet no doubt amusing themselves as they stared with
+pale eyes at the Barriere women in the stifling atmosphere and ruddy glow of
+the hall.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+It happened one November evening that they went into the &ldquo;Grand Hall of
+Folly&rdquo; to warm themselves. Out of doors a sharp wind cut you across the
+face. But the hall was crammed. There was a thundering big swarm inside; people
+at all the tables, people in the middle, people up above, quite an amount of
+flesh. Yes, those who cared for tripes could enjoy themselves. When they had
+made the round twice without finding a vacant table, they decided to remain
+standing and wait till somebody went off. Coupeau was teetering on his legs, in
+a dirty blouse, with an old cloth cap which had lost its peak flattened down on
+his head. And as he blocked the way, he saw a scraggy young fellow who was
+wiping his coat-sleeve after elbowing him.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Say!&rdquo; cried Coupeau in a fury, as he took his pipe out of his
+black mouth. &ldquo;Can&rsquo;t you apologize? And you play the disgusted one?
+Just because a fellow wears a blouse!&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The young man turned round and looked at the zinc-worker from head to foot.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;I&rsquo;ll just teach you, you scraggy young scamp,&rdquo; continued
+Coupeau, &ldquo;that the blouse is the finest garment out; yes! the garment of
+work. I&rsquo;ll wipe you if you like with my fists. Did one ever hear of such
+a thing&mdash;a ne&rsquo;er-do-well insulting a workman!&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Gervaise tried to calm him, but in vain. He drew himself up in his rags, in
+full view, and struck his blouse, roaring: &ldquo;There&rsquo;s a man&rsquo;s
+chest under that!&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Thereupon the young man dived into the midst of the crowd, muttering:
+&ldquo;What a dirty blackguard!&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Coupeau wanted to follow and catch him. He wasn&rsquo;t going to let himself be
+insulted by a fellow with a coat on. Probably it wasn&rsquo;t even paid for!
+Some second-hand toggery to impress a girl with, without having to fork out a
+centime. If he caught the chap again, he&rsquo;d bring him down on his knees
+and make him bow to the blouse. But the crush was too great; there was no means
+of walking. He and Gervaise turned slowly round the dancers; there were three
+rows of sightseers packed close together, whose faces lighted up whenever any
+of the dancers showed off. As Coupeau and Gervaise were both short, they raised
+themselves up on tiptoe, trying to see something besides the chignons and hats
+that were bobbing about. The cracked brass instruments of the orchestra were
+furiously thundering a quadrille, a perfect tempest which made the hall shake;
+while the dancers, striking the floor with their feet, raised a cloud of dust
+which dimmed the brightness of the gas. The heat was unbearable.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Look there,&rdquo; said Gervaise suddenly.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Look at what?&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Why, at that velvet hat over there.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+They raised themselves up on tiptoe. On the left hand there was an old black
+velvet hat trimmed with ragged feathers bobbing about&mdash;regular
+hearse&rsquo;s plumes. It was dancing a devil of a dance, this
+hat&mdash;bouncing and whirling round, diving down and then springing up again.
+Coupeau and Gervaise lost sight of it as the people round about moved their
+heads, but then suddenly they saw it again, swaying farther off with such droll
+effrontery that folks laughed merely at the sight of this dancing hat, without
+knowing what was underneath it.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Well?&rdquo; asked Coupeau.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Don&rsquo;t you recognize that head of hair?&rdquo; muttered Gervaise in
+a stifled voice. &ldquo;May my head be cut off if it isn&rsquo;t her.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+With one shove the zinc-worker made his way through the crowd. <i>Mon Dieu!</i>
+yes, it was Nana! And in a nice pickle too! She had nothing on her back but an
+old silk dress, all stained and sticky from having wiped the tables of boozing
+dens, and with its flounces so torn that they fell in tatters round about. Not
+even a bit of a shawl over her shoulders. And to think that the hussy had had
+such an attentive, loving gentleman, and had yet fallen to this condition,
+merely for the sake of following some rascal who had beaten her, no doubt!
+Nevertheless she had remained fresh and insolent, with her hair as frizzy as a
+poodle&rsquo;s, and her mouth bright pink under that rascally hat of hers.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Just wait a bit, I&rsquo;ll make her dance!&rdquo; resumed Coupeau.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Naturally enough, Nana was not on her guard. You should have seen how she
+wriggled about! She twisted to the right and to the left, bending double as if
+she were going to break herself in two, and kicking her feet as high as her
+partner&rsquo;s face. A circle had formed about her and this excited her even
+more. She raised her skirts to her knees and really let herself go in a wild
+dance, whirling and turning, dropping to the floor in splits, and then jigging
+and bouncing.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Coupeau was trying to force his way through the dancers and was disrupting the
+quadrille.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;I tell you, it&rsquo;s my daughter!&rdquo; he cried; &ldquo;let me
+pass.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Nana was now dancing backwards, sweeping the floor with her flounces, rounding
+her figure and wriggling it, so as to look all the more tempting. She suddenly
+received a masterly blow just on the right cheek. She raised herself up and
+turned quite pale on recognizing her father and mother. Bad luck and no
+mistake.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Turn him out!&rdquo; howled the dancers.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+But Coupeau, who had just recognized his daughter&rsquo;s cavalier as the
+scraggy young man in the coat, did not care a fig for what the people said.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Yes, it&rsquo;s us,&rdquo; he roared. &ldquo;Eh? You didn&rsquo;t expect
+it. So we catch you here, and with a whipper-snapper, too, who insulted me a
+little while ago!&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Gervaise, whose teeth were tight set, pushed him aside, exclaiming, &ldquo;Shut
+up. There&rsquo;s no need of so much explanation.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+And, stepping forward, she dealt Nana a couple of hearty cuffs. The first
+knocked the feathered hat on one side, and the second left a red mark on the
+girl&rsquo;s white cheek. Nana was too stupefied either to cry or resist. The
+orchestra continued playing, the crowd grew angry and repeated savagely,
+&ldquo;Turn them out! Turn them out!&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Come, make haste!&rdquo; resumed Gervaise. &ldquo;Just walk in front,
+and don&rsquo;t try to run off. You shall sleep in prison if you do.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The scraggy young man had prudently disappeared. Nana walked ahead, very stiff
+and still stupefied by her bad luck. Whenever she showed the lest
+unwillingness, a cuff from behind brought her back to the direction of the
+door. And thus they went out, all three of them, amid the jeers and banter of
+the spectators, whilst the orchestra finished playing the finale with such
+thunder that the trombones seemed to be spitting bullets.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The old life began again. After sleeping for twelve hours in her closet, Nana
+behaved very well for a week or so. She had patched herself a modest little
+dress, and wore a cap with the strings tied under her chignon. Seized indeed
+with remarkable fervor, she declared she would work at home, where one could
+earn what one liked without hearing any nasty work-room talk; and she procured
+some work and installed herself at a table, getting up at five o&rsquo;clock in
+the morning on the first few days to roll her sprigs of violets. But when she
+had delivered a few gross, she stretched her arms and yawned over her work,
+with her hands cramped, for she had lost her knack of stem-rolling, and
+suffocated, shut up like this at home after allowing herself so much open air
+freedom during the last six months. Then the glue dried, the petals and the
+green paper got stained with grease, and the flower-dealer came three times in
+person to make a row and claim his spoiled materials.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Nana idled along, constantly getting a hiding from her father, and wrangling
+with her mother morning and night&mdash;quarrels in which the two women flung
+horrible words at each other&rsquo;s head. It couldn&rsquo;t last; the twelfth
+day she took herself off, with no more luggage than her modest dress on her
+back and her cap perched over one ear. The Lorilleuxs, who had pursed their
+lips on hearing of her return and repentance, nearly died of laughter now.
+Second performance, eclipse number two, all aboard for the train for
+Saint-Lazare, the prison-hospital for streetwalkers! No, it was really too
+comical. Nana took herself off in such an amusing style. Well, if the Coupeaus
+wanted to keep her in the future, they must shut her up in a cage.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+In the presence of other people the Coupeaus pretended they were very glad to
+be rid of the girl, though in reality they were enraged. However, rage
+can&rsquo;t last forever, and soon they heard without even blinking that Nana
+was seen in the neighborhood. Gervaise, who accused her of doing it to enrage
+them, set herself above the scandal; she might meet her daughter on the street,
+she said; she wouldn&rsquo;t even dirty her hand to cuff her; yes, it was all
+over; she might have seen her lying in the gutter, dying on the pavement, and
+she would have passed by without even admitting that such a hussy was her own
+child.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Nana meanwhile was enlivening the dancing halls of the neighborhood. She was
+known from the &ldquo;Ball of Queen Blanche&rdquo; to the &ldquo;Great Hall of
+Folly.&rdquo; When she entered the &ldquo;Elysee-Montmartre,&rdquo; folks
+climbed onto the tables to see her do the &ldquo;sniffling crawfish&rdquo;
+during the pastourelle. As she had twice been turned out of the &ldquo;Chateau
+Rouge&rdquo; hall, she walked outside the door waiting for someone she knew to
+escort her inside. The &ldquo;Black Ball&rdquo; on the outer Boulevard and the
+&ldquo;Grand Turk&rdquo; in the Rue des Poissonniers, were respectable places
+where she only went when she had some fine dress on. Of all the jumping places
+of the neighborhood, however, those she most preferred were the
+&ldquo;Hermitage Ball&rdquo; in a damp courtyard and &ldquo;Robert&rsquo;s
+Ball&rdquo; in the Impasse du Cadran, two dirty little halls, lighted up with a
+half dozen oil lamps, and kept very informally, everyone pleased and everyone
+free, so much so that the men and their girls kissed each other at their ease,
+in the dances, without being disturbed. Nana had ups and downs, perfect
+transformations, now tricked out like a stylish woman and now all dirt. Ah! she
+had a fine life.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+On several occasions the Coupeaus fancied they saw her in some shady dive. They
+turned their backs and decamped in another direction so as not to be obliged to
+recognize her. They didn&rsquo;t care to be laughed at by a whole dancing hall
+again for the sake of bringing such a dolt home. One night as they were going
+to bed, however, someone knocked at the door. It was Nana who matter-of-factly
+came to ask for a bed; and in what a state. <i>Mon Dieu!</i> her head was bare,
+her dress in tatters, and her boots full of holes&mdash;such a toilet as might
+have led the police to run her in, and take her off to the Depot. Naturally
+enough she received a hiding, and then she gluttonously fell on a crust of
+stale bread and went to sleep, worn out, with the last mouthful between her
+teeth.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Then this sort of life continued. As soon as she was somewhat recovered she
+would go off and not a sight or sound of her. Weeks or months would pass and
+she would suddenly appear with no explanation. The Coupeaus got used to these
+comings and goings. Well, as long as she didn&rsquo;t leave the door open. What
+could you expect?
+</p>
+
+<p>
+There was only one thing that really bothered Gervaise. This was to see her
+daughter come home in a dress with a train and a hat covered with feathers. No,
+she couldn&rsquo;t stomach this display. Nana might indulge in riotous living
+if she chose, but when she came home to her mother&rsquo;s she ought to dress
+like a workgirl. The dresses with trains caused quite a sensation in the house;
+the Lorilleuxs sneered; Lantier, whose mouth sneered, turned the girl round to
+sniff at her delicious aroma; the Boches had forbidden Pauline to associate
+with this baggage in her frippery. And Gervaise was also angered by
+Nana&rsquo;s exhausted slumber, when after one of her adventures, she slept
+till noon, with her chignon undone and still full of hair pins, looking so
+white and breathing so feebly that she seemed to be dead. Her mother shook her
+five or six times in the course of the morning, threatening to throw a jugful
+of water over her. The sight of this handsome lazy girl, half naked and
+besotted with wine, exasperated her, as she saw her lying there. Sometimes Nana
+opened an eye, closed it again, and then stretched herself out all the more.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+One day after reproaching her with the life she led and asking her if she had
+taken on an entire battalion of soldiers, Gervaise put her threat into
+execution to the extent of shaking her dripping hand over Nana&rsquo;s body.
+Quite infuriated, the girl pulled herself up in the sheet, and cried out:
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;That&rsquo;s enough, mamma. It would be better not to talk of men. You
+did as you liked, and now I do the same!&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;What! What!&rdquo; stammered the mother.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Yes, I never spoke to you about it, for it didn&rsquo;t concern me; but
+you didn&rsquo;t used to be very fussy. I often saw you when we lived at the
+shop sneaking off as soon as papa started snoring. So just shut up; you
+shouldn&rsquo;t have set me the example.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Gervaise remained pale, with trembling hands, turning round without knowing
+what she was about, whilst Nana, flattened on her breast, embraced her pillow
+with both arms and subsided into the torpor of her leaden slumber.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Coupeau growled, no longer sane enough to think of launching out a whack. He
+was altogether losing his mind. And really there was no need to call him an
+unprincipled father, for liquor had deprived him of all consciousness of good
+and evil.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Now it was a settled thing. He wasn&rsquo;t sober once in six months; then he
+was laid up and had to go into the Sainte-Anne hospital; a pleasure trip for
+him. The Lorilleuxs said that the Duke of Bowel-Twister had gone to visit his
+estates. At the end of a few weeks he left the asylum, repaired and set
+together again, and then he began to pull himself to bits once more, till he
+was down on his back and needed another mending. In three years he went seven
+times to Sainte-Anne in this fashion. The neighborhood said that his cell was
+kept ready for him. But the worst of the matter was that this obstinate tippler
+demolished himself more and more each time so that from relapse to relapse one
+could foresee the final tumble, the last cracking of this shaky cask, all the
+hoops of which were breaking away, one after the other.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+At the same time, he forgot to improve in appearance; a perfect ghost to look
+at! The poison was having terrible effects. By dint of imbibing alcohol, his
+body shrunk up like the embryos displayed in glass jars in chemical
+laboratories. When he approached a window you could see through his ribs, so
+skinny had he become. Those who knew his age, only forty years just gone,
+shuddered when he passed by, bent and unsteady, looking as old as the streets
+themselves. And the trembling of his hands increased, the right one danced to
+such an extent, that sometimes he had to take his glass between both fists to
+carry it to his lips. Oh! that cursed trembling! It was the only thing that
+worried his addled brains. You could hear him growling ferocious insults
+against those hands of his.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+This last summer, during which Nana usually came home to spend her nights,
+after she had finished knocking about, was especially bad for Coupeau. His
+voice changed entirely as if liquor had set a new music in his throat. He
+became deaf in one ear. Then in a few days his sight grew dim, and he had to
+clutch hold of the stair railings to prevent himself from falling. As for his
+health, he had abominable headaches and dizziness. All on a sudden he was
+seized with acute pains in his arms and legs; he turned pale; was obliged to
+sit down, and remained on a chair witless for hours; indeed, after one such
+attack, his arm remained paralyzed for the whole day. He took to his bed
+several times; he rolled himself up and hid himself under the sheet, breathing
+hard and continuously like a suffering animal. Then the strange scenes of
+Sainte-Anne began again. Suspicious and nervous, worried with a burning fever,
+he rolled about in a mad rage, tearing his blouse and biting the furniture with
+his convulsed jaws; or else he sank into a great state of emotion, complaining
+like a child, sobbing and lamenting because nobody loved him. One night when
+Gervaise and Nana returned home together they were surprised not to find him in
+his bed. He had laid the bolster in his place. And when they discovered him,
+hiding between the bed and the wall, his teeth were chattering, and he related
+that some men had come to murder him. The two women were obliged to put him to
+bed again and quiet him like a child.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Coupeau knew only one remedy, to toss down a pint of spirits; a whack in his
+stomach, which set him on his feet again. This was how he doctored his gripes
+of a morning. His memory had left him long ago, his brain was empty; and he no
+sooner found himself on his feet than he poked fun at illness. He had never
+been ill. Yes, he had got to the point when a fellow kicks the bucket declaring
+that he&rsquo;s quite well. And his wits were going a-wool-gathering in other
+respects too. When Nana came home after gadding about for six weeks or so he
+seemed to fancy she had returned from doing some errand in the neighborhood.
+Often when she was hanging on an acquaintance&rsquo;s arm she met him and
+laughed at him without his recognizing her. In short, he no longer counted for
+anything; she might have sat down on him if she had been at a loss for a chair.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+When the first frosts came Nana took herself off once more under the pretence
+of going to the fruiterer&rsquo;s to see if there were any baked pears. She
+scented winter and didn&rsquo;t care to let her teeth chatter in front of the
+fireless stove. The Coupeaus had called her no good because they had waited for
+the pears. No doubt she would come back again. The other winter she had stayed
+away three weeks to fetch her father two sous&rsquo; worth of tobacco. But the
+months went by and the girl did not show herself. This time she must have
+indulged in a hard gallop. When June arrived she did not even turn up with the
+sunshine. Evidently it was all over, she had found a new meal ticket somewhere
+or other. One day when the Coupeaus were totally broke they sold Nana&rsquo;s
+iron bedstead for six francs, which they drank together at Saint-Ouen. The
+bedstead had been in their way.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+One morning in July Virginie called to Gervaise, who was passing by, and asked
+her to lend a hand in washing up, for Lantier had entertained a couple of
+friends on the day before. And while Gervaise was cleaning up the plates and
+dishes, greasy with the traces of the spread, the hatter, who was still
+digesting in the shop, suddenly called out:
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Say, I saw Nana the other day.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Virginie, who was seated at the counter looking very careworn in front of the
+jars and drawers which were already three parts emptied, jerked her head
+furiously. She restrained herself so as not to say too much, but really it was
+angering her. Lantier was seeing Nana often. Oh! she was by no means sure of
+him; he was a man to do much worse than that, when a fancy for a woman came
+into his head. Madame Lerat, very intimate just then with Virginie, who
+confided in her, had that moment entered the shop, and hearing Lantier&rsquo;s
+remark, she pouted ridiculously, and asked:
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;What do you mean, you saw her?&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Oh, in the street here,&rdquo; answered the hatter, who felt highly
+flattered, and began to laugh and twirl his moustaches. &ldquo;She was in a
+carriage and I was floundering on the pavement. Really it was so, I swear it!
+There&rsquo;s no use denying it, the young fellows of position who are on
+friendly terms with her are terribly lucky!&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+His eyes had brightened and he turned towards Gervaise who was standing in the
+rear of the shop wiping a dish.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Yes, she was in a carriage, and wore such a stylish dress! I
+didn&rsquo;t recognise her, she looked so much like a lady of the upper set,
+with her white teeth and her face as fresh as a flower. It was she who waved
+her glove to me. She has caught a count, I believe. Oh! she&rsquo;s launched
+for good. She can afford to do without any of us; she&rsquo;s head over heels
+in happiness, the little beggar! What a love of a little kitten! No,
+you&rsquo;ve no idea what a little kitten she is!&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Gervaise was still wiping the same plate, although it had long since been clean
+and shiny. Virginie was reflecting, anxious about a couple of bills which fell
+due on the morrow and which she didn&rsquo;t know how to pay; whilst Lantier,
+stout and fat, perspiring the sugar he fed off, ventured his enthusiasm for
+well-dressed little hussies. The shop, which was already three parts eaten up,
+smelt of ruin. Yes, there were only a few more burnt almonds to nibble, a
+little more barley-sugar to suck, to clean the Poissons&rsquo; business out.
+Suddenly, on the pavement over the way, he perceived the policeman, who was on
+duty, pass by all buttoned up with his sword dangling by his side. And this
+made him all the gayer. He compelled Virginie to look at her husband.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Dear me,&rdquo; he muttered, &ldquo;Badingue looks fine this morning!
+Just look, see how stiff he walks. He must have stuck a glass eye in his back
+to surprise people.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+When Gervaise went back upstairs, she found Coupeau seated on the bed, in the
+torpid state induced by one of his attacks. He was looking at the window-panes
+with his dim expressionless eyes. She sat herself down on a chair, tired out,
+her hands hanging beside her dirty skirt; and for a quarter of an hour she
+remained in front of him without saying a word.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;I&rsquo;ve had some news,&rdquo; she muttered at last. &ldquo;Your
+daughter&rsquo;s been seen. Yes, your daughter&rsquo;s precious stylish and
+hasn&rsquo;t any more need of you. She&rsquo;s awfully happy, she is! Ah!
+<i>Mon Dieu!</i> I&rsquo;d give a great deal to be in her place.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Coupeau was still staring at the window-pane. But suddenly he raised his
+ravaged face, and stammered with an idiotic laugh:
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Well, my little lamb, I&rsquo;m not stopping you. You&rsquo;re not yet
+so bad looking when you wash yourself. As folks say, however old a pot may be,
+it ends by finding its lid. And, after all, I wouldn&rsquo;t care if it only
+buttered our bread.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+</div><!--end chapter-->
+
+<div class="chapter">
+
+<h2><a name="link2HCH0012" id="link2HCH0012"></a>
+CHAPTER XII</h2>
+
+<p>
+It must have been the Saturday after quarter day, something like the 12th or
+13th of January&mdash;Gervaise didn&rsquo;t quite know. She was losing her
+wits, for it was centuries since she had had anything warm in her stomach. Ah!
+what an infernal week! A complete clear out. Two loaves of four pounds each on
+Tuesday, which had lasted till Thursday; then a dry crust found the night
+before, and finally not a crumb for thirty-six hours, a real dance before the
+cupboard! What did she know, by the way, what she felt on her back, was the
+frightful cold, a black cold, the sky as grimy as a frying-pan, thick with snow
+which obstinately refused to fall. When winter and hunger are both together in
+your guts, you may tighten your belt as much as you like, it hardly feeds you.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Perhaps Coupeau would bring back some money in the evening. He said that he was
+working. Anything is possible, isn&rsquo;t it? And Gervaise, although she had
+been caught many and many a time, had ended by relying on this coin. After all
+sorts of incidents, she herself couldn&rsquo;t find as much as a duster to wash
+in the whole neighborhood; and even an old lady, whose rooms she did, had just
+given her the sack, charging her with swilling her liqueurs. No one would
+engage her, she was washed up everywhere; and this secretly suited her, for she
+had fallen to that state of indifference when one prefers to croak rather than
+move one&rsquo;s fingers. At all events, if Coupeau brought his pay home they
+would have something warm to eat. And meanwhile, as it wasn&rsquo;t yet noon,
+she remained stretched on the mattress, for one doesn&rsquo;t feel so cold or
+so hungry when one is lying down.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The bed was nothing but a pile of straw in a corner. Bed and bedding had gone,
+piece by piece, to the second-hand dealers of the neighborhood. First she had
+ripped open the mattress to sell handfuls of wool at ten sous a pound. When the
+mattress was empty she got thirty sous for the sack so as to be able to have
+coffee. Everything else had followed. Well, wasn&rsquo;t the straw good enough
+for them?
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Gervaise bent herself like a gun-trigger on the heap of straw, with her clothes
+on and her feet drawn up under her rag of a skirt, so as to keep them warm. And
+huddled up, with her eyes wide open, she turned some scarcely amusing ideas
+over in her mind that morning. Ah! no, they couldn&rsquo;t continue living
+without food. She no longer felt her hunger, only she had a leaden weight on
+her chest and her brain seemed empty. Certainly there was nothing gay to look
+at in the four corners of the hovel. A perfect kennel now, where greyhounds,
+who wear wrappers in the streets, would not even have lived in effigy. Her pale
+eyes stared at the bare walls. Everything had long since gone to
+&ldquo;uncle&rsquo;s.&rdquo; All that remained were the chest of drawers, the
+table and a chair. Even the marble top of the chest of drawers and the drawers
+themselves, had evaporated in the same direction as the bedstead. A fire could
+not have cleaned them out more completely; the little knick-knacks had melted,
+beginning with the ticker, a twelve franc watch, down to the family photos, the
+frames of which had been bought by a woman keeping a second-hand store; a very
+obliging woman, by the way, to whom Gervaise carried a saucepan, an iron, a
+comb and who gave her five, three or two sous in exchange, according to the
+article; enough, at all events to go upstairs again with a bit of bread. But
+now there only remained a broken pair of candle snuffers, which the woman
+refused to give her even a sou for.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Oh! if she could only have sold the rubbish and refuse, the dust and the dirt,
+how speedily she would have opened shop, for the room was filthy to behold! She
+only saw cobwebs in the corners and although cobwebs are good for cuts, there
+are, so far, no merchants who buy them. Then turning her head, abandoning the
+idea of doing a bit of trade, Gervaise gathered herself together more closely
+on her straw, preferring to stare through the window at the snow-laden sky, at
+the dreary daylight, which froze the marrow in her bones.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+What a lot of worry! Though, after all, what was the use of putting herself in
+such a state and puzzling her brains? If she had only been able to have a
+snooze. But her hole of a home wouldn&rsquo;t go out of her mind. Monsieur
+Marescot, the landlord had come in person the day before to tell them that he
+would turn them out into the street if the two quarters&rsquo; rent now overdue
+were not paid during the ensuing week. Well, so he might, they certainly
+couldn&rsquo;t be worse off on the pavement! Fancy this ape, in his overcoat
+and his woolen gloves, coming upstairs to talk to them about rent, as if they
+had had a treasure hidden somewhere!
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Just the same with that brute of a Coupeau, who couldn&rsquo;t come home now
+without beating her; she wished him in the same place as the landlord. She sent
+them all there, wishing to rid herself of everyone, and of life too. She was
+becoming a real storehouse for blows. Coupeau had a cudgel, which he called his
+ass&rsquo;s fan, and he fanned his old woman. You should just have seen him
+giving her abominable thrashings, which made her perspire all over. She was no
+better herself, for she bit and scratched him. Then they stamped about in the
+empty room and gave each other such drubbings as were likely to ease them of
+all taste for bread for good. But Gervaise ended by not caring a fig for these
+thwacks, not more than she did for anything else. Coupeau might celebrate Saint
+Monday for weeks altogether, go off on the spree for months at a time, come
+home mad with liquor, and seek to sharpen her as he said, she had grown
+accustomed to it, she thought him tiresome, but nothing more. It was on these
+occasions that she wished him somewhere else. Yes, somewhere, her beast of a
+man and the Lorilleuxs, the Boches, and the Poissons too; in fact, the whole
+neighborhood, which she had such contempt for. She sent all Paris there with a
+gesture of supreme carelessness, and was pleased to be able to revenge herself
+in this style.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+One could get used to almost anything, but still, it is hard to break the habit
+of eating. That was the one thing that really annoyed Gervaise, the hunger that
+kept gnawing at her insides. Oh, those pleasant little snacks she used to have.
+Now she had fallen low enough to gobble anything she could find.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+On special occasions, she would get waste scraps of meat from the butcher for
+four sous a pound. Blacked and dried out meat that couldn&rsquo;t find a
+purchaser. She would mix this with potatoes for a stew. On other occasions,
+when she had some wine, she treated herself to a sop, a true parrot&rsquo;s
+pottage. Two sous&rsquo; worth of Italian cheese, bushels of white potatoes,
+quarts of dry beans, cooked in their own juice, these also were dainties she
+was not often able to indulge in now. She came down to leavings from low eating
+dens, where for a sou she had a pile of fish-bones, mixed with the parings of
+moldy roast meat. She fell even lower&mdash;she begged a charitable
+eating-house keeper to give her his customers&rsquo; dry crusts, and she made
+herself a bread soup, letting the crusts simmer as long as possible on a
+neighbor&rsquo;s fire. On the days when she was really hungry, she searched
+about with the dogs, to see what might be lying outside the
+tradespeople&rsquo;s doors before the dustmen went by; and thus at times she
+came across rich men&rsquo;s food, rotten melons, stinking mackerel and chops,
+which she carefully inspected for fear of maggots.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Yes, she had come to this. The idea may be a repugnant one to delicate-minded
+folks, but if they hadn&rsquo;t chewed anything for three days running, we
+should hardly see them quarreling with their stomachs; they would go down on
+all fours and eat filth like other people. Ah! the death of the poor, the empty
+entrails, howling hunger, the animal appetite that leads one with chattering
+teeth to fill one&rsquo;s stomach with beastly refuse in this great Paris, so
+bright and golden! And to think that Gervaise used to fill her belly with fat
+goose! Now the thought of it brought tears to her eyes. One day, when Coupeau
+bagged two bread tickets from her to go and sell them and get some liquor, she
+nearly killed him with the blow of a shovel, so hungered and so enraged was she
+by this theft of a bit of bread.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+However, after a long contemplation of the pale sky, she had fallen into a
+painful doze. She dreamt that the snow-laden sky was falling on her, so cruelly
+did the cold pinch. Suddenly she sprang to her feet, awakened with a start by a
+shudder of anguish. <i>Mon Dieu!</i> was she going to die? Shivering and
+haggard she perceived that it was still daylight. Wouldn&rsquo;t the night ever
+come? How long the time seems when the stomach is empty! Hers was waking up in
+its turn and beginning to torture her. Sinking down on the chair, with her head
+bent and her hands between her legs to warm them, she began to think what they
+would have for dinner as soon as Coupeau brought the money home: a loaf, a
+quart of wine and two platefuls of tripe in the Lyonnaise fashion. Three
+o&rsquo;clock struck by father Bazouge&rsquo;s clock. Yes, it was only three
+o&rsquo;clock. Then she began to cry. She would never have strength enough to
+wait until seven. Her body swayed backwards and forwards, she oscillated like a
+child nursing some sharp pain, bending herself double and crushing her stomach
+so as not to feel it. Ah! an accouchement is less painful than hunger! And
+unable to ease herself, seized with rage, she rose and stamped about, hoping to
+send her hunger to sleep by walking it to and fro like an infant. For half an
+hour or so, she knocked against the four corners of the empty room. Then,
+suddenly, she paused with a fixed stare. So much the worse! They might say what
+they liked; she would lick their feet if needs be, but she would go and ask the
+Lorilleuxs to lend her ten sous.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+At winter time, up these stairs of the house, the paupers&rsquo; stairs, there
+was a constant borrowing of ten sous and twenty sous, petty services which
+these hungry beggars rendered each other. Only they would rather have died than
+have applied to the Lorilleuxs, for they knew they were too tight-fisted. Thus
+Gervaise displayed remarkable courage in going to knock at their door. She felt
+so frightened in the passage that she experienced the sudden relief of people
+who ring a dentist&rsquo;s bell.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Come in!&rdquo; cried the chainmaker in a sour voice.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+How warm and nice it was inside. The forge was blazing, its white flame
+lighting up the narrow workroom, whilst Madame Lorilleux set a coil of gold
+wire to heat. Lorilleux, in front of his worktable, was perspiring with the
+warmth as he soldered the links of a chain together. And it smelt nice. Some
+cabbage soup was simmering on the stove, exhaling a steam which turned
+Gervaise&rsquo;s heart topsy-turvy, and almost made her faint.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Ah! it&rsquo;s you,&rdquo; growled Madame Lorilleux, without even asking
+her to sit down. &ldquo;What do you want?&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Gervaise did not answer for a moment. She had recently been on fairly good
+terms with the Lorilleuxs, but she saw Boche sitting by the stove. He seemed
+very much at home, telling funny stories.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;What do you want?&rdquo; repeated Lorilleux.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;You haven&rsquo;t seen Coupeau?&rdquo; Gervaise finally stammered at
+last. &ldquo;I thought he was here.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The chainmakers and the concierge sneered. No, for certain, they hadn&rsquo;t
+seen Coupeau. They didn&rsquo;t stand treat often enough to interest Coupeau.
+Gervaise made an effort and resumed, stuttering:
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;It&rsquo;s because he promised to come home. Yes, he&rsquo;s to bring me
+some money. And as I have absolute need of something&mdash;&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Silence followed. Madame Lorilleux was roughly fanning the fire of the stove;
+Lorilleux had lowered his nose over the bit of chain between his fingers, while
+Boche continued laughing, puffing out his face till it looked like the full
+moon.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;If I only had ten sous,&rdquo; muttered Gervaise, in a low voice.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The silence persisted.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Couldn&rsquo;t you lend me ten sous? Oh! I would return them to you this
+evening!&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Madame Lorilleux turned round and stared at her. Here was a wheedler trying to
+get round them. To-day she asked them for ten sous, to-morrow it would be for
+twenty, and there would be no reason to stop. No, indeed; it would be a warm
+day in winter if they lent her anything.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;But, my dear,&rdquo; cried Madame Lorilleux. &ldquo;You know very well
+that we haven&rsquo;t any money! Look! There&rsquo;s the lining of my pocket.
+You can search us. If we could, it would be with a willing heart, of
+course.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;The heart&rsquo;s always there,&rdquo; growled Lorilleux. &ldquo;Only
+when one can&rsquo;t, one can&rsquo;t.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Gervaise looked very humble and nodded her head approvingly. However, she did
+not take herself off. She squinted at the gold, at the gold tied together
+hanging on the walls, at the gold wire the wife was drawing out with all the
+strength of her little arms, at the gold links lying in a heap under the
+husband&rsquo;s knotty fingers. And she thought that the least bit of this ugly
+black metal would suffice to buy her a good dinner. The workroom was as dirty
+as ever, full of old iron, coal dust and sticky oil stains, half wiped away;
+but now, as Gervaise saw it, it seemed resplendent with treasure, like a money
+changer&rsquo;s shop. And so she ventured to repeat softly: &ldquo;I would
+return them to you, return them without fail. Ten sous wouldn&rsquo;t
+inconvenience you.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Her heart was swelling with the effort she made not to own that she had had
+nothing to eat since the day before. Then she felt her legs give way. She was
+frightened that she might burst into tears, and she still stammered:
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;It would be kind of you! You don&rsquo;t know. Yes, I&rsquo;m reduced to
+that, good Lord&mdash;reduced to that!&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Thereupon the Lorilleuxs pursed their lips and exchanged covert glances. So
+Clump-clump was begging now! Well, the fall was complete. But they did not care
+for that kind of thing by any means. If they had known, they would have
+barricaded the door, for people should always be on their guard against
+beggars&mdash;folks who make their way into apartments under a pretext and
+carry precious objects away with them; and especially so in this place, as
+there was something worth while stealing. One might lay one&rsquo;s fingers no
+matter where, and carry off thirty or forty francs by merely closing the hands.
+They had felt suspicious several times already on noticing how strange Gervaise
+looked when she stuck herself in front of the gold. This time, however, they
+meant to watch her. And as she approached nearer, with her feet on the board,
+the chainmaker roughly called out, without giving any further answer to her
+question: &ldquo;Look out, pest&mdash;take care; you&rsquo;ll be carrying some
+scraps of gold away on the soles of your shoes. One would think you had greased
+them on purpose to make the gold stick to them.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Gervaise slowly drew back. For a moment she leant against a rack, and seeing
+that Madame Lorilleux was looking at her hands, she opened them and showed
+them, saying softly, without the least anger, like a fallen women who accepts
+anything:
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;I have taken nothing; you can look.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+And then she went off, because the strong smell of the cabbage soup and the
+warmth of the workroom made her feel too ill.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Ah! the Lorilleuxs did not detain her. Good riddance; just see if they opened
+the door to her again. They had seen enough of her face. They didn&rsquo;t want
+other people&rsquo;s misery in their rooms, especially when that misery was so
+well deserved. They reveled in their selfish delight at being seated so cozily
+in a warm room, with a dainty soup cooking. Boche also stretched himself,
+puffing with his cheeks still more and more, so much, indeed, that his laugh
+really became indecent. They were all nicely revenged on Clump-clump, for her
+former manners, her blue shop, her spreads, and all the rest. It had all worked
+out just as it should, proving where a love of showing-off would get you.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;So that is the style now? Begging for ten sous,&rdquo; cried Madame
+Lorilleux as soon as Gervaise had gone. &ldquo;Wait a bit; I&rsquo;ll lend her
+ten sous, and no mistake, to go and get drunk with.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Gervaise shuffled along the passage in her slippers, bending her back and
+feeling heavy. On reaching her door she did not open it&mdash;her room
+frightened her. It would be better to walk about, she would learn patience. As
+she passed by she stretched out her neck, peering into Pere Bru&rsquo;s kennel
+under the stairs. There, for instance, was another one who must have a fine
+appetite, for he had breakfasted and dined by heart during the last three days.
+However, he wasn&rsquo;t at home, there was only his hole, and Gervaise felt
+somewhat jealous, thinking that perhaps he had been invited somewhere. Then, as
+she reached the Bijards&rsquo; she heard Lalie moaning, and, as the key was in
+the lock as usual, she opened the door and went in.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;What is the matter?&rdquo; she asked.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The room was very clean. One could see that Lalie had carefully swept it, and
+arranged everything during the morning. Misery might blow into the room as much
+as it liked, carry off the chattels and spread all the dirt and refuse about.
+Lalie, however, came behind and tidied everything, imparting, at least, some
+appearance of comfort within. She might not be rich, but you realized that
+there was a housewife in the place. That afternoon her two little ones,
+Henriette and Jules, had found some old pictures which they were cutting out in
+a corner. But Gervaise was greatly surprised to see Lalie herself in bed,
+looking very pale, with the sheet drawn up to her chin. In bed, indeed, then
+she must be seriously ill!
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;What is the matter with you?&rdquo; inquired Gervaise, feeling anxious.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Lalie no longer groaned. She slowly raised her white eyelids, and tried to
+compel her lips to smile, although they were convulsed by a shudder.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;There&rsquo;s nothing the matter with me,&rdquo; she whispered very
+softly. &ldquo;Really nothing at all.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Then, closing her eyes again, she added with an effort:
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;I made myself too tired during the last few days, and so I&rsquo;m doing
+the idle; I&rsquo;m nursing myself, as you see.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+But her childish face, streaked with livid stains, assumed such an expression
+of anguish that Gervaise, forgetting her own agony, joined her hands and fell
+on her knees near the bed. For the last month she had seen the girl clinging to
+the walls for support when she went about, bent double indeed, by a cough which
+seemed to presage a coffin. Now the poor child could not even cough. She had a
+hiccough and drops of blood oozed from the corners of her mouth.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;It&rsquo;s not my fault if I hardly feel strong,&rdquo; she murmured, as
+if relieved. &ldquo;I&rsquo;ve tired myself to-day, trying to put things to
+rights. It&rsquo;s pretty tidy, isn&rsquo;t it? And I wanted to clean the
+windows as well, but my legs failed me. How stupid! However, when one has
+finished one can go to bed.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+She paused, then said, &ldquo;Pray, see if my little ones are not cutting
+themselves with the scissors.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+And then she relapsed into silence, trembling and listening to a heavy footfall
+which was approaching up the stairs. Suddenly father Bijard brutally opened the
+door. As usual he was far gone, and his eyes shone with the furious madness
+imparted by the vitriol he had swallowed. When he perceived Lalie in bed, he
+tapped on his thighs with a sneer, and took the whip from where it hung.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Ah! by blazes, that&rsquo;s too much,&rdquo; he growled,
+&ldquo;we&rsquo;ll soon have a laugh. So the cows lie down on their straw at
+noon now! Are you poking fun at me, you lazy beggar? Come, quick now, up you
+get!&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+And he cracked the whip over the bed. But the child beggingly replied:
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Pray, papa, don&rsquo;t&mdash;don&rsquo;t strike me. I swear to you you
+will regret it. Don&rsquo;t strike!&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Will you jump up?&rdquo; he roared still louder, &ldquo;or else
+I&rsquo;ll tickle your ribs! Jump up, you little hound!&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Then she softly said, &ldquo;I can&rsquo;t&mdash;do you understand? I&rsquo;m
+going to die.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Gervaise had sprung upon Bijard and torn the whip away from him. He stood
+bewildered in front of the bed. What was the dirty brat talking about? Do girls
+die so young without even having been ill? Some excuse to get sugar out of him
+no doubt. Ah! he&rsquo;d make inquiries, and if she lied, let her look out!
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;You will see, it&rsquo;s the truth,&rdquo; she continued. &ldquo;As long
+as I could I avoided worrying you; but be kind now, and bid me good-bye,
+papa.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Bijard wriggled his nose as if he fancied she was deceiving him. And yet it was
+true she had a singular look, the serious mien of a grown up person. The breath
+of death which passed through the room in some measure sobered him. He gazed
+around like a man awakened from a long sleep, saw the room so tidy, the two
+children clean, playing and laughing. And then he sank on to a chair
+stammering, &ldquo;Our little mother, our little mother.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Those were the only words he could find to say, and yet they were very tender
+ones to Lalie, who had never been much spoiled. She consoled her father. What
+especially worried her was to go off like this without having completely
+brought up the little ones. He would take care of them, would he not? With her
+dying breath she told him how they ought to be cared for and kept clean. But
+stultified, with the fumes of drink seizing hold of him again, he wagged his
+head, watching her with an uncertain stare as she was dying. All kind of things
+were touched in him, but he could find no more to say and he was too utterly
+burnt with liquor to shed a tear.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Listen,&rdquo; resumed Lalie, after a pause. &ldquo;We owe four francs
+and seven sous to the baker; you must pay that. Madame Gaudron borrowed an iron
+of ours, which you must get from her. I wasn&rsquo;t able to make any soup this
+evening, but there&rsquo;s some bread left and you can warm up the
+potatoes.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Till her last rattle, the poor kitten still remained the little mother. Surely
+she could never be replaced! She was dying because she had had, at her age, a
+true mother&rsquo;s reason, because her breast was too small and weak for so
+much maternity. And if her ferocious beast of a father lost his treasure, it
+was his own fault. After kicking the mother to death, hadn&rsquo;t he murdered
+the daughter as well? The two good angels would lie in the pauper&rsquo;s grave
+and all that could be in store for him was to kick the bucket like a dog in the
+gutter.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Gervaise restrained herself not to burst out sobbing. She extended her hands,
+desirous of easing the child, and as the shred of a sheet was falling, she
+wished to tack it up and arrange the bed. Then the dying girl&rsquo;s poor
+little body was seen. Ah! <i>Mon Dieu!</i> what misery! What woe! Stones would
+have wept. Lalie was bare, with only the remnants of a camisole on her
+shoulders by way of chemise; yes, bare, with the grievous, bleeding nudity of a
+martyr. She had no flesh left; her bones seemed to protrude through the skin.
+From her ribs to her thighs there extended a number of violet stripes&mdash;the
+marks of the whip forcibly imprinted on her. A livid bruise, moreover,
+encircled her left arm, as if the tender limb, scarcely larger than a lucifer,
+had been crushed in a vise. There was also an imperfectly closed wound on her
+right leg, left there by some ugly blow and which opened again and again of a
+morning, when she went about doing her errands. From head to foot, indeed, she
+was but one bruise! Oh! this murdering of childhood; those heavy hands crushing
+this lovely girl; how abominable that such weakness should have such a weighty
+cross to bear! Again did Gervaise crouch down, no longer thinking of tucking in
+the sheet, but overwhelmed by the pitiful sight of this martyrdom; and her
+trembling lips seemed to be seeking for words of prayer.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Madame Coupeau,&rdquo; murmured the child, &ldquo;I beg
+you&mdash;&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+With her little arms she tried to draw up the sheet again, ashamed as it were
+for her father. Bijard, as stultified as ever, with his eyes on the corpse
+which was his own work, still wagged his head, but more slowly, like a worried
+animal might do.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+When she had covered Lalie up again, Gervaise felt she could not remain there
+any longer. The dying girl was growing weaker and ceased speaking; all that was
+left to her was her gaze&mdash;the dark look she had had as a resigned and
+thoughtful child and which she now fixed on her two little ones who were still
+cutting out their pictures. The room was growing gloomy and Bijard was working
+off his liquor while the poor girl was in her death agonies. No, no, life was
+too abominable! How frightful it was! How frightful! And Gervaise took herself
+off, and went down the stairs, not knowing what she was doing, her head
+wandering and so full of disgust that she would willingly have thrown herself
+under the wheels of an omnibus to have finished with her own existence.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+As she hastened on, growling against cursed fate, she suddenly found herself in
+front of the place where Coupeau pretended that he worked. Her legs had taken
+her there, and now her stomach began singing its song again, the complaint of
+hunger in ninety verses&mdash;a complaint she knew by heart. However, if she
+caught Coupeau as he left, she would be able to pounce upon the coin at once
+and buy some grub. A short hour&rsquo;s waiting at the utmost; she could surely
+stay that out, though she had sucked her thumbs since the day before.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+She was at the corner of Rue de la Charbonniere and Rue de Chartres. A chill
+wind was blowing and the sky was an ugly leaden grey. The impending snow hung
+over the city but not a flake had fallen as yet. She tried stamping her feet to
+keep warm, but soon stopped as there was no use working up an appetite.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+There was nothing amusing about. The few passers-by strode rapidly along,
+wrapped up in comforters; naturally enough one does not care to tarry when the
+cold is nipping at your heels. However, Gervaise perceived four or five women
+who were mounting guard like herself outside the door of the zinc-works;
+unfortunate creatures of course&mdash;wives watching for the pay to prevent it
+going to the dram-shop. There was a tall creature as bulky as a gendarme
+leaning against the wall, ready to spring on her husband as soon as he showed
+himself. A dark little woman with a delicate humble air was walking about on
+the other side of the way. Another one, a fat creature, had brought her two
+brats with her and was dragging them along, one on either hand, and both of
+them shivering and sobbing. And all these women, Gervaise like the others,
+passed and repassed, exchanging glances, but without speaking to one another. A
+pleasant meeting and no mistake. They didn&rsquo;t need to make friends to
+learn what number they lived at. They could all hang out the same sideboard,
+&ldquo;Misery &amp; Co.&rdquo; It seemed to make one feel even colder to see
+them walk about in silence, passing each other in this terrible January
+weather.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+However, nobody as yet left the zinc-works. But presently one workman appeared,
+then two, and then three, but these were no doubt decent fellows who took their
+pay home regularly, for they jerked their heads significantly as they saw the
+shadows wandering up and down. The tall creature stuck closer than ever to the
+side of the door, and suddenly fell upon a pale little man who was prudently
+poking his head out. Oh! it was soon settled! She searched him and collared his
+coin. Caught, no more money, not even enough to pay for a dram! Then the little
+man, looking very vexed and cast down, followed his gendarme, weeping like a
+child. The workmen were still coming out; and as the fat mother with the two
+brats approached the door, a tall fellow, with a cunning look, who noticed her,
+went hastily inside again to warn her husband; and when the latter arrived he
+had stuffed a couple of cart wheels away, two beautiful new five franc pieces,
+one in each of his shoes. He took one of the brats on his arm, and went off
+telling a variety of lies to his old woman who was complaining. There were
+other workmen also, mournful-looking fellows, who carried in their clinched
+fists the pay for the three or five days&rsquo; work they had done during a
+fortnight, who reproached themselves with their own laziness, and took
+drunkards&rsquo; oaths. But the saddest thing of all was the grief of the dark
+little woman, with the humble, delicate look; her husband, a handsome fellow,
+took himself off under her very nose, and so brutally indeed that he almost
+knocked her down, and she went home alone, stumbling past the shops and weeping
+all the tears in her body.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+At last the defile finished. Gervaise, who stood erect in the middle of the
+street, was still watching the door. The look-out seemed a bad one. A couple of
+workmen who were late appeared on the threshold, but there were still no signs
+of Coupeau. And when she asked the workmen if Coupeau wasn&rsquo;t coming, they
+answered her, being up to snuff, that he had gone off by the back-door with
+Lantimeche. Gervaise understood what this meant. Another of Coupeau&rsquo;s
+lies; she could whistle for him if she liked. Then shuffling along in her
+worn-out shoes, she went slowly down the Rue de la Charbonniere. Her dinner was
+going off in front of her, and she shuddered as she saw it running away in the
+yellow twilight. This time it was all over. Not a copper, not a hope, nothing
+but night and hunger. Ah! a fine night to kick the bucket, this dirty night
+which was falling over her shoulders!
+</p>
+
+<p>
+She was walking heavily up the Rue des Poissonniers when she suddenly heard
+Coupeau&rsquo;s voice. Yes, he was there in the Little Civet, letting My-Boots
+treat him. That comical chap, My-Boots, had been cunning enough at the end of
+last summer to espouse in authentic fashion a lady who, although rather
+advanced in years, had still preserved considerable traces of beauty. She was a
+lady-of-the-evening of the Rue des Martyrs, none of your common street hussies.
+And you should have seen this fortunate mortal, living like a man of means,
+with his hands in his pockets, well clad and well fed. He could hardly be
+recognised, so fat had he grown. His comrades said that his wife had as much
+work as she liked among the gentlemen of her acquaintance. A wife like that and
+a country-house is all one can wish for to embellish one&rsquo;s life. And so
+Coupeau squinted admiringly at My-Boots. Why, the lucky dog even had a gold
+ring on his little finger!
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Gervaise touched Coupeau on the shoulder just as he was coming out of the
+little Civet.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Say, I&rsquo;m waiting; I&rsquo;m hungry! I&rsquo;ve got an empty
+stomach which is all I ever get from you.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+But he silenced her in a capital style, &ldquo;You&rsquo;re hungry, eh? Well,
+eat your fist, and keep the other for to-morrow.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+He considered it highly improper to do the dramatic in other people&rsquo;s
+presence. What, he hadn&rsquo;t worked, and yet the bakers kneaded bread all
+the same. Did she take him for a fool, to come and try to frighten him with her
+stories?
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Do you want me to turn thief?&rdquo; she muttered, in a dull voice.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+My-Boots stroked his chin in conciliatory fashion. &ldquo;No, that&rsquo;s
+forbidden,&rdquo; said he. &ldquo;But when a woman knows how to handle
+herself&mdash;&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+And Coupeau interrupted him to call out &ldquo;Bravo!&rdquo; Yes, a woman
+always ought to know how to handle herself, but his wife had always been a
+helpless thing. It would be her fault if they died on the straw. Then he
+relapsed into his admiration for My-Boots. How awfully fine he looked! A
+regular landlord; with clean linen and swell shoes! They were no common stuff!
+His wife, at all events, knew how to keep the pot boiling!
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The two men walked towards the outer Boulevard, and Gervaise followed them.
+After a pause, she resumed, talking behind Coupeau&rsquo;s back:
+&ldquo;I&rsquo;m hungry; you know, I relied on you. You must find me something
+to nibble.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+He did not answer, and she repeated, in a tone of despairing agony: &ldquo;Is
+that all I get from you?&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;<i>Mon Dieu!</i> I&rsquo;ve no coin,&rdquo; he roared, turning round in
+a fury. &ldquo;Just leave me alone, eh? Or else I&rsquo;ll hit you.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+He was already raising his fist. She drew back, and seemed to make up her mind.
+&ldquo;All right, I&rsquo;ll leave you. I guess I can find a man.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The zinc-worker laughed at this. He pretended to make a joke of the matter, and
+strengthened her purpose without seeming to do so. That was a fine idea of
+hers, and no mistake! In the evening, by gaslight, she might still hook a man.
+He recommended her to try the Capuchin restaurant where one could dine very
+pleasantly in a small private room. And, as she went off along the Boulevard,
+looking pale and furious he called out to her: &ldquo;Listen, bring me back
+some dessert. I like cakes! And if your gentleman is well dressed, ask him for
+an old overcoat. I could use one.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+With these words ringing in her ears, Gervaise walked softly away. But when she
+found herself alone in the midst of the crowd, she slackened her pace. She was
+quite resolute. Between thieving and the other, well she preferred the other;
+for at all events she wouldn&rsquo;t harm any one. No doubt it wasn&rsquo;t
+proper. But what was proper and what was improper was sorely muddled together
+in her brain. When you are dying of hunger, you don&rsquo;t philosophize, you
+eat whatever bread turns up. She had gone along as far as the
+Chaussee-Clignancourt. It seemed as if the night would never come. However, she
+followed the Boulevards like a lady who is taking a stroll before dinner. The
+neighborhood in which she felt so ashamed, so greatly was it being embellished,
+was now full of fresh air.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Lost in the crowd on the broad footway, walking past the little plane trees,
+Gervaise felt alone and abandoned. The vistas of the avenues seemed to empty
+her stomach all the more. And to think that among this flood of people there
+were many in easy circumstances, and yet not a Christian who could guess her
+position, and slip a ten sous piece into her hand! Yes, it was too great and
+too beautiful; her head swam and her legs tottered under this broad expanse of
+grey sky stretched over so vast a space. The twilight had the dirty-yellowish
+tinge of Parisian evenings, a tint that gives you a longing to die at once, so
+ugly does street life seem. The horizon was growing indistinct, assuming a
+mud-colored tinge as it were. Gervaise, who was already weary, met all the
+workpeople returning home. At this hour of the day the ladies in bonnets and
+the well-dressed gentlemen living in the new houses mingled with the people,
+with the files of men and women still pale from inhaling the tainted atmosphere
+of workshops and workrooms. From the Boulevard Magenta and the Rue du
+Faubourg-Poissonniere, came bands of people, rendered breathless by their
+uphill walk. As the omnivans and the cabs rolled by less noiselessly among the
+vans and trucks returning home empty at a gallop, an ever-increasing swarm of
+blouses and blue vests covered the pavement. Commissionaires returned with
+their crotchets on their backs. Two workmen took long strides side by side,
+talking to each other in loud voices, with any amount of gesticulation, but
+without looking at one another; others who were alone in overcoats and caps
+walked along the curbstones with lowered noses; others again came in parties of
+five or six, following each other, with pale eyes and their hands in their
+pockets and not exchanging a word. Some still had their pipes, which had gone
+out between their teeth. Four masons poked their white faces out of the windows
+of a cab which they had hired between them, and on the roof of which their
+mortar-troughs rocked to and fro. House-painters were swinging their pots; a
+zinc-worker was returning laden with a long ladder, with which he almost poked
+people&rsquo;s eyes out; whilst a belated plumber, with his box on his back,
+played the tune of &ldquo;The Good King Dagobert&rdquo; on his little trumpet.
+Ah! the sad music, a fitting accompaniment to the tread of the flock, the tread
+of the weary beasts of burden.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Suddenly on raising her eyes she noticed the old Hotel Boncoeur in front of
+her. After being an all-night cafe, which the police had closed down, the
+little house was now abandoned; the shutters were covered with posters, the
+lantern was broken, and the whole building was rotting and crumbling away from
+top to bottom, with its smudgy claret-colored paint, quite moldy. The
+stationer&rsquo;s and the tobacconist&rsquo;s were still there. In the rear,
+over some low buildings, you could see the leprous facades of several
+five-storied houses rearing their tumble-down outlines against the sky. The
+&ldquo;Grand Balcony&rdquo; dancing hall no longer existed; some sugar-cutting
+works, which hissed continually, had been installed in the hall with the ten
+flaming windows. And yet it was here, in this dirty den&mdash;the Hotel
+Boncoeur&mdash;that the whole cursed life had commenced. Gervaise remained
+looking at the window of the first floor, from which hung a broken shutter, and
+recalled to mind her youth with Lantier, their first rows and the ignoble way
+in which he had abandoned her. Never mind, she was young then, and it all
+seemed gay to her, seen from a distance. Only twenty years. <i>Mon Dieu!</i>
+and yet she had fallen to street-walking. Then the sight of the lodging house
+oppressed her and she walked up the Boulevard in the direction of Montmartre.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The night was gathering, but children were still playing on the heaps of sand
+between the benches. The march past continued, the workgirls went by, trotting
+along and hurrying to make up for the time they had lost in looking in at the
+shop windows; one tall girl, who had stopped, left her hand in that of a big
+fellow, who accompanied her to within three doors of her home; others as they
+parted from each other, made appointments for the night at the &ldquo;Great
+Hall of Folly&rdquo; or the &ldquo;Black Ball.&rdquo; In the midst of the
+groups, piece-workmen went by, carrying their clothes folded under their arms.
+A chimney sweep, harnessed with leather braces, was drawing a cart along, and
+nearly got himself crushed by an omnibus. Among the crowd which was now growing
+scantier, there were several women running with bare heads; after lighting the
+fire, they had come downstairs again and were hastily making their purchases
+for dinner; they jostled the people they met, darted into the bakers&rsquo; and
+the pork butchers&rsquo;, and went off again with all despatch, their
+provisions in their hands. There were little girls of eight years old, who had
+been sent out on errands, and who went along past the shops, pressing long
+loaves of four pounds&rsquo; weight, as tall as they were themselves, against
+their chests, as if these loaves had been beautiful yellow dolls; at times
+these little ones forgot themselves for five minutes or so, in front of some
+pictures in a shop window, and rested their cheeks against the bread. Then the
+flow subsided, the groups became fewer and farther between, the working classes
+had gone home; and as the gas blazed now that the day&rsquo;s toil was over,
+idleness and amusement seemed to wake up.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Ah! yes; Gervaise had finished her day! She was wearier even than all this mob
+of toilers who had jostled her as they went by. She might lie down there and
+croak, for work would have nothing more to do with her, and she had toiled
+enough during her life to say: &ldquo;Whose turn now? I&rsquo;ve had
+enough.&rdquo; At present everyone was eating. It was really the end, the sun
+had blown out its candle, the night would be a long one. <i>Mon Dieu!</i> To
+stretch one&rsquo;s self at one&rsquo;s ease and never get up again; to think
+one had put one&rsquo;s tools by for good and that one could ruminate like a
+cow forever! That&rsquo;s what is good, after tiring one&rsquo;s self out for
+twenty years! And Gervaise, as hunger twisted her stomach, thought in spite of
+herself of the fete days, the spreads and the revelry of her life. Of one
+occasion especially, an awfully cold day, a mid-Lent Thursday. She had enjoyed
+herself wonderfully well. She was very pretty, fair-haired and fresh looking at
+that time. Her wash-house in the Rue Neuve had chosen her as queen in spite of
+her leg. And then they had had an outing on the boulevards in carts decked with
+greenery, in the midst of stylish people who ogled her. Real gentlemen put up
+their glasses as if she had been a true queen. In the evening there was a
+wonderful spread, and then they had danced till daylight. Queen; yes Queen!
+With a crown and a sash for twenty-four hours&mdash;twice round the clock! And
+now oppressed by hunger, she looked on the ground, as if she were seeking for
+the gutter in which she had let her fallen majesty tumble.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+She raised her eyes again. She was in front of the slaughter-houses which were
+being pulled down; through the gaps in the facade one could see the dark,
+stinking courtyards, still damp with blood. And when she had gone down the
+Boulevard again, she also saw the Lariboisiere Hospital, with its long grey
+wall, above which she could distinguish the mournful, fan-like wings, pierced
+with windows at even distances. A door in the wall filled the neighborhood with
+dread; it was the door of the dead in solid oak, and without a crack, as stern
+and as silent as a tombstone. Then to escape her thoughts, she hurried further
+down till she reached the railway bridge. The high parapets of riveted
+sheet-iron hid the line from view; she could only distinguish a corner of the
+station standing out against the luminous horizon of Paris, with a vast roof
+black with coal-dust. Through the clear space she could hear the engines
+whistling and the cars being shunted, in token of colossal hidden activity.
+Then a train passed by, leaving Paris, with puffing breath and a growing
+rumble. And all she perceived of this train was a white plume, a sudden gust of
+steam which rose above the parapet and then evaporated. But the bridge had
+shaken, and she herself seemed impressed by this departure at full speed. She
+turned round as if to follow the invisible engine, the noise of which was dying
+away.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+She caught a glimpse of open country through a gap between tall buildings. Oh,
+if only she could have taken a train and gone away, far away from this poverty
+and suffering. She might have started an entirely new life! Then she turned to
+look at the posters on the bridge sidings. One was on pretty blue paper and
+offered a fifty-franc reward for a lost dog. Someone must have really loved
+that dog!
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Gervaise slowly resumed her walk. In the smoky fog which was falling, the gas
+lamps were being lighted up; and the long avenues, which had grown bleak and
+indistinct, suddenly showed themselves plainly again, sparkling to their full
+length and piercing through the night, even to the vague darkness of the
+horizon. A great gust swept by; the widened spaces were lighted up with girdles
+of little flames, shining under the far-stretching moonless sky. It was the
+hour when, from one end of the Boulevard to the other, the dram-shops and the
+dancing-halls flamed gayly as the first glasses were merrily drunk and the
+first dance began. It was the great fortnightly pay-day, and the pavement was
+crowded with jostling revelers on the spree. There was a breath of merrymaking
+in the air&mdash;deuced fine revelry, but not objectionable so far. Fellows
+were filling themselves in the eating-houses; through the lighted windows you
+could see people feeding, with their mouths full and laughing without taking
+the trouble to swallow first. Drunkards were already installed in the
+wineshops, squabbling and gesticulating. And there was a cursed noise on all
+sides, voices shouting amid the constant clatter of feet on the pavement.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Say, are you coming to sip?&rdquo; &ldquo;Make haste, old man;
+I&rsquo;ll pay for a glass of bottled wine.&rdquo; &ldquo;Here&rsquo;s Pauline!
+Shan&rsquo;t we just laugh!&rdquo; The doors swung to and fro, letting a smell
+of wine and a sound of cornet playing escape into the open air. There was a
+gathering in front of Pere Colombe&rsquo;s l&rsquo;Assommoir, which was lighted
+up like a cathedral for high mass. <i>Mon Dieu!</i> you would have said a real
+ceremony was going on, for several capital fellows, with rounded paunches and
+swollen cheeks, looking for all the world like professional choristers, were
+singing inside. They were celebrating Saint-Pay, of course&mdash;a very amiable
+saint, who no doubt keeps the cash box in Paradise. Only, on seeing how gaily
+the evening began, the retired petty tradesmen who had taken their wives out
+for a stroll wagged their heads, and repeated that there would be any number of
+drunken men in Paris that night. And the night stretched very dark, dead-like
+and icy, above this revelry, perforated only with lines of gas lamps extending
+to the four corners of heaven.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Gervaise stood in front of l&rsquo;Assommoir, thinking that if she had had a
+couple of sous she could have gone inside and drunk a dram. No doubt a dram
+would have quieted her hunger. Ah! what a number of drams she had drunk in her
+time! Liquor seemed good stuff to her after all. And from outside she watched
+the drunk-making machine, realizing that her misfortune was due to it, and yet
+dreaming of finishing herself off with brandy on the day she had some coin. But
+a shudder passed through her hair as she saw it was now almost dark. Well, the
+night time was approaching. She must have some pluck and sell herself coaxingly
+if she didn&rsquo;t wish to kick the bucket in the midst of the general
+revelry. Looking at other people gorging themselves didn&rsquo;t precisely fill
+her own stomach. She slackened her pace again and looked around her. There was
+a darker shade under the trees. Few people passed along, only folks in a hurry,
+who swiftly crossed the Boulevards. And on the broad, dark, deserted footway,
+where the sound of the revelry died away, women were standing and waiting. They
+remained for long intervals motionless, patient and as stiff-looking as the
+scrubby little plane trees; then they slowly began to move, dragging their
+slippers over the frozen soil, taking ten steps or so and then waiting again,
+rooted as it were to the ground. There was one of them with a huge body and
+insect-like arms and legs, wearing a black silk rag, with a yellow scarf over
+her head; there was another one, tall and bony, who was bareheaded and wore a
+servant&rsquo;s apron; and others, too&mdash;old ones plastered up and young
+ones so dirty that a ragpicker would not have picked them up. However, Gervaise
+tried to learn what to do by imitating them; girlish-like emotion tightened her
+throat; she was hardly aware whether she felt ashamed or not; she seemed to be
+living in a horrible dream. For a quarter of an hour she remained standing
+erect. Men hurried by without even turning their heads. Then she moved about in
+her turn, and venturing to accost a man who was whistling with his hands in his
+pockets, she murmured, in a strangled voice:
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Sir, listen a moment&mdash;&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The man gave her a side glance and then went off, whistling all the louder.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Gervaise grew bolder, and, with her stomach empty, she became absorbed in this
+chase, fiercely rushing after her dinner, which was still running away. She
+walked about for a long while, without thinking of the flight of time or of the
+direction she took. Around her the dark, mute women went to and fro under the
+trees like wild beasts in a cage. They stepped out of the shade like
+apparitions, and passed under the light of a gas lamp with their pale masks
+fully apparent; then they grew vague again as they went off into the darkness,
+with a white strip of petticoat swinging to and fro. Men let themselves be
+stopped at times, talked jokingly, and then started off again laughing. Others
+would quietly follow a woman to her room, discreetly, ten paces behind. There
+was a deal of muttering, quarreling in an undertone and furious bargaining,
+which suddenly subsided into profound silence. And as far as Gervaise went she
+saw these women standing like sentinels in the night. They seemed to be placed
+along the whole length of the Boulevard. As soon as she met one she saw another
+twenty paces further on, and the file stretched out unceasingly. Entire Paris
+was guarded. She grew enraged on finding herself disdained, and changing her
+place, she now perambulated between the Chaussee de Clignancourt and the Grand
+Rue of La Chapelle. All were beggars.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Sir, just listen.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+But the men passed by. She started from the slaughter-houses, which stank of
+blood. She glanced on her way at the old Hotel Boncoeur, now closed. She passed
+in front of the Lariboisiere Hospital, and mechanically counted the number of
+windows that were illuminated with a pale quiet glimmer, like that of
+night-lights at the bedside of some agonizing sufferers. She crossed the
+railway bridge as the trains rushed by with a noisy rumble, rending the air in
+twain with their shrill whistling! Ah! how sad everything seemed at night-time!
+Then she turned on her heels again and filled her eyes with the sight of the
+same houses, doing this ten and twenty times without pausing, without resting
+for a minute on a bench. No; no one wanted her. Her shame seemed to be
+increased by this contempt. She went down towards the hospital again, and then
+returned towards the slaughter-houses. It was her last promenade&mdash;from the
+blood-stained courtyards, where animals were slaughtered, down to the pale
+hospital wards, where death stiffened the patients stretched between the
+sheets. It was between these two establishments that she had passed her life.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Sir, just listen.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+But suddenly she perceived her shadow on the ground. When she approached a
+gas-lamp it gradually became less vague, till it stood out at last in full
+force&mdash;an enormous shadow it was, positively grotesque, so portly had she
+become. Her stomach, breast and hips, all equally flabby jostled together as it
+were. She walked with such a limp that the shadow bobbed almost topsy-turvy at
+every step she took; it looked like a real Punch! Then as she left the street
+lamp behind her, the Punch grew taller, becoming in fact gigantic, filling the
+whole Boulevard, bobbing to and fro in such style that it seemed fated to smash
+its nose against the trees or the houses. <i>Mon Dieu!</i> how frightful she
+was! She had never realised her disfigurement so thoroughly. And she could not
+help looking at her shadow; indeed, she waited for the gas-lamps, still
+watching the Punch as it bobbed about. Ah! she had a pretty companion beside
+her! What a figure! It ought to attract the men at once! And at the thought of
+her unsightliness, she lowered her voice, and only just dared to stammer behind
+the passers-by:
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Sir, just listen.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+It was now getting quite late. Matters were growing bad in the neighborhood.
+The eating-houses had closed and voices, gruff with drink, could be heard
+disputing in the wineshops. Revelry was turning to quarreling and fisticuffs. A
+big ragged chap roared out, &ldquo;I&rsquo;ll knock yer to bits; just count yer
+bones.&rdquo; A large woman had quarreled with a fellow outside a dancing
+place, and was calling him &ldquo;dirty blackguard&rdquo; and &ldquo;lousy
+bum,&rdquo; whilst he on his side just muttered under his breath. Drink seemed
+to have imparted a fierce desire to indulge in blows, and the passers-by, who
+were now less numerous, had pale contracted faces. There was a battle at last;
+one drunken fellow came down on his back with all four limbs raised in the air,
+whilst his comrade, thinking he had done for him, ran off with his heavy shoes
+clattering over the pavement. Groups of men sang dirty songs and then there
+would be long silences broken only by hiccoughs or the thud of a drunk falling
+down.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Gervaise still hobbled about, going up and down, with the idea of walking
+forever. At times, she felt drowsy and almost went to sleep, rocked, as it
+were, by her lame leg; then she looked round her with a start, and noticed she
+had walked a hundred yards unconsciously. Her feet were swelling in her ragged
+shoes. The last clear thought that occupied her mind was that her hussy of a
+daughter was perhaps eating oysters at that very moment. Then everything became
+cloudy; and, albeit, she remained with open eyes, it required too great an
+effort for her to think. The only sensation that remained to her, in her utter
+annihilation, was that it was frightfully cold, so sharply, mortally cold, she
+had never known the like before. Why, even dead people could not feel so cold
+in their graves. With an effort she raised her head, and something seemed to
+lash her face. It was the snow, which had at last decided to fall from the
+smoky sky&mdash;fine thick snow, which the breeze swept round and round. For
+three days it had been expected and what a splendid moment it chose to appear.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Woken up by the first gusts, Gervaise began to walk faster. Eager to get home,
+men were running along, with their shoulders already white. And as she suddenly
+saw one who, on the contrary, was coming slowly towards her under the trees,
+she approached him and again said: &ldquo;Sir, just listen&mdash;&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The man has stopped. But he did not seem to have heard her. He held out his
+hand, and muttered in a low voice: &ldquo;Charity, if you please!&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+They looked at one another. Ah! <i>Mon Dieu!</i> They were reduced to
+this&mdash;Pere Bru begging, Madame Coupeau walking the streets! They remained
+stupefied in front of each other. They could join hands as equals now. The old
+workman had prowled about the whole evening, not daring to stop anyone, and the
+first person he accosted was as hungry as himself. Lord, was it not pitiful! To
+have toiled for fifty years and be obliged to beg! To have been one of the most
+prosperous laundresses in the Rue de la Goutte-d&rsquo;Or and to end beside the
+gutter! They still looked at one another. Then, without saying a word, they
+went off in different directions under the lashing snow.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+It was a perfect tempest. On these heights, in the midst of this open space,
+the fine snow revolved round and round as if the wind came from the four
+corners of heaven. You could not see ten paces off, everything was confused in
+the midst of this flying dust. The surroundings had disappeared, the Boulevard
+seemed to be dead, as if the storm had stretched the silence of its white sheet
+over the hiccoughs of the last drunkards. Gervaise still went on, blinded,
+lost. She felt her way by touching the trees. As she advanced the gas-lamps
+shone out amidst the whiteness like torches. Then, suddenly, whenever she
+crossed an open space, these lights failed her; she was enveloped in the
+whirling snow, unable to distinguish anything to guide her. Below stretched the
+ground, vaguely white; grey walls surrounded her, and when she paused,
+hesitating and turning her head, she divined that behind this icy veil extended
+the immense avenue with interminable vistas of gas-lamps&mdash;the black and
+deserted Infinite of Paris asleep.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+She was standing where the outer Boulevard meets the Boulevards Magenta and
+Ornano, thinking of lying down on the ground, when suddenly she heard a
+footfall. She began to run, but the snow blinded her, and the footsteps went
+off without her being able to tell whether it was to the right or to the left.
+At last, however, she perceived a man&rsquo;s broad shoulders, a dark form
+which was disappearing amid the snow. Oh! she wouldn&rsquo;t let this man get
+away. And she ran on all the faster, reached him, and caught him by the blouse:
+&ldquo;Sir, sir, just listen.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The man turned round. It was Goujet.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+So now she had accosted Golden-Beard. But what had she done on earth to be
+tortured like this by Providence? It was the crowning blow&mdash;to stumble
+against Goujet, and be seen by her blacksmith friend, pale and begging, like a
+common street walker. And it happened just under a gas-lamp; she could see her
+deformed shadow swaying on the snow like a real caricature. You would have said
+she was drunk. <i>Mon Dieu!</i> not to have a crust of bread, or a drop of wine
+in her body, and to be taken for a drunken women! It was her own fault, why did
+she booze? Goujet no doubt thought she had been drinking, and that she was up
+to some nasty pranks.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+He looked at her while the snow scattered daisies over his beautiful yellow
+beard. Then as she lowered her head and stepped back he detained her.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Come,&rdquo; said he.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+And he walked on first. She followed him. They both crossed the silent
+district, gliding noiselessly along the walls. Poor Madame Goujet had died of
+rheumatism in the month of October. Goujet still resided in the little house in
+the Rue Neuve, living gloomily alone. On this occasion he was belated because
+he had sat up nursing a wounded comrade. When he had opened the door and
+lighted a lamp, he turned towards Gervaise, who had remained humbly on the
+threshold. Then, in a low voice, as if he were afraid his mother could still
+hear him, he exclaimed, &ldquo;Come in.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The first room, Madame Goujet&rsquo;s, was piously preserved in the state she
+had left it. On a chair near the window lay the tambour by the side of the
+large arm-chair, which seemed to be waiting for the old lace-worker. The bed
+was made, and she could have stretched herself beneath the sheets if she had
+left the cemetery to come and spend the evening with her child. There was
+something solemn, a perfume of honesty and goodness about the room.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Come in,&rdquo; repeated the blacksmith in a louder tone.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+She went in, half frightened, like a disreputable woman gliding into a
+respectable place. He was quite pale, and trembled at the thought of ushering a
+woman like this into his dead mother&rsquo;s home. They crossed the room on
+tip-toe, as if they were ashamed to be heard. Then when he had pushed Gervaise
+into his own room he closed the door. Here he was at home. It was the narrow
+closet she was acquainted with; a schoolgirl&rsquo;s room, with the little iron
+bedstead hung with white curtains. On the walls the engravings cut out of
+illustrated newspapers had gathered and spread, and they now reached to the
+ceiling. The room looked so pure that Gervaise did not dare to advance, but
+retreated as far as she could from the lamp. Then without a word, in a
+transport as it were, he tried to seize hold of her and press her in his arms.
+But she felt faint and murmured: &ldquo;Oh! <i>Mon Dieu!</i> Oh, <i>mon
+Dieu!</i>&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The fire in the stove, having been covered with coke-dust, was still alight,
+and the remains of a stew which Goujet had put to warm, thinking he should
+return to dinner, was smoking in front of the cinders. Gervaise, who felt her
+numbness leave her in the warmth of this room, would have gone down on all
+fours to eat out of the saucepan. Her hunger was stronger than her will; her
+stomach seemed rent in two; and she stooped down with a sigh. Goujet had
+realized the truth. He placed the stew on the table, cut some bread, and poured
+her out a glass of wine.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Thank you! Thank you!&rdquo; said she. &ldquo;Oh, how kind you are!
+Thank you!&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+She stammered; she could hardly articulate. When she caught hold of her fork
+she began to tremble so acutely that she let it fall again. The hunger that
+possessed her made her wag her head as if senile. She carried the food to her
+mouth with her fingers. As she stuffed the first potato into her mouth, she
+burst out sobbing. Big tears coursed down her cheeks and fell onto her bread.
+She still ate, gluttonously devouring this bread thus moistened by her tears,
+and breathing very hard all the while. Goujet compelled her to drink to prevent
+her from stifling, and her glass chinked, as it were, against her teeth.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Will you have some more bread?&rdquo; he asked in an undertone.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+She cried, she said &ldquo;no,&rdquo; she said &ldquo;yes,&rdquo; she
+didn&rsquo;t know. Ah! how nice and yet how painful it is to eat when one is
+starving.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+And standing in front of her, Goujet looked at her all the while; under the
+bright light cast by the lamp-shade he could see her well. How aged and altered
+she seemed! The heat was melting the snow on her hair and clothes, and she was
+dripping. Her poor wagging head was quite grey; there were any number of grey
+locks which the wind had disarranged. Her neck sank into her shoulders and she
+had become so fat and ugly you might have cried on noticing the change. He
+recollected their love, when she was quite rosy, working with her irons, and
+showing the child-like crease which set such a charming necklace round her
+throat. In those times he had watched her for hours, glad just to look at her.
+Later on she had come to the forge, and there they had enjoyed themselves
+whilst he beat the iron, and she stood by watching his hammer dance. How often
+at night, with his head buried in his pillow, had he dreamed of holding her in
+his arms.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Gervaise rose; she had finished. She remained for a moment with her head
+lowered, and ill at ease. Then, thinking she detected a gleam in his eyes, she
+raised her hand to her jacket and began to unfasten the first button. But
+Goujet had fallen on his knees, and taking hold of her hands, he exclaimed
+softly:
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;I love you, Madame Gervaise; oh! I love you still, and in spite of
+everything, I swear it to you!&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Don&rsquo;t say that, Monsieur Goujet!&rdquo; she cried, maddened to see
+him like this at her feet. &ldquo;No, don&rsquo;t say that; you grieve me too
+much.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+And as he repeated that he could never love twice in his life, she became yet
+more despairing.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;No, no, I am too ashamed. For the love of God get up. It is my place to
+be on the ground.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+He rose, he trembled all over and stammered: &ldquo;Will you allow me to kiss
+you?&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Overcome with surprise and emotion she could not speak, but she assented with a
+nod of the head. After all she was his; he could do what he chose with her. But
+he merely kissed her.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;That suffices between us, Madame Gervaise,&rdquo; he muttered. &ldquo;It
+sums up all our friendship, does it not?&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+He had kissed her on the forehead, on a lock of her grey hair. He had not
+kissed anyone since his mother&rsquo;s death. His sweetheart Gervaise alone
+remained to him in life. And then, when he had kissed her with so much respect,
+he fell back across his bed with sobs rising in his throat. And Gervaise could
+not remain there any longer. It was too sad and too abominable to meet again
+under such circumstances when one loved. &ldquo;I love you, Monsieur
+Goujet,&rdquo; she exclaimed. &ldquo;I love you dearly, also. Oh! it
+isn&rsquo;t possible you still love me. Good-bye, good-bye; it would smother us
+both; it would be more than we could stand.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+And she darted through Madame Goujet&rsquo;s room and found herself outside on
+the pavement again. When she recovered her senses she had rung at the door in
+the Rue de la Goutte-d&rsquo;Or and Boche was pulling the string. The house was
+quite dark, and in the black night the yawning, dilapidated porch looked like
+an open mouth. To think that she had been ambitious of having a corner in this
+barracks! Had her ears been stopped up then, that she had not heard the cursed
+music of despair which sounded behind the walls? Since she had set foot in the
+place she had begun to go down hill. Yes, it must bring bad luck to shut
+oneself up in these big workmen&rsquo;s houses; the cholera of misery was
+contagious there. That night everyone seemed to have kicked the bucket. She
+only heard the Boches snoring on the right-hand side, while Lantier and
+Virginie on the left were purring like a couple of cats who were not asleep,
+but have their eyes closed and feel warm. In the courtyard she fancied she was
+in a perfect cemetery; the snow paved the ground with white; the high
+frontages, livid grey in tint, rose up unlighted like ruined walls, and not a
+sigh could be heard. It seemed as if a whole village, stiffened with cold and
+hunger, were buried here. She had to step over a black gutter&mdash;water from
+the dye-works&mdash;which smoked and streaked the whiteness of the snow with
+its muddy course. It was the color of her thoughts. The beautiful light blue
+and light pink waters had long since flowed away.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Then, whilst ascending the six flights of stairs in the dark, she could not
+prevent herself from laughing; an ugly laugh which hurt her. She recalled her
+ideal of former days: to work quietly, always have bread to eat and a tidy
+house to sleep in, to bring up her children, not to be beaten and to die in her
+bed. No, really, it was comical how all that was becoming realized! She no
+longer worked, she no longer ate, she slept on filth, her husband frequented
+all sorts of wineshops, and her husband drubbed her at all hours of the day;
+all that was left for her to do was to die on the pavement, and it would not
+take long if on getting into her room, she could only pluck up courage to fling
+herself out of the window. Was it not enough to make one think that she had
+hoped to earn thirty thousand francs a year, and no end of respect? Ah! really,
+in this life it is no use being modest; one only gets sat upon. Not even pap
+and a nest, that is the common lot.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+What increased her ugly laugh was the recollection of her grand hope of
+retiring into the country after twenty years passed in ironing. Well! she was
+on her way to the country. She was going to have her green corner in the
+Pere-Lachaise cemetery.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+When she entered the passage she was like a mad-woman. Her poor head was
+whirling round. At heart her great grief was at having bid the blacksmith an
+eternal farewell. All was ended between them; they would never see each other
+more. Then, besides that, all her other thoughts of misfortune pressed upon
+her, and almost caused her head to split. As she passed she poked her nose in
+at the Bijards&rsquo; and beheld Lalie dead, with a look of contentment on her
+face at having at last been laid out and slumbering forever. Ah, well! children
+were luckier than grown-up people. And, as a glimmer of light passed under old
+Bazouge&rsquo;s door, she walked boldly in, seized with a mania for going off
+on the same journey as the little one.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+That old joker, Bazouge, had come home that night in an extraordinary state of
+gaiety. He had had such a booze that he was snoring on the ground in spite of
+the temperature, and that no doubt did not prevent him from dreaming something
+pleasant, for he seemed to be laughing from his stomach as he slept. The
+candle, which he had not put out, lighted up his old garments, his black cloak,
+which he had drawn over his knees as though it had been a blanket.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+On beholding him Gervaise uttered such a deep wailing that he awoke.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;<i>Mon Dieu!</i> shut the door! It&rsquo;s so cold! Ah! it&rsquo;s you!
+What&rsquo;s the matter? What do you want?&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Then, Gervaise, stretching out her arms, no longer knowing what she stuttered,
+began passionately to implore him:
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Oh! take me away! I&rsquo;ve had enough; I want to go off. You
+mustn&rsquo;t bear me any grudge. I didn&rsquo;t know. One never knows until
+one&rsquo;s ready. Oh, yes; one&rsquo;s glad to go one day! Take me away! Take
+me away and I shall thank you!&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+She fell on her knees, all shaken with a desire which caused her to turn
+ghastly pale. Never before had she thus dragged herself at a man&rsquo;s feet.
+Old Bazouge&rsquo;s ugly mug, with his mouth all on one side and his hide
+begrimed with the dust of funerals, seemed to her as beautiful and resplendent
+as a sun. The old fellow, who was scarcely awake thought, however, that it was
+some sort of bad joke.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Look here,&rdquo; murmured he, &ldquo;no jokes!&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Take me away,&rdquo; repeated Gervaise more ardently still. &ldquo;You
+remember, I knocked one evening against the partition; then I said that it
+wasn&rsquo;t true, because I was still a fool. But see! Give me your hands.
+I&rsquo;m no longer frightened. Take me away to by-by; you&rsquo;ll see how
+still I&rsquo;ll be. Oh! sleep, that&rsquo;s all I care for. Oh! I&rsquo;ll
+love you so much!&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Bazouge, ever gallant, thought that he ought not to be hasty with a lady who
+appeared to have taken such a fancy to him. She was falling to pieces, but all
+the same, what remained was very fine, especially when she was excited.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;What you say is very true,&rdquo; said he in a convinced manner.
+&ldquo;I packed up three more to-day who would only have been too glad to have
+given me something for myself, could they but have got their hands to their
+pockets. But, little woman, it&rsquo;s not so easily settled as all
+that&mdash;&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Take me away, take me away,&rdquo; continued Gervaise, &ldquo;I want to
+die.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Ah! but there&rsquo;s a little operation to be gone through
+beforehand&mdash;you know, glug!&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+And he made a noise in his throat, as though swallowing his tongue. Then,
+thinking it a good joke, he chuckled.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Gervaise slowly rose to her feet. So he too could do nothing for her. She went
+to her room and threw herself on her straw, feeling stupid, and regretting she
+had eaten. Ah! no indeed, misery did not kill quickly enough.
+</p>
+
+</div><!--end chapter-->
+
+<div class="chapter">
+
+<h2><a name="link2HCH0013" id="link2HCH0013"></a>
+CHAPTER XIII</h2>
+
+<p>
+That night Coupeau went on a spree. Next day, Gervaise received ten francs from
+her son Etienne, who was a mechanic on some railway. The youngster sent her a
+few francs from time to time, knowing that they were not very well off at home.
+She made some soup, and ate it all alone, for that scoundrel Coupeau did not
+return on the morrow. On Monday he was still absent, and on Tuesday also. The
+whole week went by. Ah, it would be good luck if some woman took him in.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+On Sunday Gervaise received a printed document. It was to inform her that her
+husband was dying at the Sainte-Anne asylum.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Gervaise did not disturb herself. He knew the way; he could very well get home
+from the asylum by himself. They had cured him there so often that they could
+once more do him the sorry service of putting him on his pins again. Had she
+not heard that very morning that for the week before Coupeau had been seen as
+round as a ball, rolling about Belleville from one dram shop to another in the
+company of My-Boots. Exactly so; and it was My-Boots, too, who stood treat. He
+must have hooked his missus&rsquo;s stocking with all the savings gained at
+very hard work. It wasn&rsquo;t clean money they had used, but money that could
+infect them with any manner of vile diseases. Well, anyway, they hadn&rsquo;t
+thought to invite her for a drink. If you wanted to drink by yourself, you
+could croak by yourself.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+However, on Monday, as Gervaise had a nice little meal planned for the evening,
+the remains of some beans and a pint of wine, she pretended to herself that a
+walk would give her an appetite. The letter from the asylum which she had left
+lying on the bureau bothered her. The snow had melted, the day was mild and
+grey and on the whole fine, with just a slight keenness in the air which was
+invigorating. She started at noon, for her walk was a long one. She had to
+cross Paris and her bad leg always slowed her. With that the streets were
+crowded; but the people amused her; she reached her destination very
+pleasantly. When she had given her name, she was told a most astounding story
+to the effect that Coupeau had been fished out of the Seine close to the
+Pont-Neuf. He had jumped over the parapet, under the impression that a bearded
+man was barring his way. A fine jump, was it not? And as for finding out how
+Coupeau got to be on the Pont-Neuf, that was a matter he could not even explain
+himself.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+One of the keepers escorted Gervaise. She was ascending a staircase, when she
+heard howlings which made her shiver to her very bones.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;He&rsquo;s playing a nice music, isn&rsquo;t he?&rdquo; observed the
+keeper.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Who is?&rdquo; asked she.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Why, your old man! He&rsquo;s been yelling like that ever since the day
+before yesterday; and he dances, you&rsquo;ll just see.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+<i>Mon Dieu!</i> what a sight! She stood as one transfixed. The cell was padded
+from the floor to the ceiling. On the floor there were two straw mats, one
+piled on top of the other; and in a corner were spread a mattress and a
+bolster, nothing more. Inside there Coupeau was dancing and yelling, his blouse
+in tatters and his limbs beating the air. He wore the mask of one about to die.
+What a breakdown! He bumped up against the window, then retired backwards,
+beating time with his arms and shaking his hands as though he were trying to
+wrench them off and fling them in somebody&rsquo;s face. One meets with
+buffoons in low dancing places who imitate the delirium tremens, only they
+imitate it badly. One must see this drunkard&rsquo;s dance if one wishes to
+know what it is like when gone through in earnest. The song also has its
+merits, a continuous yell worthy of carnival-time, a mouth wide open uttering
+the same hoarse trombone notes for hours together. Coupeau had the howl of a
+beast with a crushed paw. Strike up, music! Gentlemen, choose your partners!
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;<i>Mon Dieu!</i> what is the matter with him? What is the matter with
+him?&rdquo; repeated Gervaise, seized with fear.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+A house surgeon, a big fair fellow with a rosy countenance, and wearing a white
+apron, was quietly sitting taking notes. The case was a curious one; the doctor
+did not leave the patient.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Stay a while if you like,&rdquo; said he to the laundress; &ldquo;but
+keep quiet. Try and speak to him, he will not recognise you.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Coupeau indeed did not even appear to see his wife. She had only had a bad view
+of him on entering, he was wriggling about so much. When she looked him full in
+the face, she stood aghast. <i>Mon Dieu!</i> was it possible he had a
+countenance like that, his eyes full of blood and his lips covered with scabs?
+She would certainly never have known him. To begin with, he was making too many
+grimaces, without saying why, his mouth suddenly out of all shape, his nose
+curled up, his cheeks drawn in, a perfect animal&rsquo;s muzzle. His skin was
+so hot the air steamed around him; and his hide was as though varnished,
+covered with a heavy sweat which trickled off him. In his mad dance, one could
+see all the same that he was not at his ease, his head was heavy and his limbs
+ached.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Gervaise drew near to the house surgeon, who was strumming a tune with the tips
+of his fingers on the back of his chair.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Tell me, sir, it&rsquo;s serious then this time?&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The house surgeon nodded his head without answering.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Isn&rsquo;t he jabbering to himself? Eh! don&rsquo;t you hear?
+What&rsquo;s it about?
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;About things he sees,&rdquo; murmured the young man. &ldquo;Keep quiet,
+let me listen.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Coupeau was speaking in a jerky voice. A glimmer of amusement lit up his eyes.
+He looked on the floor, to the right, to the left, and turned about as though
+he had been strolling in the Bois de Vincennes, conversing with himself.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Ah! that&rsquo;s nice, that&rsquo;s grand! There&rsquo;re cottages, a
+regular fair. And some jolly fine music! What a Balthazar&rsquo;s feast!
+They&rsquo;re smashing the crockery in there. Awfully swell! Now it&rsquo;s
+being lit up; red balls in the air, and it jumps, and it flies! Oh! oh! what a
+lot of lanterns in the trees! It&rsquo;s confoundedly pleasant! There&rsquo;s
+water flowing everywhere, fountains, cascades, water which sings, oh! with the
+voice of a chorister. The cascades are grand!&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+And he drew himself up, as though the better to hear the delicious song of the
+water; he sucked in forcibly, fancying he was drinking the fresh spray blown
+from the fountains. But, little by little, his face resumed an agonized
+expression. Then he crouched down and flew quicker than ever around the walls
+of the cell, uttering vague threats.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;More traps, all that! I thought as much. Silence, you set of swindlers!
+Yes, you&rsquo;re making a fool of me. It&rsquo;s for that that you&rsquo;re
+drinking and bawling inside there with your viragoes. I&rsquo;ll demolish you,
+you and your cottage! Damnation! Will you leave me in peace?&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+He clinched his fists; then he uttered a hoarse cry, stooping as he ran. And he
+stuttered, his teeth chattering with fright.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;It&rsquo;s so that I may kill myself. No, I won&rsquo;t throw myself in!
+All that water means that I&rsquo;ve no heart. No, I won&rsquo;t throw myself
+in!&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The cascades, which fled at his approach, advanced when he retired. And all of
+a sudden, he looked stupidly around him, mumbling, in a voice which was
+scarcely audible:
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;It isn&rsquo;t possible, they set conjurers against me!&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;I&rsquo;m off, sir. I&rsquo;ve got to go. Good-night!&rdquo; said
+Gervaise to the house surgeon. &ldquo;It upsets me too much; I&rsquo;ll come
+again.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+She was quite white. Coupeau was continuing his breakdown from the window to
+the mattress and from the mattress to the window, perspiring, toiling, always
+beating the same rhythm. Then she hurried away. But though she scrambled down
+the stairs, she still heard her husband&rsquo;s confounded jig until she
+reached the bottom. Ah! <i>Mon Dieu!</i> how pleasant it was out of doors, one
+could breathe there!
+</p>
+
+<p>
+That evening everyone in the tenement was discussing Coupeau&rsquo;s strange
+malady. The Boches invited Gervaise to have a drink with them, even though they
+now considered Clump-clump beneath them, in order to hear all the details.
+Madame Lorilleux and Madame Poisson were there also. Boche told of a carpenter
+he had known who had been a drinker of absinthe. The man shed his clothes, went
+out in the street and danced the polka until he died. That rather struck the
+ladies as comic, even though it was very sad.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Gervaise got up in the middle of the room and did an imitation of Coupeau. Yes,
+that&rsquo;s just how it was. Can anyone feature a man doing that for hours on
+end? If they didn&rsquo;t believe they could go see for themselves.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+On getting up the next morning, Gervaise promised herself she would not return
+to the Sainte-Anne again. What use would it be? She did not want to go off her
+head also. However, every ten minutes, she fell to musing and became
+absent-minded. It would be curious though, if he were still throwing his legs
+about. When twelve o&rsquo;clock struck, she could no longer resist; she
+started off and did not notice how long the walk was, her brain was so full of
+her desire to go and the dread of what awaited her.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Oh! there was no need for her to ask for news. She heard Coupeau&rsquo;s song
+the moment she reached the foot of the staircase. Just the same tune, just the
+same dance. She might have thought herself going up again after having only
+been down for a minute. The attendant of the day before, who was carrying some
+jugs of tisane along the corridor, winked his eye as he met her, by way of
+being amiable.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Still the same, then?&rdquo; said she.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Oh! still the same!&rdquo; he replied without stopping.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+She entered the room, but she remained near the door, because there were some
+people with Coupeau. The fair, rosy house surgeon was standing up, having given
+his chair to a bald old gentleman who was decorated and had a pointed face like
+a weasel. He was no doubt the head doctor, for his glance was as sharp and
+piercing as a gimlet. All the dealers in sudden death have a glance like that.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+No, really, it was not a pretty sight; and Gervaise, all in a tremble, asked
+herself why she had returned. To think that the evening before they accused her
+at the Boches&rsquo; of exaggerating the picture! Now she saw better how
+Coupeau set about it, his eyes wide open looking into space, and she would
+never forget it. She overheard a few words between the house surgeon and the
+head doctor. The former was giving some details of the night: her husband had
+talked and thrown himself about, that was what it amounted to. Then the
+bald-headed old gentleman, who was not very polite by the way, at length
+appeared to become aware of her presence; and when the house surgeon had
+informed him that she was the patient&rsquo;s wife, he began to question her in
+the harsh manner of a commissary of the police.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Did this man&rsquo;s father drink?&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Yes, sir; just a little like everyone. He killed himself by falling from
+a roof one day when he was tipsy.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Did his mother drink?&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Well! sir, like everyone else, you know; a drop here, a drop there. Oh!
+the family is very respectable! There was a brother who died very young in
+convulsions.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The doctor looked at her with his piercing eye. He resumed in his rough voice:
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;And you, you drink too, don&rsquo;t you?&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Gervaise stammered, protested, and placed her hand upon her heart, as though to
+take her solemn oath.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;You drink! Take care; see where drink leads to. One day or other you
+will die thus.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Then she remained close to the wall. The doctor had turned his back to her. He
+squatted down, without troubling himself as to whether his overcoat trailed in
+the dust of the matting; for a long while he studied Coupeau&rsquo;s trembling,
+waiting for its reappearance, following it with his glance. That day the legs
+were going in their turn, the trembling had descended from the hands to the
+feet; a regular puppet with his strings being pulled, throwing his limbs about,
+whilst the trunk of his body remained as stiff as a piece of wood. The disease
+progressed little by little. It was like a musical box beneath the skin; it
+started off every three or four seconds and rolled along for an instant; then
+it stopped and then it started off again, just the same as the little shiver
+which shakes stray dogs in winter, when cold and standing in some doorway for
+protection. Already the middle of the body and the shoulders quivered like
+water on the point of boiling. It was a funny demolition all the same, going
+off wriggling like a girl being tickled.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Coupeau, meanwhile, was complaining in a hollow voice. He seemed to suffer a
+great deal more than the day before. His broken murmurs disclosed all sorts of
+ailments. Thousands of pins were pricking him. He felt something heavy all
+about his body; some cold, wet animal was crawling over his thighs and digging
+its fangs into his flesh. Then there were other animals sticking to his
+shoulders, tearing his back with their claws.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;I&rsquo;m thirsty, oh! I&rsquo;m thirsty!&rdquo; groaned he continually.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The house surgeon handed him a little lemonade from a small shelf; Coupeau
+seized the mug in both hands and greedily took a mouthful, spilling half the
+liquid over himself; but he spat it out at once with furious disgust,
+exclaiming:
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Damnation! It&rsquo;s brandy!&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Then, on a sign from the doctor, the house surgeon tried to make him drink some
+water without leaving go of the bottle. This time he swallowed the mouthful,
+yelling as though he had swallowed fire.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;It&rsquo;s brandy; damnation! It&rsquo;s brandy!&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Since the night before, everything he had had to drink was brandy. It redoubled
+his thirst and he could no longer drink, because everything burnt him. They had
+brought him some broth, but they were evidently trying to poison him, for the
+broth smelt of vitriol. The bread was sour and moldy. There was nothing but
+poison around him. The cell stank of sulphur. He even accused persons of
+rubbing matches under his nose to infect him.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+All on a sudden he exclaimed:
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Oh! the rats, there&rsquo;re the rats now!&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+There were black balls that were changing into rats. These filthy animals got
+fatter and fatter, then they jumped onto the mattress and disappeared. There
+was also a monkey which came out of the wall, and went back into the wall, and
+which approached so near him each time, that he drew back through fear of
+having his nose bitten off. Suddenly there was another change, the walls were
+probably cutting capers, for he yelled out, choking with terror and rage:
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;That&rsquo;s it, gee up! Shake me, I don&rsquo;t care! Gee up! Tumble
+down! Yes, ring the bells, you black crows! Play the organ to prevent my
+calling the police. They&rsquo;ve put a bomb behind the wall, the lousy
+scoundrels! I can hear it, it snorts, they&rsquo;re going to blow us up! Fire!
+Damnation, fire! There&rsquo;s a cry of fire! There it blazes. Oh, it&rsquo;s
+getting lighter, lighter! All the sky&rsquo;s burning, red fires, green fires,
+yellow fires. Hi! Help! Fire!&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+His cries became lost in a rattle. He now only mumbled disconnected words,
+foaming at the mouth, his chin wet with saliva. The doctor rubbed his nose with
+his finger, a movement no doubt habitual with him in the presence of serious
+cases. He turned to the house surgeon, and asked him in a low voice:
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;And the temperature, still the hundred degrees, is it not?&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Yes, sir.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The doctor pursed his lips. He continued there another two minutes, his eyes
+fixed on Coupeau. Then he shrugged his shoulders, adding:
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;The same treatment, broth, milk, lemonade, and the potion of extract of
+quinine. Do not leave him, and call me if necessary.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+He went out and Gervaise followed him, to ask him if there was any hope. But he
+walked so stiffly along the corridor, that she did not dare approach him. She
+stood rooted there a minute, hesitating whether to return and look at her
+husband. The time she had already passed had been far from pleasant. As she
+again heard him calling out that the lemonade smelt of brandy, she hurried
+away, having had enough of the performance. In the streets, the galloping of
+the horses and the noise of the vehicles made her fancy that all the inmates of
+Saint-Anne were at her heels. And that the doctor had threatened her! Really,
+she already thought she had the complaint.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+In the Rue de la Goutte-d&rsquo;Or the Boches and the others were naturally
+awaiting her. The moment she appeared they called her into the
+concierge&rsquo;s room. Well! was old Coupeau still in the land of the living?
+<i>Mon Dieu!</i> yes, he still lived. Boche seemed amazed and confounded; he
+had bet a bottle that old Coupeau would not last till the evening. What! He
+still lived! And they all exhibited their astonishment, and slapped their
+thighs. There was a fellow who lasted! Madame Lorilleux reckoned up the hours;
+thirty-six hours and twenty-four hours, sixty hours. <i>Sacre Dieu!</i> already
+sixty hours that he had been doing the jig and screaming! Such a feat of
+strength had never been seen before. But Boche, who was upset that he had lost
+the bet, questioned Gervaise with an air of doubt, asking her if she was quite
+sure he had not filed off behind her back. Oh! no, he had no desire to, he
+jumped about too much. Then Boche, still doubting, begged her to show them
+again a little how he was acting, just so they could see. Yes, yes, a little
+more! The request was general! The company told her she would be very kind if
+she would oblige, for just then two neighbors happened to be there who had not
+been present the day before, and who had come down purposely to see the
+performance. The concierge called to everybody to make room, they cleared the
+centre of the apartment, pushing one another with their elbows, and quivering
+with curiosity. Gervaise, however, hung down her head. Really, she was afraid
+it might upset her. Desirous though of showing that she did not refuse for the
+sake of being pressed, she tried two or three little leaps; but she became
+quite queer, and stopped; on her word of honor, she was not equal to it! There
+was a murmur of disappointment; it was a pity, she imitated it perfectly.
+However, she could not do it, it was no use insisting! And when Virginie left
+to return to her shop, they forgot all about old Coupeau and began to gossip
+about the Poissons and their home, a real mess now. The day before, the
+bailiffs had been; the policeman was about to lose his place; as for Lantier,
+he was now making up to the daughter of the restaurant keeper next door, a fine
+woman, who talked of setting up as a tripe-seller. Ah! it was amusing, everyone
+already beheld a tripe-seller occupying the shop; after the sweets should come
+something substantial. And that blind Poisson! How could a man whose profession
+required him to be so smart fail to see what was going on in his own home? They
+stopped talking suddenly when they noticed that Gervaise was off in a corner by
+herself imitating Coupeau. Her hands and feet were jerking. Yes, they
+couldn&rsquo;t ask for a better performance! Then Gervaise started as if waking
+from a dream and hurried away calling out good-night to everyone.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+On the morrow, the Boches saw her start off at twelve, the same as on the two
+previous days. They wished her a pleasant afternoon. That day the corridor at
+Sainte-Anne positively shook with Coupeau&rsquo;s yells and kicks. She had not
+left the stairs when she heard him yelling:
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;What a lot of bugs!&mdash;Come this way again that I may squash
+you!&mdash;Ah! they want to kill me! ah! the bugs!&mdash;I&rsquo;m a bigger
+swell than the lot of you! Clear out, damnation! Clear out.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+For a moment she stood panting before the door. Was he then fighting against an
+army? When she entered, the performance had increased and was embellished even
+more than on previous occasions. Coupeau was a raving madman, the same as one
+sees at the Charenton mad-house! He was throwing himself about in the center of
+the cell, slamming his fists everywhere, on himself, on the walls, on the
+floor, and stumbling about punching empty space. He wanted to open the window,
+and he hid himself, defended himself, called, answered, produced all this
+uproar without the least assistance, in the exasperated way of a man beset by a
+mob of people. Then Gervaise understood that he fancied he was on a roof,
+laying down sheets of zinc. He imitated the bellows with his mouth, he moved
+the iron about in the fire and knelt down so as to pass his thumb along the
+edges of the mat, thinking that he was soldering it. Yes, his handicraft
+returned to him at the moment of croaking; and if he yelled so loud, if he
+fought on his roof, it was because ugly scoundrels were preventing him doing
+his work properly. On all the neighboring roofs were villains mocking and
+tormenting him. Besides that, the jokers were letting troops of rats loose
+about his legs. Ah! the filthy beasts, he saw them always! Though he kept
+crushing them, bringing his foot down with all his strength, fresh hordes of
+them continued passing, until they quite covered the roof. And there were
+spiders there too! He roughly pressed his trousers against his thigh to squash
+some big spiders which had crept up his leg. <i>Mon Dieu!</i> he would never
+finish his day&rsquo;s work, they wanted to destroy him, his employer would
+send him to prison. Then, whilst making haste, he suddenly imagined he had a
+steam-engine in his stomach; with his mouth wide open, he puffed out the smoke,
+a dense smoke which filled the cell and found an outlet by the window; and,
+bending forward, still puffing, he looked outside of the cloud of smoke as it
+unrolled and ascended to the sky, where it hid the sun.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Look!&rdquo; cried he, &ldquo;there&rsquo;s the band of the Chaussee
+Clignancourt, disguised as bears with drums, putting on a show.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+He remained crouching before the window, as though he had been watching a
+procession in a street, from some rooftop.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;There&rsquo;s the cavalcade, lions and panthers making
+grimaces&mdash;there&rsquo;s brats dressed up as dogs and
+cats&mdash;there&rsquo;s tall Clemence, with her wig full of feathers. Ah!
+<i>Mon Dieu!</i> she&rsquo;s turning head over heels; she&rsquo;s showed
+everything&mdash;you&rsquo;d better run, Duckie. Hey, the cops, leave her
+alone!&mdash;just you leave her alone&mdash;don&rsquo;t shoot! Don&rsquo;t
+shoot&mdash;&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+His voice rose, hoarse and terrified and he stooped down quickly, saying that
+the police and the military were below, men who were aiming at him with rifles.
+In the wall he saw the barrel of a pistol emerging, pointed at his breast. They
+had dragged the girl away.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Don&rsquo;t shoot! <i>Mon Dieu!</i> Don&rsquo;t shoot!&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Then, the buildings were tumbling down, he imitated the cracking of a whole
+neighborhood collapsing; and all disappeared, all flew off. But he had no time
+to take breath, other pictures passed with extraordinary rapidity. A furious
+desire to speak filled his mouth full of words which he uttered without any
+connection, and with a gurgling sound in his throat. He continued to raise his
+voice, louder and louder.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Hallow, it&rsquo;s you? Good-day! No jokes! Don&rsquo;t make me nuzzle
+your hair.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+And he passed his hand before his face, he blew to send the hairs away. The
+house surgeon questioned him.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Who is it you see?&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;My wife, of course!&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+He was looking at the wall, with his back to Gervaise. The latter had a rare
+fright, and she examined the wall, to see if she also could catch sight of
+herself there. He continued talking.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Now, you know, none of your wheedling&mdash;I won&rsquo;t be tied down!
+You are pretty, you have got a fine dress. Where did you get the money for it,
+you cow? You&rsquo;ve been at a party, camel! Wait a bit and I&rsquo;ll do for
+you! Ah! you&rsquo;re hiding your boy friend behind your skirts. Who is it?
+Stoop down that I may see. Damnation, it&rsquo;s him again!&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+With a terrible leap, he went head first against the wall; but the padding
+softened the blow. One only heard his body rebounding onto the matting, where
+the shock had sent him.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Who is it you see?&rdquo; repeated the house surgeon.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;The hatter! The hatter!&rdquo; yelled Coupeau.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+And the house surgeon questioning Gervaise, the latter stuttered without being
+able to answer, for this scene stirred up within her all the worries of her
+life. The zinc-worker thrust out his fists.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;We&rsquo;ll settle this between us, my lad. It&rsquo;s full time I did
+for you! Ah, you coolly come, with that virago on your arm, to make a fool of
+me before everyone. Well! I&rsquo;m going to throttle you&mdash;yes, yes, I!
+And without putting any gloves on either! I&rsquo;ll stop your swaggering. Take
+that! And that! And that!&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+He hit about in the air viciously. Then a wild rage took possession of him.
+Having bumped against the wall in walking backwards, he thought he was being
+attacked from behind. He turned round, and fiercely hammered away at the
+padding. He sprang about, jumped from one corner to another, knocked his
+stomach, his back, his shoulder, rolled over, and picked himself up again. His
+bones seemed softened, his flesh had a sound like damp oakum. He accompanied
+this pretty game with atrocious threats, and wild and guttural cries. However
+the battle must have been going badly for him, for his breathing became
+quicker, his eyes were starting out of his head, and he seemed little by little
+to be seized with the cowardice of a child.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Murder! Murder! Be off with you both. Oh! you brutes, they&rsquo;re
+laughing. There she is on her back, the virago! She must give in, it&rsquo;s
+settled. Ah! the brigand, he&rsquo;s murdering her! He&rsquo;s cutting off her
+leg with his knife. The other leg&rsquo;s on the ground, the stomach&rsquo;s in
+two, it&rsquo;s full of blood. Oh! <i>Mon Dieu!</i> Oh! <i>Mon Dieu!</i>&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+And, covered with perspiration, his hair standing on end, looking a frightful
+object, he retired backwards, violently waving his arms, as though to send the
+abominable sight from him. He uttered two heart-rending wails, and fell flat on
+his back on the mattress, against which his heels had caught.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;He&rsquo;s dead, sir, he&rsquo;s dead!&rdquo; said Gervaise, clasping
+her hands.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The house surgeon had drawn near, and was pulling Coupeau into the middle of
+the mattress. No, he was not dead. They had taken his shoes off. His bare feet
+hung off the end of the mattress and they were dancing all by themselves, one
+beside the other, in time, a little hurried and regular dance.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Just then the head doctor entered. He had brought two of his
+colleagues&mdash;one thin, the other fat, and both decorated like himself. All
+three stooped down without saying a word, and examined the man all over; then
+they rapidly conversed together in a low voice. They had uncovered Coupeau from
+his thighs to his shoulders, and by standing on tiptoe Gervaise could see the
+naked trunk spread out. Well! it was complete. The trembling had descended from
+the arms and ascended from the legs, and now the trunk itself was getting
+lively!
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;He&rsquo;s sleeping,&rdquo; murmured the head doctor.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+And he called the two others&rsquo; attention to the man&rsquo;s countenance.
+Coupeau, his eyes closed, had little nervous twinges which drew up all his
+face. He was more hideous still, thus flattened out, with his jaw projecting,
+and his visage deformed like a corpse&rsquo;s that had suffered from nightmare;
+but the doctors, having caught sight of his feet, went and poked their noses
+over them, with an air of profound interest. The feet were still dancing.
+Though Coupeau slept the feet danced. Oh! their owner might snore, that did not
+concern them, they continued their little occupation without either hurrying or
+slackening. Regular mechanical feet, feet which took their pleasure wherever
+they found it.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Gervaise having seen the doctors place their hands on her old man, wished to
+feel him also. She approached gently and laid a hand on his shoulder, and she
+kept it there a minute. <i>Mon Dieu!</i> whatever was taking place inside? It
+danced down into the very depths of the flesh, the bones themselves must have
+been jumping. Quiverings, undulations, coming from afar, flowed like a river
+beneath the skin. When she pressed a little she felt she distinguished the
+suffering cries of the marrow. What a fearful thing, something was boring away
+like a mole! It must be the rotgut from l&rsquo;Assommoir that was hacking away
+inside him. Well! his entire body had been soaked in it.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The doctors had gone away. At the end of an hour Gervaise, who had remained
+with the house surgeon, repeated in a low voice:
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;He&rsquo;s dead, sir; he&rsquo;s dead!&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+But the house surgeon, who was watching the feet, shook his head. The bare
+feet, projecting beyond the mattress, still danced on. They were not
+particularly clean and the nails were long. Several more hours passed. All on a
+sudden they stiffened and became motionless. Then the house surgeon turned
+towards Gervaise, saying:
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;It&rsquo;s over now.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Death alone had been able to stop those feet.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+When Gervaise got back to the Rue de la Goutte-d&rsquo;Or she found at the
+Boches&rsquo; a number of women who were cackling in excited tones. She thought
+they were awaiting her to have the latest news, the same as the other days.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;He&rsquo;s gone,&rdquo; said she, quietly, as she pushed open the door,
+looking tired out and dull.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+But no one listened to her. The whole building was topsy-turvy. Oh! a most
+extraordinary story. Poisson had caught his wife with Lantier. Exact details
+were not known, because everyone had a different version. However, he had
+appeared just when they were not expecting him. Some further information was
+given, which the ladies repeated to one another as they pursed their lips. A
+sight like that had naturally brought Poisson out of his shell. He was a
+regular tiger. This man, who talked but little and who always seemed to walk
+with a stick up his back, had begun to roar and jump about. Then nothing more
+had been heard. Lantier had evidently explained things to the husband. Anyhow,
+it could not last much longer, and Boche announced that the girl of the
+restaurant was for certain going to take the shop for selling tripe. That rogue
+of a hatter adored tripe.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+On seeing Madame Lorilleux and Madame Lerat arrive, Gervaise repeated, faintly:
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;He&rsquo;s gone. <i>Mon Dieu!</i> Four days&rsquo; dancing and
+yelling&mdash;&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Then the two sisters could not do otherwise than pull out their handkerchiefs.
+Their brother had had many faults, but after all he was their brother. Boche
+shrugged his shoulders and said, loud enough to be heard by everyone:
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Bah! It&rsquo;s a drunkard the less.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+From that day, as Gervaise often got a bit befuddled, one of the amusements of
+the house was to see her imitate Coupeau. It was no longer necessary to press
+her; she gave the performance gratis, her hands and feet trembling as she
+uttered little involuntary shrieks. She must have caught this habit at
+Sainte-Anne from watching her husband too long.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Gervaise lasted in this state several months. She fell lower and lower still,
+submitting to the grossest outrages and dying of starvation a little every day.
+As soon as she had four sous she drank and pounded on the walls. She was
+employed on all the dirty errands of the neighborhood. Once they even bet her
+she wouldn&rsquo;t eat filth, but she did it in order to earn ten sous.
+Monsieur Marescot had decided to turn her out of her room on the sixth floor.
+But, as Pere Bru had just been found dead in his cubbyhole under the staircase,
+the landlord had allowed her to turn into it. Now she roosted there in the
+place of Pere Bru. It was inside there, on some straw, that her teeth
+chattered, whilst her stomach was empty and her bones were frozen. The earth
+would not have her apparently. She was becoming idiotic. She did not even think
+of making an end of herself by jumping out of the sixth floor window on to the
+pavement of the courtyard below. Death had to take her little by little, bit by
+bit, dragging her thus to the end through the accursed existence she had made
+for herself. It was never even exactly known what she did die of. There was
+some talk of a cold, but the truth was she died of privation and of the filth
+and hardship of her ruined life. Overeating and dissoluteness killed her,
+according to the Lorilleuxs. One morning, as there was a bad smell in the
+passage, it was remembered that she had not been seen for two days, and she was
+discovered already green in her hole.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+It happened to be old Bazouge who came with the pauper&rsquo;s coffin under his
+arm to pack her up. He was again precious drunk that day, but a jolly fellow
+all the same, and as lively as a cricket. When he recognized the customer he
+had to deal with he uttered several philosophical reflections, whilst
+performing his little business.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Everyone has to go. There&rsquo;s no occasion for jostling,
+there&rsquo;s room for everyone. And it&rsquo;s stupid being in a hurry that
+just slows you up. All I want to do is to please everybody. Some will, others
+won&rsquo;t. What&rsquo;s the result? Here&rsquo;s one who wouldn&rsquo;t, then
+she would. So she was made to wait. Anyhow, it&rsquo;s all right now, and
+faith! She&rsquo;s earned it! Merrily, just take it easy.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+And when he took hold of Gervaise in his big, dirty hands, he was seized with
+emotion, and he gently raised this woman who had had so great a longing for his
+attentions. Then, as he laid her out with paternal care at the bottom of the
+coffin, he stuttered between two hiccoughs:
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;You know&mdash;now listen&mdash;it&rsquo;s me, Bibi-the-Gay, called the
+ladies&rsquo; consoler. There, you&rsquo;re happy now. Go by-by, my
+beauty!&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+THE END
+</p>
+
+</div><!--end chapter-->
+
+<div style='display:block; margin-top:4em'>*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK L’ASSOMMOIR ***</div>
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+The Project Gutenberg EBook of L'Assommoir, by Emile Zola
+
+This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with
+almost no restrictions whatsoever.  You may copy it, give it away or
+re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included
+with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org
+
+
+Title: L'Assommoir
+
+Author: Emile Zola
+
+Release Date: April 27, 2006 [EBook #8600]
+[Last updated: June 1, 2014]
+
+Language: English
+
+Character set encoding: ASCII
+
+*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK L'ASSOMMOIR ***
+
+
+
+
+Produced by John Bickers; Dagny
+
+
+
+
+
+L'ASSOMMOIR
+
+By Emile Zola
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER I.
+
+Gervaise had waited up for Lantier until two in the morning. Then,
+shivering from having remained in a thin loose jacket, exposed to the
+fresh air at the window, she had thrown herself across the bed, drowsy,
+feverish, and her cheeks bathed in tears.
+
+For a week past, on leaving the "Two-Headed Calf," where they took
+their meals, he had sent her home with the children and never reappeared
+himself till late at night, alleging that he had been in search of work.
+That evening, while watching for his return, she thought she had seen
+him enter the dancing-hall of the "Grand-Balcony," the ten blazing
+windows of which lighted up with the glare of a conflagration the dark
+expanse of the exterior Boulevards; and five or six paces behind him,
+she had caught sight of little Adele, a burnisher, who dined at the same
+restaurant, swinging her hands, as if she had just quitted his arm so as
+not to pass together under the dazzling light of the globes at the door.
+
+When, towards five o'clock, Gervaise awoke, stiff and sore, she broke
+forth into sobs. Lantier had not returned. For the first time he had
+slept away from home. She remained seated on the edge of the bed, under
+the strip of faded chintz, which hung from the rod fastened to the
+ceiling by a piece of string. And slowly, with her eyes veiled by tears,
+she glanced round the wretched lodging, furnished with a walnut chest
+of drawers, minus one drawer, three rush-bottomed chairs, and a little
+greasy table, on which stood a broken water-jug. There had been added,
+for the children, an iron bedstead, which prevented any one getting to
+the chest of drawers, and filled two-thirds of the room. Gervaise's and
+Lantier's trunk, wide open, in one corner, displayed its emptiness, and
+a man's old hat right at the bottom almost buried beneath some dirty
+shirts and socks; whilst, against the walls, above the articles of
+furniture, hung a shawl full of holes, and a pair of trousers begrimed
+with mud, the last rags which the dealers in second-hand clothes
+declined to buy. In the centre of the mantel-piece, lying between two
+odd zinc candle-sticks, was a bundle of pink pawn-tickets. It was
+the best room of the hotel, the first floor room, looking on to the
+Boulevard.
+
+The two children were sleeping side by side, with their heads on the
+same pillow. Claude, aged eight years, was breathing quietly, with his
+little hands thrown outside the coverlet; while Etienne, only four
+years old, was smiling, with one arm round his brother's neck. And
+bare-footed, without thinking to again put on the old shoes that had
+fallen on the floor, she resumed her position at the window, her eyes
+searching the pavements in the distance.
+
+The hotel was situated on the Boulevard de la Chapelle, to the left
+of the Barriere Poissonniere. It was a building of two stories high,
+painted a red, of the color of wine dregs, up to the second floor, and
+with shutters all rotted by the rain. Over a lamp with starred panes
+of glass, one could manage to read, between the two windows, the words,
+"Hotel Boncoeur, kept by Marsoullier," painted in big yellow letters,
+several pieces of which the moldering of the plaster had carried away.
+The lamp preventing her seeing, Gervaise raised herself on tiptoe, still
+holding the handkerchief to her lips. She looked to the right, towards
+the Boulevard Rochechouart, where groups of butchers, in aprons smeared
+with blood, were hanging about in front of the slaughter-houses; and the
+fresh breeze wafted occasionally a stench of slaughtered beasts. Looking
+to the left, she scanned a long avenue that ended nearly in front of
+her, where the white mass of the Lariboisiere Hospital was then in
+course of construction. Slowly, from one end of the horizon to the
+other, she followed the octroi wall, behind which she sometimes heard,
+during night time, the shrieks of persons being murdered; and she
+searchingly looked into the remote angles, the dark corners, black with
+humidity and filth, fearing to discern there Lantier's body, stabbed to
+death.
+
+She looked at the endless gray wall that surrounded the city with its
+belt of desolation. When she raised her eyes higher, she became aware of
+a bright burst of sunlight. The dull hum of the city's awakening already
+filled the air. Craning her neck to look at the Poissonniere gate, she
+remained for a time watching the constant stream of men, horses, and
+carts which flooded down from the heights of Montmartre and La Chapelle,
+pouring between the two squat octroi lodges. It was like a herd of
+plodding cattle, an endless throng widened by sudden stoppages into
+eddies that spilled off the sidewalks into the street, a steady
+procession of laborers on their way back to work with tools slung over
+their back and a loaf of bread under their arm. This human inundation
+kept pouring down into Paris to be constantly swallowed up. Gervaise
+leaned further out at the risk of falling when she thought she
+recognized Lantier among the throng. She pressed the handkerchief
+tighter against her mouth, as though to push back the pain within her.
+
+The sound of a young and cheerful voice caused her to leave the window.
+
+"So the old man isn't here, Madame Lantier?"
+
+"Why, no, Monsieur Coupeau," she replied, trying to smile.
+
+Coupeau, a zinc-worker who occupied a ten franc room on the top floor,
+having seen the door unlocked, had walked in as friends will do.
+
+"You know," he continued, "I'm now working over there in the hospital.
+What beautiful May weather, isn't it? The air is rather sharp this
+morning."
+
+And he looked at Gervaise's face, red with weeping. When he saw that the
+bed had not been slept in, he shook his head gently; then he went to the
+children's couch where they were sleeping, looking as rosy as cherubs,
+and, lowering his voice, he said,
+
+"Come, the old man's not been home, has he? Don't worry yourself, Madame
+Lantier. He's very much occupied with politics. When they were voting
+for Eugene Sue the other day, he was acting almost crazy. He has
+very likely spent the night with some friends blackguarding crapulous
+Bonaparte."
+
+"No, no," she murmured with an effort. "You don't think that. I know
+where Lantier is. You see, we have our little troubles like the rest of
+the world!"
+
+Coupeau winked his eye, to indicate he was not a dupe of this falsehood;
+and he went off, after offering to fetch her milk, if she did not care
+to go out: she was a good and courageous woman, and might count upon him
+on any day of trouble.
+
+As soon as he was gone, Gervaise again returned to the window. At the
+Barriere, the tramp of the drove still continued in the morning air:
+locksmiths in short blue blouses, masons in white jackets, house
+painters in overcoats over long smocks. From a distance the crowd looked
+like a chalky smear of neutral hue composed chiefly of faded blue and
+dingy gray. When one of the workers occasionally stopped to light his
+pipe the others kept plodding past him, without sparing a laugh or a
+word to a comrade. With cheeks gray as clay, their eyes were continually
+drawn toward Paris which was swallowing them one by one.
+
+At both corners of the Rue des Poissonniers however, some of the men
+slackened their pace as they neared the doors of the two wine-dealers
+who were taking down their shutters; and, before entering, they stood on
+the edge of the pavement, looking sideways over Paris, with no strength
+in their arms and already inclined for a day of idleness. Inside various
+groups were already buying rounds of drinks, or just standing around,
+forgetting their troubles, crowding up the place, coughing, spitting,
+clearing their throats with sip after sip.
+
+Gervaise was watching Pere Colombe's wineshop to the left of the street,
+where she thought she had seen Lantier, when a stout woman, bareheaded
+and wearing an apron called to her from the middle of the roadway:
+
+"Hey, Madame Lantier, you're up very early!"
+
+Gervaise leaned out. "Why! It's you, Madame Boche! Oh! I've got a lot of
+work to-day!"
+
+"Yes, things don't do themselves, do they?"
+
+The conversation continued between roadway and window. Madame Boche was
+concierge of the building where the "Two-Headed Calf" was on the ground
+floor. Gervaise had waited for Lantier more than once in the concierge's
+lodge, so as not to be alone at table with all the men who ate at the
+restaurant. Madame Boche was going to a tailor who was late in mending
+an overcoat for her husband. She mentioned one of her tenants who had
+come in with a woman the night before and kept everybody awake past
+three in the morning. She looked at Gervaise with intense curiosity.
+
+"Is Monsieur Lantier, then, still in bed?" she asked abruptly.
+
+"Yes, he's asleep," replied Gervaise, who could not avoid blushing.
+
+Madame Boche saw the tears come into her eyes; and, satisfied no doubt,
+she turned to go, declaring men to be a cursed, lazy set. As she went
+off, she called back:
+
+"It's this morning you go to the wash-house, isn't it? I've something to
+wash, too. I'll keep you a place next to me, and we can chat together."
+Then, as if moved with sudden pity, she added:
+
+"My poor little thing, you had far better not remain there; you'll take
+harm. You look quite blue with cold."
+
+Gervaise still obstinately remained at the window during two mortal
+hours, till eight o'clock. Now all the shops had opened. Only a few work
+men were still hurrying along.
+
+The working girls now filled the boulevard: metal polishers, milliners,
+flower sellers, shivering in their thin clothing. In small groups they
+chattered gaily, laughing and glancing here and there. Occasionally
+there would be one girl by herself, thin, pale, serious-faced, picking
+her way along the city wall among the puddles and the filth.
+
+After the working girls, the office clerks came past, breathing upon
+their chilled fingers and munching penny rolls. Some of them are gaunt
+young fellows in ill-fitting suits, their tired eyes still fogged from
+sleep. Others are older men, stooped and tottering, with faces pale and
+drawn from long hours of office work and glancing nervously at their
+watches for fear of arriving late.
+
+In time the Boulevards settle into their usual morning quiet. Old folks
+come out to stroll in the sun. Tired young mothers in bedraggled
+skirts cuddle babies in their arms or sit on a bench to change diapers.
+Children run, squealing and laughing, pushing and shoving.
+
+Then Gervaise felt herself choking, dizzy with anguish, all hopes gone;
+it seemed to her that everything was ended, even time itself, and that
+Lantier would return no more. Her eyes vacantly wandered from the old
+slaughter-house, foul with butchery and with stench, to the new white
+hospital which, through the yawning openings of its ranges of windows,
+disclosed the naked wards, where death was preparing to mow. In front of
+her on the other side of the octroi wall the bright heavens dazzled her,
+with the rising sun which rose higher and higher over the vast awaking
+city.
+
+The young woman was seated on a chair, no longer crying, and with her
+hands abandoned on her lap, when Lantier quietly entered the room.
+
+"It's you! It's you!" she cried, rising to throw herself upon his neck.
+
+"Yes, it's me. What of it?" he replied. "You are not going to begin any
+of your nonsense, I hope!"
+
+He had pushed her aside. Then, with a gesture of ill-humor he threw
+his black felt hat to the chest of drawers. He was a young fellow of
+twenty-six years of age, short and very dark, with a handsome figure,
+and slight moustaches which his hand was always mechanically twirling.
+He wore a workman's overalls and an old soiled overcoat, which he
+had belted tightly at the waist, and he spoke with a strong Provencal
+accent.
+
+Gervaise, who had fallen back on her chair, gently complained, in
+short sentences: "I've not had a wink of sleep. I feared some harm had
+happened to you. Where have you been? Where did you spend the night? For
+heaven's sake! Don't do it again, or I shall go crazy. Tell me Auguste,
+where have you been?"
+
+"Where I had business, of course," he returned shrugging his shoulders.
+"At eight o'clock, I was at La Glaciere, with my friend who is to start
+a hat factory. We sat talking late, so I preferred to sleep there. Now,
+you know, I don't like being spied upon, so just shut up!"
+
+The young woman recommenced sobbing. The loud voices and the rough
+movements of Lantier, who upset the chairs, had awakened the children.
+They sat up in bed, half naked, disentangling their hair with their tiny
+hands, and, hearing their mother weep, they uttered terrible screams,
+crying also with their scarcely open eyes.
+
+"Ah! there's the music!" shouted Lantier furiously. "I warn you, I'll
+take my hook! And it will be for good, this time. You won't shut up?
+Then, good morning! I'll return to the place I've just come from."
+
+He had already taken his hat from off the chest of drawers. But Gervaise
+threw herself before him, stammering: "No, no!"
+
+And she hushed the little ones' tears with her caresses, smoothed their
+hair, and soothed them with soft words. The children, suddenly quieted,
+laughing on their pillow, amused themselves by punching each other. The
+father however, without even taking off his boots, had thrown himself on
+the bed looking worn out, his face bearing signs of having been up all
+night. He did not go to sleep, he lay with his eyes wide open, looking
+round the room.
+
+"It's a mess here!" he muttered. And after observing Gervaise a moment,
+he malignantly added: "Don't you even wash yourself now?"
+
+Gervaise was twenty-two, tall and slim with fine features, but she was
+already beginning to show the strain of her hard life. She seemed to
+have aged ten years from the hours of agonized weeping. Lantier's mean
+remark made her mad.
+
+"You're not fair," she said spiritedly. "You well know I do all I can.
+It's not my fault we find ourselves here. I would like to see you, with
+two children, in a room where there's not even a stove to heat some
+water. When we arrived in Paris, instead of squandering your money, you
+should have made a home for us at once, as you promised."
+
+"Listen!" Lantier exploded. "You cracked the nut with me; it doesn't
+become you to sneer at it now!"
+
+Apparently not listening, Gervaise went on with her own thought. "If we
+work hard we can get out of the hole we're in. Madame Fauconnier, the
+laundress on Rue Neuve, will start me on Monday. If you work with your
+friend from La Glaciere, in six months we will be doing well. We'll have
+enough for decent clothes and a place we can call our own. But we'll
+have to stick with it and work hard."
+
+Lantier turned over towards the wall, looking greatly bored. Then
+Gervaise lost her temper.
+
+"Yes, that's it, I know the love of work doesn't trouble you much.
+You're bursting with ambition, you want to be dressed like a gentleman.
+You don't think me nice enough, do you, now that you've made me pawn
+all my dresses? Listen, Auguste, I didn't intend to speak of it, I would
+have waited a bit longer, but I know where you spent the night; I saw
+you enter the 'Grand-Balcony' with that trollop Adele. Ah! you choose
+them well! She's a nice one, she is! She does well to put on the airs
+of a princess! She's been the ridicule of every man who frequents the
+restaurant."
+
+At a bound Lantier sprang from the bed. His eyes had become as black as
+ink in his pale face. With this little man, rage blew like a tempest.
+
+"Yes, yes, of every man who frequents the restaurant!" repeated the
+young woman. "Madame Boche intends to give them notice, she and her long
+stick of a sister, because they've always a string of men after them on
+the staircase."
+
+Lantier raised his fists; then, resisting the desire of striking her,
+he seized hold of her by the arms, shook her violently and sent her
+sprawling upon the bed of the children, who recommenced crying. And
+he lay down again, mumbling, like a man resolving on something that he
+previously hesitated to do:
+
+"You don't know what you've done, Gervaise. You've made a big mistake;
+you'll see."
+
+For an instant the children continued sobbing. Their mother, who
+remained bending over the bed, held them both in her embrace, and kept
+repeating the same words in a monotonous tone of voice.
+
+"Ah! if it weren't for you! My poor little ones! If it weren't for you!
+If it weren't for you!"
+
+Stretched out quietly, his eyes raised to the faded strip of chintz,
+Lantier no longer listened, but seemed to be buried in a fixed idea. He
+remained thus for nearly an hour, without giving way to sleep, in spite
+of the fatigue which weighed his eyelids down.
+
+He finally turned toward Gervaise, his face set hard in determination.
+She had gotten the children up and dressed and had almost finished
+cleaning the room. The room looked, as always, dark and depressing
+with its sooty black ceiling and paper peeling from the damp walls. The
+dilapidated furniture was always streaked and dirty despite frequent
+dustings. Gervaise, devouring her grief, trying to assume a look of
+indifference, hurried over her work.
+
+Lantier watched as she tidied her hair in front of the small mirror
+hanging near the window. While she washed herself he looked at her bare
+arms and shoulders. He seemed to be making comparisons in his mind as
+his lips formed a grimace. Gervaise limped with her right leg, though
+it was scarcely noticeable except when she was tired. To-day, exhausted
+from remaining awake all night, she was supporting herself against the
+wall and dragging her leg.
+
+Neither one spoke, they had nothing more to say. Lantier seemed to be
+waiting, while Gervaise kept busy and tried to keep her countenance
+expressionless. Finally, while she was making a bundle of the dirty
+clothes thrown in a corner, behind the trunk, he at length opened his
+lips and asked:
+
+"What are you doing there? Where are you going?"
+
+She did not answer at first. Then, when he furiously repeated his
+question, she made up her mind, and said:
+
+"I suppose you can see for yourself. I'm going to wash all this. The
+children can't live in filth."
+
+He let her pick up two or three handkerchiefs. And, after a fresh pause,
+he resumed: "Have you got any money?"
+
+At these words she stood up and looked him full in the face, without
+leaving go of the children's dirty clothes, which she held in her hand.
+
+"Money! And where do you think I can have stolen any? You know well
+enough that I got three francs the day before yesterday on my black
+skirt. We've lunched twice off it, and money goes quick at the
+pork-butcher's. No, you may be quite sure I've no money. I've four sous
+for the wash-house. I don't have an extra income like some women."
+
+He let this allusion pass. He had moved off the bed, and was passing in
+review the few rags hanging about the room. He ended by taking up the
+pair of trousers and the shawl, and searching the drawers, he added two
+chemises and a woman's loose jacket to the parcel; then, he threw the
+whole bundle into Gervaise's arms, saying:
+
+"Here, go and pop this."
+
+"Don't you want me to pop the children as well?" asked she. "Eh! If they
+lent on children, it would be a fine riddance!"
+
+She went to the pawn-place, however. When she returned at the end of
+half an hour, she laid a hundred sou piece on the mantel-shelf, and
+added the ticket to the others, between the two candlesticks.
+
+"That's what they gave me," said she. "I wanted six francs, but I
+couldn't manage it. Oh! they'll never ruin themselves. And there's
+always such a crowd there!"
+
+Lantier did not pick up the five franc piece directly. He would rather
+that she got change, so as to leave her some of it. But he decided to
+slip it into his waistcoat pocket, when he noticed a small piece of ham
+wrapped up in paper, and the remains of a loaf on the chest of drawers.
+
+"I didn't dare go to the milkwoman's, because we owe her a week,"
+explained Gervaise. "But I shall be back early; you can get some bread
+and some chops whilst I'm away, and then we'll have lunch. Bring also a
+bottle of wine."
+
+He did not say no. Their quarrel seemed to be forgotten. The young woman
+was completing her bundle of dirty clothes. But when she went to take
+Lantier's shirts and socks from the bottom of the trunk, he called to
+her to leave them alone.
+
+"Leave my things, d'ye hear? I don't want 'em touched!"
+
+"What's it you don't want touched?" she asked, rising up. "I suppose
+you don't mean to put these filthy things on again, do you? They must be
+washed."
+
+She studied his boyishly handsome face, now so rigid that it seemed
+nothing could ever soften it. He angrily grabbed his things from her and
+threw them back into the trunk, saying:
+
+"Just obey me, for once! I tell you I won't have 'em touched!"
+
+"But why?" she asked, turning pale, a terrible suspicion crossing her
+mind. "You don't need your shirts now, you're not going away. What can
+it matter to you if I take them?"
+
+He hesitated for an instant, embarrassed by the piercing glance she
+fixed upon him. "Why--why--" stammered he, "because you go and tell
+everyone that you keep me, that you wash and mend. Well! It worries me,
+there! Attend to your own business and I'll attend to mine, washerwomen
+don't work for dogs."
+
+She supplicated, she protested she had never complained; but he roughly
+closed the trunk and sat down upon it, saying, "No!" to her face. He
+could surely do as he liked with what belonged to him! Then, to escape
+from the inquiring looks she leveled at him, he went and laid down on
+the bed again, saying that he was sleepy, and requesting her not to make
+his head ache with any more of her row. This time indeed, he seemed to
+fall asleep. Gervaise, for a while, remained undecided. She was tempted
+to kick the bundle of dirty clothes on one side, and to sit down and
+sew. But Lantier's regular breathing ended by reassuring her. She took
+the ball of blue and the piece of soap remaining from her last washing,
+and going up to the little ones who were quietly playing with some old
+corks in front of the window, she kissed them, and said in a low voice:
+
+"Be very good, don't make any noise; papa's asleep."
+
+When she left the room, Claude's and Etienne's gentle laughter alone
+disturbed the great silence beneath the blackened ceiling. It was ten
+o'clock. A ray of sunshine entered by the half open window.
+
+On the Boulevard, Gervaise turned to the left, and followed the Rue
+Neuve de la Goutte-d'Or. As she passed Madame Fauconnier's shop, she
+slightly bowed her head. The wash-house she was bound for was situated
+towards the middle of the street, at the part where the roadway
+commenced to ascend.
+
+The rounded, gray contours of the three large zinc wash tanks, studded
+with rivets, rose above the flat-roofed building. Behind them was
+the drying room, a high second story, closed in on all sides by
+narrow-slatted lattices so that the air could circulate freely, and
+through which laundry could be seen hanging on brass wires. The steam
+engine's smokestack exhaled puffs of white smoke to the right of the
+water tanks.
+
+Gervaise was used to puddles and did not bother to tuck her skirts up
+before making her way through the doorway, which was cluttered with jars
+of bleaching water. She was already acquainted with the mistress of the
+wash-house, a delicate little woman with red, inflamed eyes, who sat in
+a small glazed closet with account books in front of her, bars of soap
+on shelves, balls of blue in glass bowls, and pounds of soda done up
+in packets; and, as she passed, she asked for her beetle and her
+scouring-brush, which she had left to be taken care of the last time
+she had done her washing there. Then, after obtaining her number, she
+entered the wash-house.
+
+It was an immense shed, with large clear windows, and a flat ceiling,
+showing the beams supported on cast-iron pillars. Pale rays of light
+passed through the hot steam, which remained suspended like a milky
+fog. Smoke arose from certain corners, spreading about and covering the
+recesses with a bluish veil. A heavy moisture hung around, impregnated
+with a soapy odor, a damp insipid smell, continuous though at moments
+overpowered by the more potent fumes of the chemicals. Along the
+washing-places, on either side of the central alley, were rows of
+women, with bare arms and necks, and skirts tucked up, showing colored
+stockings and heavy lace-up shoes. They were beating furiously,
+laughing, leaning back to call out a word in the midst of the din, or
+stooping over their tubs, all of them brutal, ungainly, foul of speech,
+and soaked as though by a shower, with their flesh red and reeking.
+
+All around the women continuously flowed a river from hot-water buckets
+emptied with a sudden splash, cold-water faucets left dripping, soap
+suds spattering, and the dripping from rinsed laundry which was hung up.
+It splashed their feet and drained away across the sloping flagstones.
+The din of the shouting and the rhythmic beating was joined by
+the patter of steady dripping. It was slightly muffled by the
+moisture-soaked ceiling. Meanwhile, the steam engine could be heard as
+it puffed and snorted ceaselessly while cloaked in its white mist. The
+dancing vibration of its flywheel seemed to regulate the volume of the
+noisy turbulence.
+
+Gervaise passed slowly along the alley, looking to the right and left,
+carrying her laundry bundle under one arm, with one hip thrust high and
+limping more than usual. She was jostled by several women in the hubbub.
+
+"This way, my dear!" cried Madame Boche, in her loud voice. Then,
+when the young woman had joined her at the very end on the left,
+the concierge, who was furiously rubbing a dirty sock, began to talk
+incessantly, without leaving off her work. "Put your things there,
+I've kept your place. Oh, I sha'n't be long over what I've got. Boche
+scarcely dirties his things at all. And you, you won't be long either,
+will you? Your bundle's quite a little one. Before twelve o'clock we
+shall have finished, and we can go off to lunch. I used to send my
+things to a laundress in the Rue Poulet, but she destroyed everything
+with her chlorine and her brushes; so now I do the washing myself. It's
+so much saved; it only costs the soap. I say, you should have put those
+shirts to soak. Those little rascals of children, on my word! One would
+think their bodies were covered with soot."
+
+Gervaise, having undone her bundle, was spreading out the little ones'
+shirts, and as Madame Boche advised her to take a pailful of lye, she
+answered, "Oh, no! warm water will do. I'm used to it." She had sorted
+her laundry with several colored pieces to one side. Then, after filling
+her tub with four pails of cold water from the tap behind her, she
+plunged her pile of whites into it.
+
+"You're used to it?" repeated Madame Boche. "You were a washerwoman in
+your native place, weren't you, my dear?"
+
+Gervaise, with her sleeves pushed back, displayed the graceful arms of
+a young blonde, as yet scarcely reddened at the elbows, and started
+scrubbing her laundry. She spread a shirt out on the narrow rubbing
+board which was water-bleached and eroded by years of use. She rubbed
+soap into the shirt, turned it over, and soaped the other side. Before
+replying to Madame Boche she grasped her beetle and began to pound
+away so that her shouted phrases were punctuated with loud and rhythmic
+thumps.
+
+"Yes, yes, a washerwoman--When I was ten--That's twelve years ago--We
+used to go to the river--It smelt nicer there than it does here--You
+should have seen, there was a nook under the trees, with clear running
+water--You know, at Plassans--Don't you know Plassans?--It's near
+Marseilles."
+
+"How you go at it!" exclaimed Madame Boche, amazed at the strength
+of her blows. "You could flatten out a piece of iron with your little
+lady-like arms."
+
+The conversation continued in a very high volume. At times, the
+concierge, not catching what was said, was obliged to lean forward. All
+the linen was beaten, and with a will! Gervaise plunged it into the tub
+again, and then took it out once more, each article separately, to rub
+it over with soap a second time and brush it. With one hand she held
+the article firmly on the plank; with the other, which grasped the short
+couch-grass brush, she extracted from the linen a dirty lather, which
+fell in long drips. Then, in the slight noise caused by the brush, the
+two women drew together, and conversed in a more intimate way.
+
+"No, we're not married," resumed Gervaise. "I don't hide it. Lantier
+isn't so nice for any one to care to be his wife. If it weren't for the
+children! I was fourteen and he was eighteen when we had our first one.
+It happened in the usual way, you know how it is. I wasn't happy at
+home. Old man Macquart would kick me in the tail whenever he felt like
+it, for no reason at all. I had to have some fun outside. We might have
+been married, but--I forget why--our parents wouldn't consent."
+
+She shook her hands, which were growing red in the white suds. "The
+water's awfully hard in Paris."
+
+Madame Boche was now washing only very slowly. She kept leaving off,
+making her work last as long as she could, so as to remain there, to
+listen to that story, which her curiosity had been hankering to know for
+a fortnight past. Her mouth was half open in the midst of her big, fat
+face; her eyes, which were almost at the top of her head, were gleaming.
+She was thinking, with the satisfaction of having guessed right.
+
+"That's it, the little one gossips too much. There's been a row."
+
+Then, she observed out loud, "He isn't nice, then?"
+
+"Don't mention it!" replied Gervaise. "He used to behave very well in
+the country; but, since we've been in Paris, he's been unbearable.
+I must tell you that his mother died last year and left him some
+money--about seventeen hundred francs. He would come to Paris, so, as
+old Macquart was forever knocking me about without warning, I consented
+to come away with him. We made the journey with two children. He was to
+set me up as a laundress, and work himself at his trade of a hatter.
+We should have been very happy; but, you see, Lantier's ambitious and a
+spendthrift, a fellow who only thinks of amusing himself. In short, he's
+not worth much. On arriving, we went to the Hotel Montmartre, in the Rue
+Montmartre. And then there were dinners, and cabs, and the theatre; a
+watch for himself and a silk dress for me, for he's not unkind when he's
+got the money. You understand, he went in for everything, and so well
+that at the end of two months we were cleaned out. It was then that we
+came to live at the Hotel Boncoeur, and that this horrible life began."
+
+She interrupted herself. A lump had suddenly risen in her throat, and
+she could scarcely restrain her tears. She had finished brushing the
+things.
+
+"I must go and fetch my hot water," she murmured.
+
+But Madame Boche, greatly disappointed at this break off in the
+disclosures, called to the wash-house boy, who was passing, "My little
+Charles, kindly get madame a pail of hot water; she's in a hurry."
+
+The youth took the bucket and brought it back filled. Gervaise paid him;
+it was a sou the pailful. She poured the hot water into the tub, and
+soaped the things a last time with her hands, leaning over them in a
+mass of steam, which deposited small beads of grey vapor in her light
+hair.
+
+"Here put some soda in, I've got some by me," said the concierge,
+obligingly.
+
+And she emptied into Gervaise's tub what remained of a bag of soda which
+she had brought with her. She also offered her some of the chemical
+water, but the young woman declined it; it was only good for grease and
+wine stains.
+
+"I think he's rather a loose fellow," resumed Madame Boche, returning to
+Lantier, but without naming him.
+
+Gervaise, bent almost double, her hands all shriveled, and thrust in
+amongst the clothes, merely tossed her head.
+
+"Yes, yes," continued the other, "I have noticed several little
+things--" But she suddenly interrupted herself, as Gervaise jumped up,
+with a pale face, and staring wildly at her. Then she exclaimed, "Oh,
+no! I don't know anything! He likes to laugh a bit, I think, that's all.
+For instance, you know the two girls who lodge at my place, Adele and
+Virginie. Well, he larks about with 'em, but he just flirts for sport."
+
+The young woman standing before her, her face covered with perspiration,
+the water dripping from her arms, continued to stare at her with a fixed
+and penetrating look. Then the concierge got excited, giving herself a
+blow on the chest, and pledging her word of honor, she cried:
+
+"I know nothing, I mean it when I say so!"
+
+Then calming herself, she added in a gentle voice, as if speaking to a
+person on whom loud protestations would have no effect, "I think he has
+a frank look about the eyes. He'll marry you, my dear, I'm sure of it."
+
+Gervaise wiped her forehead with her wet hand. Shaking her head again,
+she pulled another garment out of the water. Both of them kept silence
+for a moment. The wash-house was quieting down, for eleven o'clock had
+struck. Half of the washerwomen were perched on the edge of their tubs,
+eating sausages between slices of bread and drinking from open bottles
+of wine. Only housewives who had come to launder small bundles of family
+linen were hurrying to finish.
+
+Occasional beetle blows could still be heard amid the subdued laughter
+and gossip half-choked by the greedy chewing of jawbones. The steam
+engine never stopped. Its vibrant, snorting voice seemed to fill the
+entire hall, though not one of the women even heard it. It was like the
+breathing of the wash-house, its hot breath collecting under the ceiling
+rafters in an eternal floating mist.
+
+The heat was becoming intolerable. Through the tall windows on the left
+sunlight was streaming in, touching the steamy vapors with opalescent
+tints of soft pinks and grayish blues. Charles went from window to
+window, letting down the heavy canvas awnings. Then he crossed to the
+shady side to open the ventilators. He was applauded by cries and hand
+clapping and a rough sort of gaiety spread around. Soon even the last of
+the beetle-pounding stopped.
+
+With full mouths, the washerwomen could only make gestures. It became
+so quiet that the grating sound of the fireman shoveling coal into the
+engine's firebox could be heard at regular intervals from far at the
+other end.
+
+Gervaise was washing her colored things in the hot water thick with
+lather, which she had kept for the purpose. When she had finished,
+she drew a trestle towards her and hung across it all the different
+articles; the drippings from which made bluish puddles on the floor; and
+she commenced rinsing. Behind her, the cold water tap was set running
+into a vast tub fixed to the ground, and across which were two wooden
+bars whereon to lay the clothes. High up in the air were two other bars
+for the things to finish dripping on.
+
+"We're almost finished, and not a bad job," said Madame Boche. "I'll
+wait and help you wring all that."
+
+"Oh! it's not worth while; I'm much obliged though," replied the young
+woman, who was kneading with her hands and sousing the colored things in
+some clean water. "If I'd any sheets, it would be another thing."
+
+But she had, however, to accept the concierge's assistance. They were
+wringing between them, one at each end, a woolen skirt of a washed-out
+chestnut color, from which dribbled a yellowish water, when Madame Boche
+exclaimed:
+
+"Why, there's tall Virginie! What has she come here to wash, when all
+her wardrobe that isn't on her would go into a pocket handkerchief?"
+
+Gervaise jerked her head up. Virginie was a girl of her own age, taller
+than she was, dark and pretty in spite of her face being rather long and
+narrow. She had on an old black dress with flounces, and a red ribbon
+round her neck; and her hair was done up carefully, the chignon being
+enclosed in a blue silk net. She stood an instant in the middle of the
+central alley, screwing up her eyes as though seeking someone; then,
+when she caught sight of Gervaise, she passed close to her, erect,
+insolent, and with a swinging gait, and took a place in the same row,
+five tubs away from her.
+
+"There's a freak for you!" continued Madame Boche in a lower tone
+of voice. "She never does any laundry, not even a pair of cuffs. A
+seamstress who doesn't even sew on a loose button! She's just like her
+sister, the brass burnisher, that hussy Adele, who stays away from her
+job two days out of three. Nobody knows who their folks are or how they
+make a living. Though, if I wanted to talk . . . What on earth is she
+scrubbing there? A filthy petticoat. I'll wager it's seen some lovely
+sights, that petticoat!"
+
+Madame Boche was evidently trying to make herself agreeable to Gervaise.
+The truth was she often took a cup of coffee with Adele and Virginia,
+when the girls had any money. Gervaise did not answer, but hurried over
+her work with feverish hands. She had just prepared her blue in a little
+tub that stood on three legs. She dipped in the linen things, and shook
+them an instant at the bottom of the colored water, the reflection of
+which had a pinky tinge; and after wringing them lightly, she spread
+them out on the wooden bars up above. During the time she was occupied
+with this work, she made a point of turning her back on Virginie. But
+she heard her chuckles; she could feel her sidelong glances. Virginie
+appeared only to have come there to provoke her. At one moment, Gervaise
+having turned around, they both stared into each other's faces.
+
+"Leave her alone," whispered Madame Boche. "You're not going to pull
+each other's hair out, I hope. When I tell you there's nothing to it! It
+isn't her, anyhow!"
+
+At this moment, as the young woman was hanging up the last article of
+clothing, there was a sound of laughter at the door of the wash-house.
+
+"Here are two brats who want their mamma!" cried Charles.
+
+All the women leant forward. Gervaise recognized Claude and Etienne. As
+soon as they caught sight of her, they ran to her through the puddles,
+the heels of their unlaced shoes resounding on the flagstones. Claude,
+the eldest, held his little brother by the hand. The women, as they
+passed them, uttered little exclamations of affection as they noticed
+their frightened though smiling faces. And they stood there, in front
+of their mother, without leaving go of each other's hands, and holding
+their fair heads erect.
+
+"Has papa sent you?" asked Gervaise.
+
+But as she stooped to tie the laces of Etienne's shoes, she saw the key
+of their room on one of Claude's fingers, with the brass number hanging
+from it.
+
+"Why, you've brought the key!" she said, greatly surprised. "What's that
+for?"
+
+The child, seeing the key which he had forgotten on his finger, appeared
+to recollect, and exclaimed in his clear voice:
+
+"Papa's gone away."
+
+"He's gone to buy the lunch, and told you to come here to fetch me?"
+
+Claude looked at his brother, hesitated, no longer recollecting. Then
+he resumed all in a breath: "Papa's gone away. He jumped off the bed,
+he put all the things in the trunk, he carried the trunk down to a cab.
+He's gone away."
+
+Gervaise, who was squatting down, slowly rose to her feet, her face
+ghastly pale. She put her hands to her cheeks and temples, as though she
+felt her head was breaking; and she could find only these words, which
+she repeated twenty times in the same tone of voice:
+
+"Ah! good heavens!--ah! good heavens!--ah! good heavens!"
+
+Madame Boche, however, also questioned the child, quite delighted at the
+chance of hearing the whole story.
+
+"Come, little one, you must tell us just what happened. It was he who
+locked the door and who told you to bring the key, wasn't it?" And,
+lowering her voice, she whispered in Claude's ear: "Was there a lady in
+the cab?"
+
+The child again got confused. Then he recommenced his story in a
+triumphant manner: "He jumped off the bed, he put all the things in the
+trunk. He's gone away."
+
+Then, when Madame Boche let him go, he drew his brother in front of the
+tap, and they amused themselves by turning on the water. Gervaise was
+unable to cry. She was choking, leaning back against her tub, her face
+still buried in her hands. Brief shudders rocked her body and she wailed
+out long sighs while pressing her hands tighter against her eyes, as
+though abandoning herself to the blackness of desolation, a dark, deep
+pit into which she seemed to be falling.
+
+"Come, my dear, pull yourself together!" murmured Madame Boche.
+
+"If you only knew! If you only knew!" said she at length very faintly.
+"He sent me this morning to pawn my shawl and my chemises to pay for
+that cab."
+
+And she burst out crying. The memory of the events of that morning
+and of her trip to the pawn-place tore from her the sobs that had been
+choking her throat. That abominable trip to the pawn-place was the thing
+that hurt most in all her sorrow and despair. Tears were streaming down
+her face but she didn't think of using her handkerchief.
+
+"Be reasonable, do be quiet, everyone's looking at you," Madame Boche,
+who hovered round her, kept repeating. "How can you worry yourself so
+much on account of a man? You loved him, then, all the same, did you,
+my poor darling? A little while ago you were saying all sorts of things
+against him; and now you're crying for him, and almost breaking your
+heart. Dear me, how silly we all are!"
+
+Then she became quite maternal.
+
+"A pretty little woman like you! Can it be possible? One may tell you
+everything now, I suppose. Well! You recollect when I passed under your
+window, I already had my suspicions. Just fancy, last night, when Adele
+came home, I heard a man's footsteps with hers. So I thought I would
+see who it was. I looked up the staircase. The fellow was already on the
+second landing; but I certainly recognized Monsieur Lantier's overcoat.
+Boche, who was on the watch this morning, saw him tranquilly nod adieu.
+He was with Adele, you know. Virginie has a situation now, where she
+goes twice a week. Only it's highly imprudent all the same, for they've
+only one room and an alcove, and I can't very well say where Virginie
+managed to sleep."
+
+She interrupted herself an instant, turned round, and then resumed,
+subduing her loud voice:
+
+"She's laughing at seeing you cry, that heartless thing over there. I'd
+stake my life that her washing's all a pretence. She's packed off the
+other two, and she's come here so as to tell them how you take it."
+
+Gervaise removed her hands from her face and looked. When she beheld
+Virginie in front of her, amidst three or four women, speaking low and
+staring at her, she was seized with a mad rage. Her arms in front of
+her, searching the ground, she stumbled forward a few paces. Trembling
+all over, she found a bucket full of water, grabbed it with both hands,
+and emptied it at Virginie.
+
+"The virago!" yelled tall Virginie.
+
+She had stepped back, and her boots alone got wet. The other women, who
+for some minutes past had all been greatly upset by Gervaise's tears,
+jostled each other in their anxiety to see the fight. Some, who were
+finishing their lunch, got on the tops of their tubs. Others hastened
+forward, their hands smothered with soap. A ring was formed.
+
+"Ah! the virago!" repeated tall Virginie. "What's the matter with her?
+She's mad!"
+
+Gervaise, standing on the defensive, her chin thrust out, her features
+convulsed, said nothing, not having yet acquired the Paris gift of
+street gab. The other continued:
+
+"Get out! This girl's tired of wallowing about in the country; she
+wasn't twelve years old when the soldiers were at her. She even lost her
+leg serving her country. That leg's rotting off."
+
+The lookers-on burst out laughing. Virginie, seeing her success,
+advanced a couple of steps, drawing herself up to her full height, and
+yelling louder than ever:
+
+"Here! Come a bit nearer, just to see how I'll settle you! Don't you
+come annoying us here. Do I even know her, the hussy? If she'd wetted
+me, I'd have pretty soon shown her battle, as you'd have seen. Let her
+just say what I've ever done to her. Speak, you vixen; what's been done
+to you?"
+
+"Don't talk so much," stammered Gervaise. "You know well enough. Some
+one saw my husband last night. And shut up, because if you don't I'll
+most certainly strangle you."
+
+"Her husband! That's a good one! As if cripples like her had husbands!
+If he's left you it's not my fault. Surely you don't think I've stolen
+him, do you? He was much too good for you and you made him sick. Did
+you keep him on a leash? Has anyone here seen her husband? There's a
+reward."
+
+The laughter burst forth again. Gervaise contented herself with
+continually murmuring in a low tone of voice:
+
+"You know well enough, you know well enough. It's your sister. I'll
+strangle her--your sister."
+
+"Yes, go and try it on with my sister," resumed Virginie sneeringly.
+"Ah! it's my sister! That's very likely. My sister looks a trifle
+different to you; but what's that to me? Can't one come and wash one's
+clothes in peace now? Just dry up, d'ye hear, because I've had enough of
+it!"
+
+But it was she who returned to the attack, after giving five or six
+strokes with her beetle, intoxicated by the insults she had been giving
+utterance to, and worked up into a passion. She left off and recommenced
+again, speaking in this way three times:
+
+"Well, yes! it's my sister. There now, does that satisfy you? They adore
+each other. You should just see them bill and coo! And he's left you
+with your children. Those pretty kids with scabs all over their faces!
+You got one of them from a gendarme, didn't you? And you let three
+others die because you didn't want to pay excess baggage on your
+journey. It's your Lantier who told us that. Ah! he's been telling some
+fine things; he'd had enough of you!"
+
+"You dirty jade! You dirty jade! You dirty jade!" yelled Gervaise,
+beside herself, and again seized with a furious trembling. She turned
+round, looking once more about the ground; and only observing the little
+tub, she seized hold of it by the legs, and flung the whole of the
+bluing at Virginie's face.
+
+"The beast! She's spoilt my dress!" cried the latter, whose shoulder
+was sopping wet and whose left hand was dripping blue. "Just wait, you
+wretch!"
+
+In her turn she seized a bucket, and emptied it over Gervaise. Then a
+formidable battle began. They both ran along the rows of tubs, seized
+hold of the pails that were full, and returned to dash the contents
+at each other's heads. And each deluge was accompanied by a volley of
+words. Gervaise herself answered now:
+
+"There, you scum! You got it that time. It'll help to cool you."
+
+"Ah! the carrion! That's for your filth. Wash yourself for once in your
+life."
+
+"Yes, yes, I'll wash the salt out of you, you cod!"
+
+"Another one! Brush your teeth, fix yourself up for your post to-night
+at the corner of the Rue Belhomme."
+
+They ended by having to refill the buckets at the water taps, continuing
+to insult each other the while. The initial bucketfuls were so poorly
+aimed as to scarcely reach their targets, but they soon began to splash
+each other in earnest. Virginie was the first to receive a bucketful in
+the face. The water ran down, soaking her back and front. She was still
+staggering when another caught her from the side, hitting her left
+ear and drenching her chignon which then came unwound into a limp,
+bedraggled string of hair.
+
+Gervaise was hit first in the legs. One pail filled her shoes full of
+water and splashed up to her thighs. Two more wet her even higher. Soon
+both of them were soaked from top to bottom and it was impossible to
+count the hits. Their clothes were plastered to their bodies and they
+looked shrunken. Water was dripping everywhere as from umbrellas in a
+rainstorm.
+
+"They look jolly funny!" said the hoarse voice of one of the women.
+
+Everyone in the wash-house was highly amused. A good space was left
+to the combatants, as nobody cared to get splashed. Applause and jokes
+circulated in the midst of the sluice-like noise of the buckets emptied
+in rapid succession! On the floor the puddles were running one into
+another, and the two women were wading in them up to their ankles.
+Virginie, however, who had been meditating a treacherous move, suddenly
+seized hold of a pail of lye, which one of her neighbors had left there
+and threw it. The same cry arose from all. Everyone thought Gervaise
+was scalded; but only her left foot had been slightly touched. And,
+exasperated by the pain, she seized a bucket, without troubling herself
+to fill it this time, and threw it with all her might at the legs of
+Virginie, who fell to the ground. All the women spoke together.
+
+"She's broken one of her limbs!"
+
+"Well, the other tried to cook her!"
+
+"She's right, after all, the blonde one, if her man's been taken from
+her!"
+
+Madame Boche held up her arms to heaven, uttering all sorts of
+exclamations. She had prudently retreated out of the way between two
+tubs; and the children, Claude and Etienne, crying, choking, terrified,
+clung to her dress with the continuous cry of "Mamma! Mamma!" broken by
+their sobs. When she saw Virginie fall she hastened forward, and tried
+to pull Gervaise away by her skirt, repeating the while,
+
+"Come now, go home! Be reasonable. On my word, it's quite upset me.
+Never was such a butchery seen before."
+
+But she had to draw back and seek refuge again between the two tubs,
+with the children. Virginie had just flown at Gervaise's throat. She
+squeezed her round the neck, trying to strangle her. The latter freed
+herself with a violent jerk, and in her turn hung on to the other's
+hair, as though she was trying to pull her head off. The battle was
+silently resumed, without a cry, without an insult. They did not seize
+each other round the body, they attacked each other's faces with open
+hands and clawing fingers, pinching, scratching whatever they caught
+hold of. The tall, dark girl's red ribbon and blue silk hair net were
+torn off. The body of her dress, giving way at the neck, displayed
+a large portion of her shoulder; whilst the blonde, half stripped, a
+sleeve gone from her loose white jacket without her knowing how, had
+a rent in her underlinen, which exposed to view the naked line of her
+waist. Shreds of stuff flew in all directions. It was from Gervaise that
+the first blood was drawn, three long scratches from the mouth to the
+chin; and she sought to protect her eyes, shutting them at every grab
+the other made, for fear of having them torn out. No blood showed on
+Virginie as yet. Gervaise aimed at her ears, maddened at not being able
+to reach them. At length she succeeded in seizing hold of one of the
+earrings--an imitation pear in yellow glass--which she pulled out and
+slit the ear, and the blood flowed.
+
+"They're killing each other! Separate them, the vixens!" exclaimed
+several voices.
+
+The other women had drawn nearer. They formed themselves into two camps.
+Some were cheering the combatants on as the others were trembling and
+turning their heads away saying that it was making them sick. A large
+fight nearly broke out between the two camps as the women called each
+other names and brandished their fists threateningly. Three loud slaps
+rang out.
+
+Madame Boche, meanwhile, was trying to discover the wash-house boy.
+
+"Charles! Charles! Wherever has he got to?"
+
+And she found him in the front rank, looking on with his arms folded.
+He was a big fellow, with an enormous neck. He was laughing and enjoying
+the sight of the skin which the two women displayed. The little blonde
+was as fat as a quail. It would be fun if her chemise burst open.
+
+"Why," murmured he, blinking his eye, "she's got a strawberry birthmark
+under her arm."
+
+"What! You're there!" cried Madame Boche, as she caught sight of him.
+"Just come and help us separate them. You can easily separate them, you
+can!"
+
+"Oh, no! thank you, not if I know it," said he coolly. "To get my eye
+scratched like I did the other day, I suppose! I'm not here for that
+sort of thing; I have enough to do without that. Don't be afraid, a
+little bleeding does 'em good; it'll soften 'em."
+
+The concierge then talked of fetching the police; but the mistress of
+the wash-house, the delicate young woman with the red, inflamed eyes,
+would not allow her to do this. She kept saying:
+
+"No, no, I won't; it'll compromise my establishment."
+
+The struggle on the ground continued. All on a sudden, Virginie raised
+herself up on her knees. She had just gotten hold of a beetle and held
+it on high. She had a rattle in her throat and in an altered voice, she
+exclaimed,
+
+"Here's something that'll settle you! Get your dirty linen ready!"
+
+Gervaise quickly thrust out her hand, and also seized a beetle, and held
+it up like a club; and she too spoke in a choking voice,
+
+"Ah! you want to wash. Let me get hold of your skin that I may beat it
+into dish-cloths!"
+
+For a moment they remained there, on their knees, menacing each other.
+Their hair all over their faces, their breasts heaving, muddy, swelling
+with rage, they watched one another, as they waited and took breath.
+Gervaise gave the first blow. Her beetle glided off Virginie's shoulder,
+and she at once threw herself on one side to avoid the latter's beetle,
+which grazed her hip. Then, warming to their work they struck at each
+other like washerwomen beating clothes, roughly, and in time. Whenever
+there was a hit, the sound was deadened, so that one might have thought
+it a blow in a tub full of water. The other women around them no longer
+laughed. Several had gone off saying that it quite upset them; those who
+remained stretched out their necks, their eyes lighted up with a gleam
+of cruelty, admiring the pluck displayed. Madame Boche had led Claude
+and Etienne away, and one could hear at the other end of the building
+the sound of their sobs, mingled with the sonorous shocks of the two
+beetles. But Gervaise suddenly yelled. Virginie had caught her a whack
+with all her might on her bare arm, just above the elbow. A large red
+mark appeared, the flesh at once began to swell. Then she threw herself
+upon Virginie, and everyone thought she was going to beat her to death.
+
+"Enough! Enough!" was cried on all sides.
+
+Her face bore such a terrible expression, that no one dared approach
+her. Her strength seemed to have increased tenfold. She seized Virginie
+round the waist, bent her down and pressed her face against the
+flagstones. Raising her beetle she commenced beating as she used to beat
+at Plassans, on the banks of the Viorne, when her mistress washed the
+clothes of the garrison. The wood seemed to yield to the flesh with a
+damp sound. At each whack a red weal marked the white skin.
+
+"Oh, oh!" exclaimed the boy Charles, opening his eyes to their full
+extent and gloating over the sight.
+
+Laughter again burst forth from the lookers-on, but soon the cry,
+"Enough! Enough!" recommenced. Gervaise heard not, neither did she tire.
+She examined her work, bent over it, anxious not to leave a dry
+place. She wanted to see the whole of that skin beaten, covered with
+contusions. And she talked, seized with a ferocious gaiety, recalling a
+washerwoman's song,
+
+     "Bang! Bang! Margot at her tub.
+     Bang! Bang! Beating rub-a-dub.
+     Bang! Bang! Tries to wash her heart.
+     Bang! Bang! Black with grief to part."
+
+And then she resumed,
+
+     "That's for you, that's for your sister.
+     That's for Lantier.
+     When you next see them,
+     You can give them that.
+     Attention! I'm going to begin again.
+     That's for Lantier, that's for your sister.
+     That's for you.
+     Bang! Bang! Margot at her tub.
+     Bang! Bang! Beating rub-a-dub--"
+
+The others were obliged to drag Virginie away from her. The tall, dark
+girl, her face bathed in tears and purple with shame, picked up her
+things and hastened away. She was vanquished. Gervaise slipped on the
+sleeve of her jacket again, and fastened up her petticoats. Her arm
+pained her a good deal, and she asked Madame Boche to place her bundle
+of clothes on her shoulder. The concierge referred to the battle, spoke
+of her emotions, and talked of examining the young woman's person, just
+to see.
+
+"You may, perhaps, have something broken. I heard a tremendous blow."
+
+But Gervaise wanted to go home. She made no reply to the pitying remarks
+and noisy ovation of the other women who surrounded her, erect in their
+aprons. When she was laden she gained the door, where the children
+awaited her.
+
+"Two hours, that makes two sous," said the mistress of the wash-house,
+already back at her post in the glazed closet.
+
+Why two sous? She no longer understood that she was asked to pay for her
+place there. Then she gave the two sous; and limping very much beneath
+the weight of the wet clothes on her shoulder, the water dripping from
+off her, her elbow black and blue, her cheek covered with blood, she
+went off, dragging Claude and Etienne with her bare arms, whilst they
+trotted along on either side of her, still trembling, and their faces
+besmeared with their tears.
+
+Once she was gone, the wash-house resumed its roaring tumult. The
+washerwomen had eaten their bread and drunk their wine. Their faces were
+lit up and their spirits enlivened by the fight between Gervaise and
+Virginie.
+
+The long lines of tubs were astir again with the fury of thrashing
+arms, of craggy profiles, of marionettes with bent backs and slumping
+shoulders that twisted and jerked violently as though on hinges.
+Conversations went on from one end to the other in loud voices. Laughter
+and coarse remarks crackled through the ceaseless gurgling of the water.
+Faucets were sputtering, buckets spilling, rivulets flowing underneath
+the rows of washboards. Throughout the huge shed rising wisps of steam
+reflected a reddish tint, pierced here and there by disks of sunlight,
+golden globes that had leaked through holes in the awnings. The air was
+stiflingly warm and odorous with soap.
+
+Suddenly the hall was filled with a white mist. The huge copper lid of
+the lye-water kettle was rising mechanically along a notched shaft, and
+from the gaping copper hollow within its wall of bricks came whirling
+clouds of vapor. Meanwhile, at one side the drying machines were hard
+at work; within their cast-iron cylinders bundles of laundry were being
+wrung dry by the centrifugal force of the steam engine, which was still
+puffing, steaming, jolting the wash-house with the ceaseless labor of
+its iron limbs.
+
+When Gervaise turned into the entry of the Hotel Boncoeur, her tears
+again mastered her. It was a dark, narrow passage, with a gutter for the
+dirty water running alongside the wall; and the stench which she again
+encountered there caused her to think of the fortnight she had passed
+in the place with Lantier--a fortnight of misery and quarrels, the
+recollection of which was now a bitter regret. It seemed to bring her
+abandonment home to her.
+
+Upstairs the room was bare, in spite of the sunshine which entered
+through the open window. That blaze of light, that kind of dancing
+golden dust, exposed the lamentable condition of the blackened ceiling,
+and of the walls half denuded of paper, all the more. The only thing
+left hanging in the room was a woman's small neckerchief, twisted like
+a piece of string. The children's bedstead, drawn into the middle of
+the apartment, displayed the chest of drawers, the open drawers of which
+exposed their emptiness. Lantier had washed himself and had used up the
+last of the pomatum--two sous' worth of pomatum in a playing card;
+the greasy water from his hands filled the basin. And he had forgotten
+nothing. The corner which until then had been filled by the trunk seemed
+to Gervaise an immense empty space. Even the little mirror which hung on
+the window-fastening was gone. When she made this discovery, she had a
+presentiment. She looked on the mantel-piece. Lantier had taken away the
+pawn tickets; the pink bundle was no longer there, between the two odd
+zinc candlesticks.
+
+She hung her laundry over the back of a chair and just stood there,
+gazing around at the furniture. She was so dulled and bewildered that
+she could no longer cry. She had only one sou left. Then, hearing Claude
+and Etienne laughing merrily by the window, their troubles already
+forgotten, she went to them and put her arms about them, losing herself
+for a moment in contemplation of that long gray avenue where, that very
+morning, she had watched the awakening of the working population, of the
+immense work-shop of Paris.
+
+At this hour immense heat was rising from the pavement and from all the
+furnaces in the factories, setting alight a reflecting oven over the
+city and beyond the octroi wall. Out upon this very pavement, into this
+furnace blast, she had been tossed, alone with her little ones. As she
+glanced up and down the boulevard, she was seized with a dull dread that
+her life would be fixed there forever, between a slaughter-house and a
+hospital.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER II.
+
+Three weeks later, towards half-past eleven, one beautiful sunshiny day,
+Gervaise and Coupeau, the zinc-worker, were each partaking of a plum
+preserved in brandy, at "l'Assommoir" kept by Pere Colombe. Coupeau, who
+had been smoking a cigarette on the pavement, had prevailed on her to
+go inside as she returned from taking home a customer's washing; and her
+big square laundress's basket was on the floor beside her, behind the
+little zinc covered table.
+
+Pere Colombe's l'Assommoir was at the corner of Rue des Poissonniers
+and Boulevard de Rochechouart. The sign, in tall blue letters stretching
+from one end to the other said: Distillery. Two dusty oleanders
+planted in half casks stood beside the doorway. A long bar with its
+tin measuring cups was on the left as you entered. The large room was
+decorated with casks painted a gay yellow, bright with varnish, and
+gleaming with copper taps and hoops.
+
+On the shelves above the bar were liquor bottles, jars of fruit
+preserved in brandy, and flasks of all shapes. They completely covered
+the wall and were reflected in the mirror behind the bar as colorful
+spots of apple green, pale gold, and soft brown. The main feature of
+the establishment, however, was the distilling apparatus. It was at the
+rear, behind an oak railing in a glassed-in area. The customers could
+watch its functioning, long-necked still-pots, copper worms disappearing
+underground, a devil's kitchen alluring to drink-sodden work men in
+search of pleasant dreams.
+
+L'Assommoir was nearly empty at the lunch hour. Pere Colombe, a heavy
+man of forty, was serving a ten year old girl who had asked him to
+place four sous' worth of brandy into her cup. A shaft of sunlight came
+through the entrance to warm the floor which was always damp from the
+smokers' spitting. From everything, the casks, the bar, the entire room,
+a liquorish odor arose, an alcoholic aroma which seemed to thicken and
+befuddle the dust motes dancing in the sunlight.
+
+Coupeau was making another cigarette. He was very neat, in a short blue
+linen blouse and cap, and was laughing and showing his white teeth.
+With a projecting under jaw and a slightly snub nose, he had handsome
+chestnut eyes, and the face of a jolly dog and a thorough good fellow.
+His coarse curly hair stood erect. His skin still preserved the softness
+of his twenty-six years. Opposite to him, Gervaise, in a thin black
+woolen dress, and bareheaded, was finishing her plum which she held
+by the stalk between the tips of her fingers. They were close to the
+street, at the first of the four tables placed alongside the barrels
+facing the bar.
+
+When the zinc-worker had lit his cigarette, he placed his elbows on
+the table, thrust his face forward, and for an instant looked without
+speaking at the young woman, whose pretty fair face had that day
+the milky transparency of china. Then, alluding to a matter known to
+themselves alone, and already discussed between them, he simply asked in
+a low voice:
+
+"So it's to be 'no'? you say 'no'?"
+
+"Oh! most decidedly 'no' Monsieur Coupeau," quietly replied Gervaise
+with a smile. "I hope you're not going to talk to me about that here.
+You know you promised me you would be reasonable. Had I known, I
+wouldn't have let you treat me."
+
+Coupeau kept silence, looking at her intently with a boldness. She sat
+still, at ease and friendly. At the end of a brief silence she added:
+
+"You can't really mean it. I'm an old woman; I've a big boy eight years
+old. Whatever could we two do together?"
+
+"Why!" murmured Coupeau, blinking his eyes, "what the others do, of
+course, get married!"
+
+She made a gesture of feeling annoyed. "Oh! do you think it's always
+pleasant? One can very well see you've never seen much of living. No,
+Monsieur Coupeau, I must think of serious things. Burdening oneself
+never leads to anything, you know! I've two mouths at home which are
+never tired of swallowing, I can tell you! How do you suppose I can
+bring up my little ones, if I only sit here talking indolently? And
+listen, besides that, my misfortune has been a famous lesson to me. You
+know I don't care a bit about men now. They won't catch me again for a
+long while."
+
+She spoke with such cool objectivity that it was clear she had resolved
+this in her mind, turning it about thoroughly.
+
+Coupeau was deeply moved and kept repeating: "I feel so sorry for you.
+It causes me a great deal of pain."
+
+"Yes, I know that," resumed she, "and I am sorry, Monsieur Coupeau. But
+you mustn't take it to heart. If I had any idea of enjoying myself, _mon
+Dieu!_, I would certainly rather be with you than anyone else. You're
+a good boy and gentle. Only, where's the use, as I've no inclination to
+wed? I've been for the last fortnight, now, at Madame Fauconnier's.
+The children go to school. I've work, I'm contented. So the best is to
+remain as we are, isn't it?"
+
+And she stooped down to take her basket.
+
+"You're making me talk; they must be expecting me at the shop. You'll
+easily find someone else prettier than I, Monsieur Coupeau, and who
+won't have two boys to drag about with her."
+
+He looked at the clock inserted in the frame-work of the mirror, and
+made her sit down again, exclaiming:
+
+"Don't be in such a hurry! It's only eleven thirty-five. I've still
+twenty-five minutes. You don't have to be afraid that I shall do
+anything foolish; there's the table between us. So you detest me so much
+that you won't stay and have a little chat with me."
+
+She put her basket down again, so as not to disoblige him; and they
+conversed like good friends. She had eaten her lunch before going out
+with the laundry. He had gulped down his soup and beef hurriedly to be
+able to wait for her. All the while she chatted amiably, Gervaise
+kept looking out the window at the activity on the street. It was now
+unusually crowded with the lunch time rush.
+
+Everywhere were hurried steps, swinging arms, and pushing elbows. Some
+late comers, hungry and angry at being kept extra long at the job,
+rushed across the street into the bakery. They emerged with a loaf of
+bread and went three doors farther to the Two-Headed Calf to gobble down
+a six-sou meat dish.
+
+Next door to the bakery was a grocer who sold fried potatoes and mussels
+cooked with parsley. A procession of girls went in to get hot potatoes
+wrapped in paper and cups of steaming mussels. Other pretty girls bought
+bunches of radishes. By leaning a bit, Gervaise could see into the
+sausage shop from which children issued, holding a fried chop, a sausage
+or a piece of hot blood pudding wrapped in greasy paper. The street was
+always slick with black mud, even in clear weather. A few laborers had
+already finished their lunch and were strolling aimlessly about, their
+open hands slapping their thighs, heavy from eating, slow and peaceful
+amid the hurrying crowd. A group formed in front of the door of
+l'Assommoir.
+
+"Say, Bibi-the-Smoker," demanded a hoarse voice, "aren't you going to
+buy us a round of _vitriol_?"
+
+Five laborers came in and stood by the bar.
+
+"Ah! Here's that thief, Pere Colombe!" the voice continued. "We want the
+real old stuff, you know. And full sized glasses, too."
+
+Pere Colombe served them as three more laborers entered. More blue
+smocks gathered on the street corner and some pushed their way into the
+establishment.
+
+"You're foolish! You only think of the present," Gervaise was saying to
+Coupeau. "Sure, I loved him, but after the disgusting way in which he
+left me--"
+
+They were talking of Lantier. Gervaise had not seen him again; she
+thought he was living with Virginie's sister at La Glaciere, in the
+house of that friend who was going to start a hat factory. She had no
+thought of running after him. She had been so distressed at first that
+she had thought of drowning herself in the river. But now that she had
+thought about it, everything seemed to be for the best. Lantier went
+through money so fast, that she probably never could have raised her
+children properly. Oh, she'd let him see his children, all right, if he
+bothered to come round. But as far as she was concerned, she didn't want
+him to touch her, not even with his finger tips.
+
+She told all this to Coupeau just as if her plan of life was well
+settled. Meanwhile, Coupeau never forgot his desire to possess her. He
+made a jest of everything she said, turning it into ribaldry and asking
+some very direct questions about Lantier. But he proceeded so gaily and
+which such a smile that she never thought of being offended.
+
+"So, you're the one who beat him," said he at length. "Oh! you're not
+kind. You just go around whipping people."
+
+She interrupted him with a hearty laugh. It was true, though, she had
+whipped Virginie's tall carcass. She would have delighted in strangling
+someone on that day. She laughed louder than ever when Coupeau told her
+that Virginie, ashamed at having shown so much cowardice, had left the
+neighborhood. Her face, however, preserved an expression of childish
+gentleness as she put out her plump hands, insisting she wouldn't even
+harm a fly.
+
+She began to tell Coupeau about her childhood at Plassans. She had never
+cared overmuch for men; they had always bored her. She was fourteen when
+she got involved with Lantier. She had thought it was nice because he
+said he was her husband and she had enjoyed playing a housewife. She
+was too soft-hearted and too weak. She always got passionately fond of
+people who caused her trouble later. When she loved a man, she wasn't
+thinking of having fun in the present; she was dreaming about being
+happy and living together forever.
+
+And as Coupeau, with a chuckle, spoke of her two children, saying they
+hadn't come from under a bolster, she slapped his fingers; she added
+that she was, no doubt made on the model of other women; women thought
+of their home, slaved to keep the place clean and tidy, and went to bed
+too tired at night not to go to sleep at once. Besides, she resembled
+her mother, a stout laboring woman who died at her work and who had
+served as beast of burden to old Macquart for more than twenty years.
+Her mother's shoulders had been heavy enough to smash through doors, but
+that didn't prevent her from being soft-hearted and madly attracted to
+people. And if she limped a little, she no doubt owed that to the poor
+woman, whom old Macquart used to belabor with blows. Her mother had told
+her about the times when Macquart came home drunk and brutally bruised
+her. She had probably been born with her lame leg as a result of one of
+those times.
+
+"Oh! it's scarcely anything, it's hardly perceptible," said Coupeau
+gallantly.
+
+She shook her head; she knew well enough that it could be seen; at
+forty she would look broken in two. Then she added gently, with a slight
+laugh: "It's a funny fancy of yours to fall in love with a cripple."
+
+With his elbows still on the table, he thrust his face closer to hers
+and began complimenting her in rather dubious language as though to
+intoxicate her with his words. But she kept shaking her head "no," and
+didn't allow herself to be tempted although she was flattered by the
+tone of his voice. While listening, she kept looking out the window,
+seeming to be fascinated by the interesting crowd of people passing.
+
+The shops were now almost empty. The grocer removed his last panful
+of fried potatoes from the stove. The sausage man arranged the dishes
+scattered on his counter. Great bearded workmen were as playful as
+young boys, clumping along in their hobnailed boots. Other workmen were
+smoking, staring up into the sky and blinking their eyes. Factory bells
+began to ring in the distance, but the workers, in no hurry, relit their
+pipes. Later, after being tempted by one wineshop after another, they
+finally decided to return to their jobs, but were still dragging their
+feet.
+
+Gervaise amused herself by watching three workmen, a tall fellow and
+two short ones who turned to look back every few yards; they ended by
+descending the street, and came straight to Pere Colombe's l'Assommoir.
+
+"Ah, well," murmured she, "there're three fellows who don't seem
+inclined for work!"
+
+"Why!" said Coupeau, "I know the tall one, it's My-Boots, a comrade of
+mine."
+
+Pere Colombe's l'Assommoir was now full. You had to shout to be heard.
+Fists often pounded on the bar, causing the glasses to clink. Everyone
+was standing, hands crossed over belly or held behind back. The drinking
+groups crowded close to one another. Some groups, by the casks, had to
+wait a quarter of an hour before being able to order their drinks of
+Pere Colombe.
+
+"Hallo! It's that aristocrat, Young Cassis!" cried My-Boots, bringing
+his hand down roughly on Coupeau's shoulder. "A fine gentleman, who
+smokes paper, and wears shirts! So we want to do the grand with our
+sweetheart; we stand her little treats!"
+
+"Shut up! Don't bother me!" replied Coupeau, greatly annoyed.
+
+But the other added, with a chuckle, "Right you are! We know what's
+what, my boy. Muffs are muffs, that's all!"
+
+He turned his back after leering terribly as he looked at Gervaise. The
+latter drew back, feeling rather frightened. The smoke from the pipes,
+the strong odor of all those men, ascended in the air, already foul with
+the fumes of alcohol; and she felt a choking sensation in her throat,
+and coughed slightly.
+
+"Oh, what a horrible thing it is to drink!" said she in a low voice.
+
+And she related that formerly at Plassans she used to drink anisette
+with her mother. But on one occasion it nearly killed her, and that
+disgusted her with it; now, she could never touch any liqueurs.
+
+"You see," added she, pointing to her glass, "I've eaten my plum; only I
+must leave the juice, because it would make me ill."
+
+For himself, Coupeau couldn't understand how anyone could drink glass
+after glass of cheap brandy. A brandied plum occasionally could not
+hurt, but as for cheap brandy, absinthe and the other strong stuff, no,
+not for him, no matter how much his comrades teased him about it.
+He stayed out on the sidewalk when his friends went into low
+establishments. Coupeau's father had smashed his head open one day when
+he fell from the eaves of No. 25 on Rue Coquenard. He was drunk. This
+memory keeps Coupeau's entire family from the drink. Every time Coupeau
+passed that spot, he thought he would rather lick up water from the
+gutter than accept a free drink in a bar. He would always say: "In our
+trade, you have to have steady legs."
+
+Gervaise had taken up her basket again. She did not rise from her seat
+however, but held the basket on her knees, with a vacant look in her
+eyes and lost in thought, as though the young workman's words had
+awakened within her far-off thoughts of existence. And she said again,
+slowly, and without any apparent change of manner:
+
+"_Mon Dieu_! I'm not ambitious; I don't ask for much. My desire is to
+work in peace, always to have bread to eat and a decent place to sleep
+in, you know; with a bed, a table, and two chairs, nothing more. If I
+can, I'd like to raise my children to be good citizens. Also, I'd like
+not to be beaten up, if I ever again live with a man. It's not my idea
+of amusement." She pondered, thinking if there was anything else she
+wanted, but there wasn't anything of importance. Then, after a moment
+she went on, "Yes, when one reaches the end, one might wish to die in
+one's bed. For myself, having trudged through life, I should like to die
+in my bed, in my own home."
+
+And she rose from her seat. Coupeau, who cordially approved her wishes,
+was already standing up, anxious about the time. But they did not leave
+yet. Gervaise was curious enough to go to the far end of the room for
+a look at the big still behind the oak railing. It was chugging away in
+the little glassed-in courtyard. Coupeau explained its workings to
+her, pointing at the different parts of the machinery, showing her the
+trickling of the small stream of limpid alcohol. Not a single gay puff
+of steam was coming forth from the endless coils. The breathing could
+barely be heard. It sounded muffled as if from underground. It was like
+a sombre worker, performing dark deeds in the bright daylight, strong
+but silent.
+
+My-Boots, accompanied by his two comrades, came to lean on the railing
+until they could get a place at the bar. He laughed, looking at the
+machine. _Tonnerre de Dieu_, that's clever. There's enough stuff in its
+big belly to last for weeks. He wouldn't mind if they just fixed the
+end of the tube in his mouth, so he could feel the fiery spirits flowing
+down to his heels like a river. It would be better than the tiny sips
+doled out by Pere Colombe! His two comrades laughed with him, saying
+that My-Boots was quite a guy after all.
+
+The huge still continued to trickle forth its alcoholic sweat.
+Eventually it would invade the bar, flow out along the outer Boulevards,
+and inundate the immense expanse of Paris.
+
+Gervaise stepped back, shivering. She tried to smile as she said:
+
+"It's foolish, but that still and the liquor gives me the creeps."
+
+Then, returning to the idea she nursed of a perfect happiness, she
+resumed: "Now, ain't I right? It's much the nicest isn't it--to have
+plenty of work, bread to eat, a home of one's own, and to be able to
+bring up one's children and to die in one's bed?"
+
+"And never to be beaten," added Coupeau gaily. "But I would never beat
+you, if you would only try me, Madame Gervaise. You've no cause for
+fear. I don't drink and then I love you too much. Come, shall it be
+marriage? I'll get you divorced and make you my wife."
+
+He was speaking low, whispering at the back of her neck while she made
+her way through the crowd of men with her basket held before her. She
+kept shaking her head "no." Yet she turned around to smile at him,
+apparently happy to know that he never drank. Yes, certainly, she would
+say "yes" to him, except she had already sworn to herself never to start
+up with another man. Eventually they reached the door and went out.
+
+When they left, l'Assommoir was packed to the door, spilling its hubbub
+of rough voices and its heavy smell of vitriol into the street. My-Boots
+could be heard railing at Pere Colombe, calling him a scoundrel and
+accusing him of only half filling his glass. He didn't have to come in
+here. He'd never come back. He suggested to his comrades a place near
+the Barriere Saint-Denis where you drank good stuff straight.
+
+"Ah," sighed Gervaise when they reached the sidewalk. "You can breathe
+out here. Good-bye, Monsieur Coupeau, and thank you. I must hurry now."
+
+He seized her hand as she started along the boulevard, insisting, "Take
+a walk with me along Rue de la Goutte-d'Or. It's not much farther for
+you. I've got to see my sister before going back to work. We'll keep
+each other company."
+
+In the end, Gervaise agreed and they walked beside each other along the
+Rue des Poissonniers, although she did not take his arm. He told
+her about his family. His mother, an old vest-maker, now had to do
+housekeeping because her eyesight was poor. Her birthday was the third
+of last month and she was sixty-two. He was the youngest. One of his
+sisters, a widow of thirty-six, worked in a flower shop and lived in
+the Batignolles section, on Rue des Moines. The other sister was thirty
+years old now. She had married a deadpan chainmaker named Lorilleux.
+That's where he was going now. They lived in a big tenement on the left
+side. He ate with them in the evenings; it saved a bit for all of them.
+But he had been invited out this evening and he was going to tell her
+not to expect him.
+
+Gervaise, who was listening to him, suddenly interrupted him to ask,
+with a smile: "So you're called 'Young Cassis,' Monsieur Coupeau?"
+
+"Oh!" replied he, "it's a nickname my mates have given me because I
+generally drink 'cassis' when they force me to accompany them to the
+wineshop. It's no worse to be called Young Cassis than My-Boots, is it?"
+
+"Of course not. Young Cassis isn't an ugly name," observed the young
+woman.
+
+And she questioned him about his work. He was still working there,
+behind the octroi wall at the new hospital. Oh! there was no want of
+work, he would not be finished there for a year at least. There were
+yards and yards of gutters!
+
+"You know," said he, "I can see the Hotel Boncoeur when I'm up there.
+Yesterday you were at the window, and I waved my arms, but you didn't
+notice me."
+
+They had already gone about a hundred paces along the Rue de la
+Goutte-d'Or, when he stood still and raising his eyes, said:
+
+"That's the house. I was born farther on, at No. 22. But this house is,
+all the same, a fine block of masonry! It's as big as a barrack inside!"
+
+Gervaise looked up, examining the facade. On the street side, the
+tenement had five stories, each with fifteen windows, whose black
+shutters with their broken slats gave an air of desolation to the wide
+expanse of wall. Four shops occupied the ground floor. To the right
+of the entrance, a large, greasy hash house, and to the left, a coal
+dealer, a notions seller, and an umbrella merchant. The building
+appeared even larger than it was because it had on each side a small,
+low building which seemed to lean against it for support. This immense,
+squared-off building was outlined against the sky. Its unplastered side
+walls were as bare as prison walls, except for rows of roughly jutting
+stones which suggested jaws full of decayed teeth yawning vacantly.
+
+Gervaise was gazing at the entrance with interest. The high, arched
+doorway rose to the second floor and opened onto a deep porch, at
+the end of which could be seen the pale daylight of a courtyard. This
+entranceway was paved like the street, and down the center flowed a
+streamlet of pink-stained water.
+
+"Come in," said Coupeau, "no one will eat you."
+
+Gervaise wanted to wait for him in the street. However, she could not
+resist going through the porch as far as the concierge's room on the
+right. And there, on the threshold, she raised her eyes. Inside, the
+building was six stories high, with four identical plain walls enclosing
+the broad central court. The drab walls were corroded by yellowish spots
+and streaked by drippings from the roof gutters. The walls went straight
+up to the eaves with no molding or ornament except the angles on the
+drain pipes at each floor. Here the sink drains added their stains. The
+glass window panes resembled murky water. Mattresses of checkered
+blue ticking were hanging out of several windows to air. Clothes lines
+stretched from other windows with family washing hanging to dry. On a
+third floor line was a baby's diaper, still implanted with filth. This
+crowded tenement was bursting at the seams, spilling out poverty and
+misery through every crevice.
+
+Each of the four walls had, at ground level, a narrow entrance,
+plastered without a trace of woodwork. This opened into a vestibule
+containing a dirt-encrusted staircase which spiraled upward. They were
+each labeled with one of the first four letters of the alphabet painted
+on the wall.
+
+Several large work-shops with weather-blackened skylights were scattered
+about the court. Near the concierge's room was the dyeing establishment
+responsible for the pink streamlet. Puddles of water infested the
+courtyard, along with wood shavings and coal cinders. Grass and weeds
+grew between the paving stones. The unforgiving sunlight seemed to cut
+the court into two parts. On the shady side was a dripping water tap
+with three small hens scratching for worms with their filth-smeared
+claws.
+
+Gervaise slowly gazed about, lowering her glance from the sixth floor
+to the paving stones, then raising it again, surprised at the vastness,
+feeling as it were in the midst of a living organ, in the very heart of
+a city, and interested in the house, as though it were a giant before
+her.
+
+"Is madame seeking for any one?" called out the inquisitive concierge,
+emerging from her room.
+
+The young woman explained that she was waiting for a friend. She
+returned to the street; then as Coupeau did not come, she went back to
+the courtyard seized with the desire to take another look. She did not
+think the house ugly. Amongst the rags hanging from the windows she
+discovered various cheerful touches--a wall-flower blooming in a pot, a
+cage of chirruping canaries, shaving-glasses shining like stars in
+the depth of the shadow. A carpenter was singing in his work-shop,
+accompanied by the whining of his plane. The blacksmith's hammers were
+ringing rhythmically.
+
+In contrast to the apparent wretched poverty, at nearly every open
+window appeared the begrimed faces of laughing children. Women with
+peaceful faces could be seen bent over their sewing. The rooms were
+empty of men who had gone back to work after lunch. The whole tenement
+was tranquil except for the sounds from the work-shops below which
+served as a sort of lullaby that went on, unceasingly, always the same.
+
+The only thing she did not like was the courtyard's dampness. She would
+want rooms at the rear, on the sunny side. Gervaise took a few more
+steps into the courtyard, inhaling the characteristic odor of the slums,
+comprised of dust and rotten garbage. But the sharp odor of the waste
+water from the dye shop was strong, and Gervaise thought it smelled
+better here than at the Hotel Boncoeur. She chose a window for herself,
+the one at the far left with a small window box planted with scarlet
+runners.
+
+"I'm afraid I've kept you waiting rather a long time," said Coupeau,
+whom she suddenly heard close beside her. "They always make an awful
+fuss whenever I don't dine with them, and it was worse than ever to-day
+as my sister had bought some veal."
+
+And as Gervaise had slightly started with surprise, he continued
+glancing around in his turn:
+
+"You were looking at the house. It's always all let from the top to
+the bottom. There are three hundred lodgers, I think. If I had any
+furniture, I would have secured a small room. One would be comfortable
+here, don't you think so?"
+
+"Yes, one would be comfortable," murmured Gervaise. "In our street at
+Plassans there weren't near so many people. Look, that's pretty--that
+window up on the fifth floor, with the scarlet runners."
+
+The zinc-worker's obstinate desire made him ask her once more whether
+she would or she wouldn't. They could rent a place here as soon as they
+found a bed. She hurried out the arched entranceway, asking him not
+to start that subject again. There was as much chance of this building
+collapsing as there was of her sleeping under the same blanket with him.
+Still, when Coupeau left her in front of Madame Fauconnier's shop, he
+was allowed to hold her hand for a moment.
+
+For a month the young woman and the zinc-worker were the best of
+friends. He admired her courage, when he beheld her half killing herself
+with work, keeping her children tidy and clean, and yet finding time at
+night to do a little sewing. Often other women were hopelessly messy,
+forever nibbling or gadding about, but she wasn't like them at all. She
+was much too serious. Then she would laugh, and modestly defend herself.
+It was her misfortune that she had not always been good, having been
+with a man when only fourteen. Then too, she had often helped her
+mother empty a bottle of anisette. But she had learned a few things
+from experience. He was wrong to think of her as strong-willed; her will
+power was very weak. She had always let herself be pushed into things
+because she didn't want to hurt someone's feelings. Her one hope now was
+to live among decent people, for living among bad people was like being
+hit over the head. It cracks your skull. Whenever she thought of the
+future, she shivered. Everything she had seen in life so far, especially
+when a child, had given her lessons to remember.
+
+Coupeau, however, chaffed her about her gloomy thoughts, and brought
+back all her courage by trying to pinch her hips. She pushed him away
+from her, and slapped his hands, whilst he called out laughingly that,
+for a weak woman, she was not a very easy capture. He, who always joked
+about everything did not trouble himself regarding the future. One day
+followed another, that was all. There would always be somewhere to sleep
+and a bite to eat. The neighborhood seemed decent enough to him, except
+for a gang of drunkards that ought to be cleaned out of the gutters.
+
+Coupeau was not a bad sort of fellow. He sometimes had really sensible
+things to say. He was something of a dandy with his Parisian working
+man's gift for banter, a regular gift of gab, and besides, he was
+attractive.
+
+They had ended by rendering each other all sorts of services at the
+Hotel Boncoeur. Coupeau fetched her milk, ran her errands, carried her
+bundles of clothes; often of an evening, as he got home first from work,
+he took the children for a walk on the exterior Boulevard. Gervaise, in
+return for his polite attentions, would go up into the narrow room at
+the top of the house where he slept, and see to his clothes, sewing
+buttons on his blue linen trousers, and mending his linen jackets. A
+great familiarity existed between them. She was never bored when he
+was around. The gay songs he sang amused her, and so did his continuous
+banter of jokes and jibes characteristic of the Paris streets, this
+being still new to her.
+
+On Coupeau's side, this continual familiarity inflamed him more and
+more until it began to seriously bother him. He began to feel tense and
+uneasy. He continued with his foolish talk, never failing to ask her,
+"When will it be?" She understood what he meant and teased him. He would
+then come to visit her carrying his bedroom slippers, as if he were
+moving in. She joked about it and continued calmly without blushing at
+the allusions with which he was always surrounding her. She stood for
+anything from him as long as he didn't get rough. She only got angry
+once when he pulled a strand of her hair while trying to force a kiss
+from her.
+
+Towards the end of June, Coupeau lost his liveliness. He became most
+peculiar. Gervaise, feeling uneasy at some of his glances, barricaded
+herself in at night. Then, after having sulked ever since the Sunday, he
+suddenly came on the Tuesday night about eleven o'clock and knocked at
+her room. She would not open to him; but his voice was so gentle and so
+trembling that she ended by removing the chest of drawers she had pushed
+against the door. When he entered, she thought he was ill; he looked so
+pale, his eyes were so red, and the veins on his face were all swollen.
+And he stood there, stuttering and shaking his head. No, no, he was not
+ill. He had been crying for two hours upstairs in his room; he wept like
+a child, biting his pillow so as not to be heard by the neighbors. For
+three nights past he had been unable to sleep. It could not go on like
+that.
+
+"Listen, Madame Gervaise," said he, with a swelling in his throat and on
+the point of bursting out crying again; "we must end this, mustn't we?
+We'll go and get married. It's what I want. I've quite made up my mind."
+
+Gervaise showed great surprise. She was very grave.
+
+"Oh! Monsieur Coupeau," murmured she, "whatever are you thinking of?
+You know I've never asked you for that. I didn't care about it--that was
+all. Oh, no, no! it's serious now; think of what you're saying, I beg of
+you."
+
+But he continued to shake his head with an air of unalterable
+resolution. He had already thought it all over. He had come down because
+he wanted to have a good night. She wasn't going to send him back to
+weep again he supposed! As soon as she said "yes," he would no longer
+bother her, and she could go quietly to bed. He only wanted to hear her
+say "yes." They could talk it over on the morrow.
+
+"But I certainly can't say 'yes' just like that," resumed Gervaise. "I
+don't want you to be able to accuse me later on of having incited you to
+do a foolish thing. You shouldn't be so insistent, Monsieur Coupeau. You
+can't really be sure that you're in love with me. If you didn't see
+me for a week, it might fade away. Sometimes men get married and then
+there's day after day, stretching out into an entire lifetime, and they
+get pretty well bored by it all. Sit down there; I'm willing to talk it
+over at once."
+
+Then until one in the morning, in the dark room and by the faint light
+of a smoky tallow candle which they forgot to snuff, they talked
+of their marriage, lowering their voices so as not to wake the two
+children, Claude and Etienne, who were sleeping, both heads on the same
+pillow. Gervaise kept pointing out the children to Coupeau, what a funny
+kind of dowry they were. She really shouldn't burden him with them.
+Besides, what would the neighbors say? She'd feel ashamed for him
+because everyone knew about the story of her life and her lover. They
+wouldn't think it decent if they saw them getting married barely two
+months later.
+
+Coupeau replied by shrugging his shoulders. He didn't care about the
+neighbors! He never bothered about their affairs. So, there was Lantier
+before him, well, so what? What's so bad about that? She hadn't been
+constantly bringing men upstairs, as some women did, even rich ladies!
+The children would grow up, they'd raise them right. Never had he known
+before such a woman, such sound character, so good-hearted. Anyway,
+she could have been anything, a streetwalker, ugly, lazy and
+good-for-nothing, with a whole gang of dirty kids, and so what? He
+wanted her.
+
+"Yes, I want you," he repeated, bringing his hand down on his knee with
+a continuos hammering. "You understand, I want you. There's nothing to
+be said to that, is there?"
+
+Little by little, Gervaise gave way. Her emotions began to take control
+when faced with his encompassing desire. Still, with her hands in her
+lap and her face suffused with a soft sweetness, she hesitantly offered
+objections. From outside, through the half-open window, a lovely June
+night breathed in puffs of sultry air, disturbing the candle with its
+long wick gleaming red like a glowing coal. In the deep silence of the
+sleeping neighborhood the only sound was the infantile weeping of a
+drunkard lying in the middle of the street. Far away, in the back room
+of some restaurant, a violin was playing a dance tune for some late
+party.
+
+Coupeau was silent. Then, knowing she had no more arguments, he smiled,
+took hold of her hands and pulled her toward him. She was in one of
+those moments of weakness she so greatly mistrusted, persuaded at last,
+too emotionally stirred to refuse anything or to hurt anyone's feelings.
+Coupeau didn't realize that she was giving way. He held her wrists so
+tightly as to almost crush them. Together they breathed a long sigh that
+to both of them meant a partial satisfaction of their desire.
+
+"You'll say 'yes,' won't you," asked he.
+
+"How you worry me!" she murmured. "You wish it? Well then, 'yes.' Ah!
+we're perhaps doing a very foolish thing."
+
+He jumped up, and, seizing her round the waist, kissed her roughly on
+the face, at random. Then, as this caress caused a noise, he became
+anxious, and went softly and looked at Claude and Etienne.
+
+"Hush, we must be careful," said he in a whisper, "and not wake the
+children. Good-bye till to-morrow."
+
+And he went back to his room. Gervaise, all in a tremble, remained
+seated on the edge of her bed, without thinking of undressing herself
+for nearly an hour. She was touched; she felt that Coupeau was very
+honorable; for at one moment she had really thought it was all over, and
+that he would forget her. The drunkard below, under the window, was now
+hoarsely uttering the plaintive cry of some lost animal. The violin in
+the distance had left off its saucy tune and was now silent.
+
+During the following days Coupeau sought to get Gervaise to call some
+evening on his sister in the Rue de la Goutte-d'Or; but the young woman,
+who was very timid, showed a great dread of this visit to the Lorilleux.
+She knew that Coupeau had a lingering fear of that household, even
+though he certainly wasn't dependent on his sister, who wasn't even the
+oldest of the family. Mamma Coupeau would certainly give her consent at
+once, as she never refused her only son anything. The thing was that the
+Lorilleuxs were supposed to be earning ten francs a day or more and that
+gave them a certain authority. Coupeau would never dare to get married
+unless his wife was acceptable to them.
+
+"I have spoken to them of you, they know our plans," explained he to
+Gervaise. "Come now! What a child you are! Let's call on them this
+evening. I've warned you, haven't I? You'll find my sister rather stiff.
+Lorilleux, too, isn't always very amiable. In reality they are greatly
+annoyed, because if I marry, I shall no longer take my meals with them,
+and it'll be an economy the less. But that doesn't matter, they won't
+turn you out. Do this for me, it's absolutely necessary."
+
+These words only frightened Gervaise the more. One Saturday evening,
+however, she gave in. Coupeau came for her at half-past eight. She had
+dressed herself in a black dress, a crape shawl with yellow palms, and a
+white cap trimmed with a little cheap lace. During the six weeks she had
+been working, she had saved the seven francs for the shawl, and the two
+and a half francs for the cap; the dress was an old one cleaned and made
+up afresh.
+
+"They're expecting you," said Coupeau to her, as they went round by the
+Rue des Poissonniers. "Oh! they're beginning to get used to the idea
+of my being married. They seem nice indeed, to-night. And you know if
+you've never seen gold chains made, it'll amuse you to watch them. They
+just happen to have a pressing order for Monday."
+
+"They've got gold in their room?" asked Gervaise.
+
+"I should think so; there's some on the walls, on the floor, in fact
+everywhere."
+
+They had passed the arched doorway and crossed the courtyard. The
+Lorilleuxs lived on the sixth floor, staircase B. Coupeau laughingly
+told her to hold the hand-rail tight and not to leave go of it. She
+looked up, and blinked her eyes, as she perceived the tall hollow
+tower of the staircase, lighted by three gas jets, one on every second
+landing; the last one, right up at the top looked like a star twinkling
+in a black sky, whilst the other two cast long flashes of light, of
+fantastic shapes, among the interminable windings of the stairs.
+
+"By Jove!" said the zinc-worker as he reached the first floor, smiling,
+"there's a strong smell of onion soup. Someone's having onion soup, I'm
+sure."
+
+Staircase B, with its gray, dirty steps and hand-rail, its scratched
+walls and chipped plaster, was full of strong kitchen odors. Long
+corridors, echoing with noise, led away from each landing. Doors,
+painted yellow, gaped open, smeared black around the latch from dirty
+hands. A sink on each landing gave forth a fetid humidity, adding its
+stench to the sharp flavor of the cooking of onions. From the basement,
+all the way to the sixth floor, you could hear dishes clattering,
+saucepans being rinsed, pots being scraped and scoured.
+
+On the first floor Gervaise saw a half-opened door with the word
+"Designer" written on it in large letters. Inside were two men sitting
+by a table, the dishes cleared away from its oilcloth cover, arguing
+furiously amid a cloud of pipe smoke. The second and third floors were
+quieter, and through cracks in the woodwork only such sounds filtered as
+the rhythm of a cradle rocking, the stifled crying of a child, a woman's
+voice sounding like the dull murmur of running water with no words
+distinct. Gervaise read the various signs on the doors giving the names
+of the occupants: "Madame Gaudron, wool-carder" and "Monsieur Madinier,
+cardboard boxes." There was a fight in progress on the fourth floor: a
+stomping of feet that shook the floor, furniture banged around, a racket
+of curses and blows; but this did not bother the neighbors opposite, who
+were playing cards with their door opened wide to admit more air.
+
+When Gervaise reached the fifth floor, she had to stop to take a breath;
+she was not used to going up so high; that wall for ever turning, the
+glimpses she had of the lodgings following each other, made her head
+ache. Anyway, there was a family almost blocking the landing: the father
+washing the dishes over a small earthenware stove near the sink and the
+mother sitting with her back to the stair-rail and cleaning the baby
+before putting it to bed.
+
+Coupeau kept urging Gervaise along, and they finally reached the sixth
+floor. He encouraged her with a smile; they had arrived! She had been
+hearing a voice all the way up from the bottom and she was gazing
+upward, wondering where it could be coming from, a voice so clear and
+piercing that it had dominated all the other sounds. It came from a
+little old woman in an attic room who sang while putting dresses on
+cheap dolls. When a tall girl came by with a pail of water and entered
+a nearby apartment, Gervaise saw a tumbled bed on which a man was
+sprawled, his eyes fixed on the ceiling. As the door closed behind her,
+Gervaise saw the hand-written card: "Mademoiselle Clemence, ironing."
+
+Now that she had finally made it to the top, her legs weary and her
+breath short, Gervaise leaned over the railing to look down. Now it
+was the gaslight on the first floor which seemed a distant star at the
+bottom of a narrow well six stories deep. All the odors and all the
+murmurings of the immense variety of life within the tenement came up
+to her in one stifling breath that flushed her face as she hazarded a
+worried glance down into the gulf below.
+
+"We're not there yet," said Coupeau. "Oh! It's quite a journey!"
+
+He had gone down a long corridor on the left. He turned twice, the first
+time also to the left, the second time to the right. The corridor still
+continued branching off, narrowing between walls full of crevices,
+with plaster peeling off, and lighted at distant intervals by a slender
+gas-jet; and the doors all alike, succeeded each other the same as
+the doors of a prison or a convent, and nearly all open, continued to
+display homes of misery and work, which the hot June evening filled
+with a reddish mist. At length they reached a small passage in complete
+darkness.
+
+"We're here," resumed the zinc-worker. "Be careful, keep to the wall;
+there are three steps."
+
+And Gervaise carefully took another ten steps in the obscurity. She
+stumbled and then counted the three steps. But at the end of the passage
+Coupeau had opened a door, without knocking. A brilliant light spread
+over the tiled floor. They entered.
+
+It was a narrow apartment, and seemed as if it were the continuation of
+the corridor. A faded woolen curtain, raised up just then by a string,
+divided the place in two. The first part contained a bedstead pushed
+beneath an angle of the attic ceiling, a cast-iron stove still warm
+from the cooking of the dinner, two chairs, a table and a wardrobe, the
+cornice of which had had to be sawn off to make it fit in between the
+door and the bedstead. The second part was fitted up as a work-shop; at
+the end, a narrow forge with its bellows; to the right, a vise fixed to
+the wall beneath some shelves on which pieces of old iron lay scattered;
+to the left near the window, a small workman's bench, encumbered with
+greasy and very dirty pliers, shears and microscopical saws, all very
+dirty and grimy.
+
+"It's us!" cried Coupeau advancing as far as the woolen curtain.
+
+But no one answered at first. Gervaise, deeply affected, moved
+especially by the thought that she was about to enter a place full of
+gold, stood behind the zinc-worker, stammering and venturing upon nods
+of her head by way of bowing. The brilliant light, a lamp burning on
+the bench, a brazier full of coals flaring in the forge, increased
+her confusion still more. She ended however, by distinguishing Madame
+Lorilleux--little, red-haired and tolerably strong, pulling with all
+the strength of her short arms, and with the assistance of a big pair of
+pincers, a thread of black metal which she passed through the holes of
+a draw-plate fixed to the vise. Seated in front of the bench, Lorilleux,
+quite as small of stature, but more slender in the shoulders, worked
+with the tips of his pliers, with the vivacity of a monkey, at a labor
+so minute, that it was impossible to follow it between his scraggy
+fingers. It was the husband who first raised his head--a head with
+scanty locks, the face of the yellow tinge of old wax, long, and with an
+ailing expression.
+
+"Ah! it's you; well, well!" murmured he. "We're in a hurry you know.
+Don't come into the work-room, you'd be in our way. Stay in the
+bedroom."
+
+And he resumed his minute task, his face again in the reflection of a
+glass globe full of green-colored water, through which the lamp shed a
+circle of bright light over his work.
+
+"Take the chairs!" called out Madame Lorilleux in her turn. "It's that
+lady, isn't it? Very well, very well!"
+
+She had rolled the wire and she carried it to the forge, and then,
+reviving the fire of the brazier with a large wooden fan, she proceeded
+to temper the wire before passing it through the last holes of the
+draw-plate.
+
+Coupeau moved the chairs forward and seated Gervaise by the curtain. The
+room was so narrow that he could not sit beside her, so he sat behind
+her, leaning over her shoulder to explain the work in progress. Gervaise
+was intimidated by this strange reception and felt uneasy. She had a
+buzzing in her ears and couldn't hear clearly. She thought the wife
+looked older than her thirty years and not very neat with her hair in a
+pigtail dangling down the back of her loosely worn wrapper. The husband,
+who was only a year older, appeared already an old man with mean, thin
+lips, as he sat there working in his shirt sleeves with his bare feet
+thrust into down at the heel slippers. Gervaise was dismayed by the
+smallness of the shop, the grimy walls, the rustiness of the tools, and
+the black soot spread all over what looked like the odds and ends of a
+scrap-iron peddler's wares.
+
+"And the gold?" asked Gervaise in a low voice.
+
+Her anxious glances searched the corners and sought amongst all that
+filth for the resplendence she had dreamt of. But Coupeau burst out
+laughing.
+
+"Gold?" said he; "why there's some; there's some more, and there's some
+at your feet!"
+
+He pointed successively to the fine wire at which his sister was
+working, and to another roll of wire, similar to the ordinary iron
+wire, hanging against the wall close to the vise; then going down on all
+fours, he picked up, beneath the wooden screen which covered the tiled
+floor of the work-room, a piece of waste, a tiny fragment resembling the
+point of a rusty needle. But Gervaise protested; that couldn't be gold,
+that blackish piece of metal as ugly as iron! He had to bite into
+the piece and show her the gleaming notch made by his teeth. Then
+he continued his explanations: the employers provided the gold wire,
+already alloyed; the craftsmen first pulled it through the draw-plate to
+obtain the correct size, being careful to anneal it five or six times to
+keep it from breaking. It required a steady, strong hand, and plenty of
+practice. His sister would not let her husband touch the wire-drawing
+since he was subject to coughing spells. She had strong arms for it; he
+had seen her draw gold to the fineness of a hair.
+
+Lorilleux, seized with a fit of coughing, almost doubled up on his
+stool. In the midst of the paroxysm, he spoke, and said in a choking
+voice, still without looking at Gervaise, as though he was merely
+mentioning the thing to himself:
+
+"I'm making the herring-bone chain."
+
+Coupeau urged Gervaise to get up. She might draw nearer and see. The
+chainmaker consented with a grunt. He wound the wire prepared by his
+wife round a mandrel, a very thin steel rod. Then he sawed gently,
+cutting the wire the whole length of the mandrel, each turn forming
+a link, which he soldered. The links were laid on a large piece of
+charcoal. He wetted them with a drop of borax, taken from the bottom of
+a broken glass beside him; and he made them red-hot at the lamp beneath
+the horizontal flame produced by the blow-pipe. Then, when he had
+soldered about a hundred links he returned once more to his minute work,
+propping his hands against the edge of the _cheville_, a small piece of
+board which the friction of his hands had polished. He bent each link
+almost double with the pliers, squeezed one end close, inserted it in
+the last link already in place and then, with the aid of a point opened
+out again the end he had squeezed; and he did this with a continuous
+regularity, the links joining each other so rapidly that the chain
+gradually grew beneath Gervaise's gaze, without her being able to
+follow, or well understand how it was done.
+
+"That's the herring-bone chain," said Coupeau. "There's also the
+long link, the cable, the plain ring, and the spiral. But that's the
+herring-bone. Lorilleux only makes the herring-bone chain."
+
+The latter chuckled with satisfaction. He exclaimed, as he continued
+squeezing the links, invisible between his black finger-nails.
+
+"Listen to me, Young Cassis! I was making a calculation this morning.
+I commenced work when I was twelve years old, you know. Well! Can you
+guess how long a herring-bone chain I must have made up till to-day?"
+
+He raised his pale face, and blinked his red eye-lids.
+
+"Twenty-six thousand feet, do you hear? Two leagues! That's something!
+A herring-bone chain two leagues long! It's enough to twist round the
+necks of all the women of the neighborhood. And you know, it's still
+increasing. I hope to make it long enough to reach from Paris to
+Versailles."
+
+Gervaise had returned to her seat, disenchanted and thinking everything
+very ugly. She smiled to be polite to the Lorilleuxs. The complete
+silence about her marriage bothered her. It was the sole reason for her
+having come. The Lorilleuxs were treating her as some stranger brought
+in by Coupeau. When a conversation finally did get started, it concerned
+the building's tenants. Madame Lorilleux asked her husband if he had
+heard the people on the fourth floor having a fight. They fought every
+day. The husband usually came home drunk and the wife had her faults
+too, yelling in the filthiest language. Then they spoke of the designer
+on the first floor, an uppity show-off with a mound of debts, always
+smoking, always arguing loudly with his friends. Monsieur Madinier's
+cardboard business was barely surviving. He had let two girl workers go
+yesterday. The business ate up all his money, leaving his children to
+run around in rags. And that Madame Gaudron was pregnant again; this was
+almost indecent at her age. The landlord was going to evict the Coquets
+on the fifth floor. They owed nine months' rent, and besides, they
+insisted on lighting their stove out on the landing. Last Saturday the
+old lady on the sixth floor, Mademoiselle Remanjou, had arrived just in
+time to save the Linguerlot child from being badly burned. Mademoiselle
+Clemence, one who took in ironing, well, she lived life as she pleased.
+She was so kind to animals though and had such a good heart that you
+couldn't say anything against her. It was a pity, a fine girl like her,
+the company she kept. She'd be walking the streets before long.
+
+"Look, here's one," said Lorilleux to his wife, giving her the piece of
+chain he had been working on since his lunch. "You can trim it." And he
+added, with the persistence of a man who does not easily relinquish
+a joke: "Another four feet and a half. That brings me nearer to
+Versailles."
+
+Madame Lorilleux, after tempering it again, trimmed it by passing it
+through the regulating draw-plate. Then she put it in a little copper
+saucepan with a long handle, full of lye-water, and placed it over the
+fire of the forge. Gervaise, again pushed forward by Coupeau, had to
+follow this last operation. When the chain was thoroughly cleansed, it
+appeared a dull red color. It was finished, and ready to be delivered.
+
+"They're always delivered like that, in their rough state," the
+zinc-worker explained. "The polishers rub them afterwards with cloths."
+
+Gervaise felt her courage failing her. The heat, more and more intense,
+was suffocating her. They kept the door shut, because Lorilleux caught
+cold from the least draught. Then as they still did not speak of the
+marriage, she wanted to go away and gently pulled Coupeau's jacket. He
+understood. Besides, he also was beginning to feel ill at ease and vexed
+at their affectation of silence.
+
+"Well, we're off," said he. "We mustn't keep you from your work."
+
+He moved about for a moment, waiting, hoping for a word or some allusion
+or other. At length he decided to broach the subject himself.
+
+"I say, Lorilleux, we're counting on you to be my wife's witness."
+
+The chainmaker pretended, with a chuckle, to be greatly surprised;
+whilst his wife, leaving her draw-plates, placed herself in the middle
+of the work-room.
+
+"So it's serious then?" murmured he. "That confounded Young Cassis, one
+never knows whether he is joking or not."
+
+"Ah! yes, madame's the person involved," said the wife in her turn, as
+she stared rudely at Gervaise. "_Mon Dieu!_ We've no advice to give
+you, we haven't. It's a funny idea to go and get married, all the same.
+Anyhow, it's your own wish. When it doesn't succeed, one's only got
+oneself to blame, that's all. And it doesn't often succeed, not often,
+not often."
+
+She uttered these last words slower and slower, and shaking her head,
+she looked from the young woman's face to her hands, and then to her
+feet as though she had wished to undress her and see the very pores of
+her skin. She must have found her better than she expected.
+
+"My brother is perfectly free," she continued more stiffly. "No doubt
+the family might have wished--one always makes projects. But things take
+such funny turns. For myself, I don't want to have any unpleasantness.
+Had he brought us the lowest of the low, I should merely have said:
+'Marry her and go to blazes!' He was not badly off though, here with
+us. He's fat enough; one can very well see he didn't fast much; and he
+always found his soup hot right on time. I say, Lorilleux, don't you
+think madame's like Therese--you know who I mean, that woman who used to
+live opposite, and who died of consumption?"
+
+"Yes, there's a certain resemblance," replied the chainmaker.
+
+"And you've got two children, madame? Now, I must admit I said to my
+brother: 'I can't understand how you can want to marry a woman who's got
+two children.' You mustn't be offended if I consult his interests; its
+only natural. You don't look strong either. Don't you think, Lorilleux,
+that madame doesn't look very strong?"
+
+"No, no, she's not strong."
+
+They did not mention her leg; but Gervaise understood by their side
+glances, and the curling of their lips, that they were alluding to it.
+She stood before them, wrapped in her thin shawl with the yellow palms,
+replying in monosyllables, as though in the presence of her judges.
+Coupeau, seeing she was suffering, ended by exclaiming:
+
+"All that's nothing to do with it. What you are talking about isn't
+important. The wedding will take place on Saturday, July 29. I
+calculated by the almanac. Is it settled? Does it suit you?"
+
+"Oh, it's all the same to us," said his sister. "There was no necessity
+to consult us. I shan't prevent Lorilleux being witness. I only want
+peace and quiet."
+
+Gervaise, hanging her head, not knowing what to do with herself had put
+the toe of her boot through one of the openings in the wooden screen
+which covered the tiled floor of the work-room; then afraid of having
+disturbed something when she had withdrawn it, she stooped down and felt
+about with her hand. Lorilleux hastily brought the lamp, and he examined
+her fingers suspiciously.
+
+"You must be careful," said he, "the tiny bits of gold stick to the
+shoes, and get carried away without one knowing it."
+
+It was all to do with business. The employers didn't allow a single
+speck for waste. He showed her the rabbit's foot he used to brush off
+any flecks of gold left on the _cheville_ and the leather he kept on
+his lap to catch any gold that fell. Twice weekly the shop was swept out
+carefully, the sweepings collected and burned and the ashes sifted. This
+recovered up to twenty-five or thirty francs' worth of gold a month.
+
+Madame Lorilleux could not take her eyes from Gervaise's shoes.
+
+"There's no reason to get angry," murmured she with an amiable smile.
+"But, perhaps madame would not mind looking at the soles of her shoes."
+
+And Gervaise, turning very red, sat down again, and holding up her feet
+showed that there was nothing clinging to them. Coupeau had opened the
+door, exclaiming: "Good-night!" in an abrupt tone of voice. He called to
+her from the corridor. Then she in her turn went off, after stammering
+a few polite words: she hoped to see them again, and that they would
+all agree well together. Both of the Lorilleux had already gone back
+to their work at the far end of their dark hole of a work-room. Madame
+Lorilleux, her skin reflecting the red glow from the bed of coals, was
+drawing on another wire, each effort swelling her neck and making the
+strained muscles stand out like taut cords. Her husband, hunched over
+beneath the greenish gleam of the globe was starting another length
+of chain, twisting each link with his pliers, pressing it on one side,
+inserting it into the next link above, opening it again with the pointed
+tool, continuously, mechanically, not wasting a motion, even to wipe the
+sweat from his face.
+
+When Gervaise emerged from the corridor on to the landing, she could not
+help saying, with tears in her eyes:
+
+"That doesn't promise much happiness."
+
+Coupeau shook his head furiously. He would get even with Lorilleux for
+that evening. Had anyone ever seen such a miserly fellow? To think that
+they were going to walk off with two or three grains of his gold dust!
+All the fuss they made was from pure avarice. His sister thought perhaps
+that he would never marry, so as to enable her to economize four sous on
+her dinner every day. However, it would take place all the same on July
+29. He did not care a hang for them!
+
+Nevertheless, Gervaise still felt depressed. Tormented by a foolish
+fearfulness, she peered anxiously into every dark shadow along the
+stair-rail as she descended. It was dark and deserted at this hour, lit
+only by a single gas jet on the second floor. In the shadowy depths of
+the dark pit, it gave a spot of brightness, even with its flame turned
+so low. It was now silent behind the closed doors; the weary laborers
+had gone to sleep after eating. However, there was a soft laugh from
+Mademoiselle Clemence's room and a ray of light shone through the
+keyhole of Mademoiselle Remanjou's door. She was still busy cutting
+out dresses for the dolls. Downstairs at Madame Gaudron's, a child was
+crying. The sinks on the landings smelled more offensive than ever in
+the midst of the darkness and stillness.
+
+In the courtyard, Gervaise turned back for a last look at the tenement
+as Coupeau called out to the concierge. The building seemed to have
+grown larger under the moonless sky. The drip-drip of water from the
+faucet sounded loud in the quiet. Gervaise felt that the building was
+threatening to suffocate her and a chill went through her body. It was a
+childish fear and she smiled at it a moment later.
+
+"Watch your step," warned Coupeau.
+
+To get to the entrance, Gervaise had to jump over a wide puddle that had
+drained from the dye shop. The puddle was blue now, the deep blue of
+a summer sky. The reflections from the night light of the concierge
+sparkled in it like stars.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER III.
+
+Gervaise did not want to have a wedding-party! What was the use of
+spending money? Besides, she still felt somewhat ashamed; it seemed
+to her quite unnecessary to parade the marriage before the whole
+neighborhood. But Coupeau cried out at that. One could not be married
+without having a feed. He did not care a button for the people of the
+neighborhood! Nothing elaborate, just a short walk and a rabbit ragout
+in the first eating-house they fancied. No music with dessert. Just a
+glass or two and then back home.
+
+The zinc-worker, chaffing and joking, at length got the young woman to
+consent by promising her that there should be no larks. He would keep
+his eye on the glasses, to prevent sunstrokes. Then he organized a
+sort of picnic at five francs a head, at the "Silver Windmill," kept
+by Auguste, on the Boulevard de la Chapelle. It was a small cafe with
+moderate charges and had a dancing place in the rear, beneath the three
+acacias in the courtyard. They would be very comfortable on the first
+floor. During the next ten days, he got hold of guests in the house
+where his sister lived in the Rue de la Goutte-d'Or--Monsieur Madinier,
+Mademoiselle Remanjou, Madame Gaudron and her husband. He even ended
+by getting Gervaise to consent to the presence of two of his
+comrades--Bibi-the-Smoker and My-Boots. No doubt My-Boots was a boozer;
+but then he had such a fantastic appetite that he was always asked to
+join those sort of gatherings, just for the sight of the caterer's
+mug when he beheld that bottomless pit swallowing his twelve pounds
+of bread. The young woman on her side, promised to bring her employer
+Madame Fauconnier and the Boches, some very agreeable people. On
+counting, they found there would be fifteen to sit down to table,
+which was quite enough. When there are too many, they always wind up by
+quarrelling.
+
+Coupeau however, had no money. Without wishing to show off, he intended
+to behave handsomely. He borrowed fifty francs off his employer. Out of
+that, he first of all purchased the wedding-ring--a twelve franc gold
+wedding-ring, which Lorilleux procured for him at the wholesale price of
+nine francs. He then bought himself a frock coat, a pair of trousers
+and a waistcoat at a tailor's in the Rue Myrrha, to whom he gave merely
+twenty-five francs on account; his patent leather shoes and his hat
+were still good enough. When he had put by the ten francs for his
+and Gervaise's share of the feast--the two children not being charged
+for--he had exactly six francs left--the price of a low mass at the
+altar of the poor. He had no liking for those black crows, the priests.
+It would gripe him to pay his last six francs to keep their whistles
+wet; however, a marriage without a mass wasn't a real marriage at all.
+
+Going to the church himself, he bargained for a whole hour with a little
+old priest in a dirty cassock who was as sharp at dealing as a push-cart
+peddler. Coupeau felt like boxing his ears. For a joke, he asked the
+priest if he didn't have a second-hand mass that would do for a modest
+young couple. The priest, mumbling that God would take small pleasure
+in blessing their union, finally let him have his mass for five francs.
+Well after all, that meant twenty sous saved.
+
+Gervaise also wanted to look decent. As soon as the marriage was
+settled, she made her arrangements, worked extra time in the evenings,
+and managed to put thirty francs on one side. She had a great longing
+for a little silk mantle marked thirteen francs in the Rue du Faubourg
+Poissonniere. She treated herself to it, and then bought for ten francs
+of the husband of a washerwoman who had died in Madame Fauconnier's
+house a blue woolen dress, which she altered to fit herself. With the
+seven francs remaining she procured a pair of cotton gloves, a rose
+for her cap, and some shoes for Claude, her eldest boy. Fortunately
+the youngsters' blouses were passable. She spent four nights cleaning
+everything, and mending the smallest holes in her stockings and chemise.
+
+On Friday night, the eve of the great day, Gervaise and Coupeau had
+still a good deal of running about to do up till eleven o'clock, after
+returning home from work. Then before separating for the night they
+spent an hour together in the young woman's room, happy at being about
+to be released from their awkward position. In spite of the fact that
+they had originally resolved not to put themselves out to impress the
+neighbors, they had ended by taking it seriously and working themselves
+till they were weary. By the time they said "Good-night," they were
+almost asleep on their feet. They breathed a great sigh of relief now
+that everything was ready.
+
+Coupeau's witnesses were to be Monsieur Madinier and Bibi-the-Smoker.
+They were counting on Lorilleux and Boche for Gervaise's witnesses. They
+were to go quietly to the mayor's office and the church, just the six
+of them, without a whole procession of people trailing behind them. The
+bridegroom's two sisters had even declared that they would stay home,
+their presence not being necessary. Coupeau's mother, however, had
+sobbed and wailed, threatening to go ahead of them and hide herself in
+some corner of the church, until they had promised to take her along.
+The meeting of the guests was set for one o'clock at the Silver
+Windmill. From there, they would go to Saint-Denis, going out by
+railroad and returning on foot along the highway in order to work up an
+appetite. The party promised to be quite all right.
+
+Saturday morning, while getting dressed, Coupeau felt a qualm of
+uneasiness in view of the single franc in his pocket. He began to think
+that it was a matter of ordinary courtesy to offer a glass of wine and
+a slice of ham to the witnesses while awaiting dinner. Also, there might
+be unforeseen expenses. So, after taking Claude and Etienne to stay with
+Madame Boche, who was to bring them to the dinner later that afternoon,
+he hurried over to the Rue de la Goutte-d'Or to borrow ten francs from
+Lorilleux. Having to do that griped him immensely as he could guess the
+attitude his brother-in-law would take. The latter did grumble a
+bit, but ended by lending him two five-franc pieces. However, Coupeau
+overheard his sister muttering under her breath, "This is a fine
+beginning."
+
+The ceremony at the mayor's was to take place at half-past ten. It was
+beautiful weather--a magnificent sun seemed to roast the streets. So as
+not to be stared at the bride and bridegroom, the old mother, and the
+four witnesses separated into two bands. Gervaise walked in front with
+Lorilleux, who gave her his arm; whilst Monsieur Madinier followed with
+mother Coupeau. Then, twenty steps behind on the opposite side of the
+way, came Coupeau, Boche, and Bibi-the-Smoker. These three were in black
+frock coats, walking erect and swinging their arms. Boche's trousers
+were bright yellow. Bibi-the-Smoker didn't have a waistcoat so he was
+buttoned up to the neck with only a bit of his cravat showing. The only
+one in a full dress suit was Monsieur Madinier and passers-by gazed at
+this well-dressed gentleman escorting the huge bulk of mother Coupeau in
+her green shawl and black bonnet with red ribbons.
+
+Gervaise looked very gay and sweet in her dress of vivid blue and
+with her new silk mantle fitted tightly to her shoulders. She listened
+politely to the sneering remarks of Lorilleux, who seemed buried in
+the depths of the immense overcoat he was wearing. From time to time,
+Gervaise would turn her head a little to smile brightly at Coupeau, who
+was rather uncomfortable under the hot sun in his new clothes.
+
+Though they walked very slowly, they arrived at the mayor's quite half
+an hour too soon. And as the mayor was late, their turn was not reached
+till close upon eleven o'clock. They sat down on some chairs and waited
+in a corner of the apartment, looking by turns at the high ceiling and
+bare walls, talking low, and over-politely pushing back their chairs
+each time that one of the attendants passed. Yet among themselves they
+called the mayor a sluggard, saying he must be visiting his blonde to
+get a massage for his gout, or that maybe he'd swallowed his official
+sash.
+
+However, when the mayor did put in his appearance, they rose
+respectfully in his honor. They were asked to sit down again and they
+had to wait through three other marriages. The hall was crowded with the
+three bourgeois wedding parties: brides all in white, little girls
+with carefully curled hair, bridesmaids wearing wide sashes, an endless
+procession of ladies and gentlemen dressed in their best and looking
+very stylish.
+
+When at length they were called, they almost missed being married
+altogether, Bibi-the-Smoker having disappeared. Boche discovered him
+outside smoking his pipe. Well! They were a nice lot inside there to
+humbug people about like that, just because one hadn't yellow kid gloves
+to shove under their noses! And the various formalities--the reading
+of the Code, the different questions to be put, the signing of all the
+documents--were all got through so rapidly that they looked at each
+other with an idea that they had been robbed of a good half of the
+ceremony. Gervaise, dizzy, her heart full, pressed her handkerchief to
+her lips. Mother Coupeau wept bitterly. All had signed the register,
+writing their names in big struggling letters with the exception of the
+bridegroom, who not being able to write, had put his cross. They each
+gave four sous for the poor. When an attendant handed Coupeau the
+marriage certificate, the latter, prompted by Gervaise who nudged his
+elbow, handed him another five sous.
+
+It was a fair walk from the mayor's office in the town hall to the
+church. The men stopped along the way to have a beer. Mother Coupeau and
+Gervaise took cassis with water. Then they had to trudge along the long
+street where the sun glared straight down without the relief of shade.
+
+When they arrived at the church they were hurried along and asked if
+they came so late in order to make a mockery of religion. A priest came
+forward, his face pale and resentful from having to delay his lunch. An
+altar boy in a soiled surplice ran before him.
+
+The mass went very fast, with the priest turning, bowing his head,
+spreading out his arms, making all the ritual gestures in haste while
+casting sidelong glances at the group. Gervaise and Coupeau, before the
+altar, were embarrassed, not knowing when they should kneel or rise
+or seat themselves, expecting some indication from the attendant. The
+witnesses, not knowing what was proper, remained standing during the
+ceremony. Mother Coupeau was weeping again and shedding her tears into
+the missal she had borrowed from a neighbor.
+
+Meanwhile, the noon chimes had sounded and the church began to fill with
+noise from the shuffling feet of sacristans and the clatter of chairs
+being put back in place. The high altar was apparently being prepared
+for some special ceremony.
+
+Thus, in the depths of this obscure chapel, amid the floating dust, the
+surly priest placed his withered hands on the bared heads of Gervaise
+and Coupeau, blessing their union amid a hubbub like that of moving day.
+The wedding party signed another registry, this time in the sacristy,
+and then found themselves out in the bright sunlight before the church
+doors where they stood for a moment, breathless and confused from having
+been carried along at such a break-neck speed.
+
+"Voila!" said Coupeau with an embarrassed laugh. "Well, it sure didn't
+take long. They shove it at you so; it's like being at the painless
+dentist's who doesn't give you time to cry out. Here you get a painless
+wedding!"
+
+"Yes, it's a quick job," Lorilleux smirked. "In five minutes you're tied
+together for the rest of your life. You poor Young Cassis, you've had
+it."
+
+The four witnesses whacked Coupeau on the shoulders as he arched his
+back against the friendly blows. Meanwhile Gervaise was hugging and
+kissing mother Coupeau, her eyes moist, a smile lighting her face. She
+replied reassuringly to the old woman's sobbing: "Don't worry, I'll do
+my best. I want so much to have a happy life. If it doesn't work out
+it won't be my fault. Anyhow, it's done now. It's up to us to get along
+together and do the best we can for each other."
+
+After that they went straight to the Silver Windmill. Coupeau had taken
+his wife's arm. They walked quickly, laughing as though carried away,
+quite two hundred steps ahead of the others, without noticing the houses
+or the passers-by, or the vehicles. The deafening noises of the faubourg
+sounded like bells in their ears. When they reached the wineshop,
+Coupeau at once ordered two bottles of wine, some bread and some slices
+of ham, to be served in the little glazed closet on the ground floor,
+without plates or table cloth, simply to have a snack. Then, noticing
+that Boche and Bibi-the-Smoker seemed to be very hungry, he had a third
+bottle brought, as well as a slab of brie cheese. Mother Coupeau was not
+hungry, being too choked up to be able to eat. Gervaise found herself
+very thirsty, and drank several large glasses of water with a small
+amount of wine added.
+
+"I'll settle for this," said Coupeau, going at once to the bar, where he
+paid four francs and five sous.
+
+It was now one o'clock and the other guests began to arrive. Madame
+Fauconnier, a fat woman, still good looking, first put in an appearance;
+she wore a chintz dress with a flowery pattern, a pink tie and a cap
+over-trimmed with flowers. Next came Mademoiselle Remanjou, looking very
+thin in the eternal black dress which she seemed to keep on even when
+she went to bed; and the two Gaudrons--the husband, like some heavy
+animal and almost bursting his brown jacket at the slightest movement,
+the wife, an enormous woman, whose figure indicated evident signs of an
+approaching maternity and whose stiff violet colored skirt still more
+increased her rotundity. Coupeau explained that they were not to
+wait for My-Boots; his comrade would join the party on the Route de
+Saint-Denis.
+
+"Well!" exclaimed Madame Lerat as she entered, "it'll pour in torrents
+soon! That'll be pleasant!"
+
+And she called everyone to the door of the wineshop to see the clouds
+as black as ink which were rising rapidly to the south of Paris. Madame
+Lerat, eldest of the Coupeaus, was a tall, gaunt woman who talked
+through her nose. She was unattractively dressed in a puce-colored robe
+that hung loosely on her and had such long dangling fringes that
+they made her look like a skinny poodle coming out of the water. She
+brandished her umbrella like a club. After greeting Gervaise, she said,
+"You've no idea. The heat in the street is like a slap on the face.
+You'd think someone was throwing fire at you."
+
+Everyone agreed that they knew the storm was coming. It was in the air.
+Monsieur Madinier said that he had seen it as they were coming out of
+the church. Lorilleux mentioned that his corns were aching and he hadn't
+been able to sleep since three in the morning. A storm was due. It had
+been much too hot for three days in a row.
+
+"Well, maybe it will just be a little mist," Coupeau said several times,
+standing at the door and anxiously studying the sky. "Now we have to
+wait only for my sister. We'll start as soon as she arrives."
+
+Madame Lorilleux was late. Madame Lerat had stopped by so they could
+come together, but found her only beginning to get dressed. The two
+sisters had argued. The widow whispered in her brother's ear, "I left
+her flat! She's in a dreadful mood. You'll see."
+
+And the wedding party had to wait another quarter of an hour, walking
+about the wineshop, elbowed and jostled in the midst of the men who
+entered to drink a glass of wine at the bar. Now and again Boche, or
+Madame Fauconnier, or Bibi-the-Smoker left the others and went to the
+edge of the pavement, looking up at the sky. The storm was not passing
+over at all; a darkness was coming on and puffs of wind, sweeping along
+the ground, raised little clouds of white dust. At the first clap of
+thunder, Mademoiselle Remanjou made the sign of the cross. All the
+glances were anxiously directed to the clock over the looking-glass; it
+was twenty minutes to two.
+
+"Here it goes!" cried Coupeau. "It's the angels who're weeping."
+
+A gush of rain swept the pavement, along which some women flew, holding
+down their skirts with both hands. And it was in the midst of this
+first shower that Madame Lorilleux at length arrived, furious and out of
+breath, and struggling on the threshold with her umbrella that would not
+close.
+
+"Did any one ever see such a thing?" she exclaimed. "It caught me just
+at the door. I felt inclined to go upstairs again and take my things
+off. I should have been wise had I done so. Ah! it's a pretty wedding! I
+said how it would be. I wanted to put it off till next Saturday; and it
+rains because they wouldn't listen to me! So much the better, so much
+the better! I wish the sky would burst!"
+
+Coupeau tried to pacify her without success. He wouldn't have to pay for
+her dress if it was spoilt! She had on a black silk dress in which she
+was nearly choking, the bodice, too tight fitting, was almost bursting
+the button-holes, and was cutting her across the shoulders; while the
+skirt only allowed her to take very short steps in walking. However, the
+ladies present were all staring at her, quite overcome by her costume.
+
+She appeared not to notice Gervaise, who was sitting beside mother
+Coupeau. She asked her husband for his handkerchief. Then she went into
+a corner and very carefully wiped off the raindrops that had fallen on
+her silk dress.
+
+The shower had abruptly ceased. The darkness increased, it was almost
+like night--a livid night rent at times by large flashes of lightning.
+Bibi-the-Smoker said laughingly that it would certainly rain priests.
+Then the storm burst forth with extreme violence. For half an hour the
+rain came down in bucketsful, and the thunder rumbled unceasingly.
+The men standing up before the door contemplated the grey veil of the
+downpour, the swollen gutters, the splashes of water caused by the rain
+beating into the puddles. The women, feeling frightened, had sat down
+again, holding their hands before their eyes. They no longer conversed,
+they were too upset. A jest Boche made about the thunder, saying that
+St. Peter was sneezing up there, failed to raise a smile. But, when
+the thunder-claps became less frequent and gradually died away in the
+distance, the wedding guests began to get impatient, enraged against
+the storm, cursing and shaking their fists at the clouds. A fine and
+interminable rain now poured down from the sky which had become an ashy
+grey.
+
+"It's past two o'clock," cried Madame Lorilleux. "We can't stop here for
+ever."
+
+Mademoiselle Remanjou, having suggested going into the country all
+the same, even though they went no farther than the moat of the
+fortifications, the others scouted the idea: the roads would be in
+a nice state, one would not even be able to sit down on the grass;
+besides, it did not seem to be all over yet, there might perhaps be
+another downpour. Coupeau, who had been watching a workman, completely
+soaked, yet quietly walking along in the rain, murmured:
+
+"If that animal My-Boots is waiting for us on the Route de Saint-Denis,
+he won't catch a sunstroke."
+
+That made some of them laugh; but the general ill-humor increased.
+It was becoming ludicrous. They must decide on something unless they
+planned to sit there, staring at each other, until time for dinner. So
+for the next quarter of an hour, while the persistent rain continued,
+they tried to think of what to do. Bibi-the-Smoker suggested that they
+play cards. Boche slyly suggesting a most amusing game, the game of true
+confessions. Madame Gaudron thought of going to eat onion tarts on the
+Chaussee Clignancourt. Madame Lerat wanted to hear some stories. Gaudron
+said he wasn't a bit put out and thought they were quite well off where
+they were, out of the downpour. He suggested sitting down to dinner
+immediately.
+
+There was a discussion after each proposal. Some said that this would
+put everybody to sleep or that that would make people think they were
+stupid. Lorilleux had to get his word in. He finally suggested a walk
+along the outer Boulevards to Pere Lachaise cemetery. They could visit
+the tomb of Heloise and Abelard. Madame Lorilleux exploded, no longer
+able to control herself. She was leaving, she was. Were they trying to
+make fun of her? She got all dressed up and came out in the rain. And
+for what? To be wasting time in a wineshop. No, she had had enough
+of this wedding party. She'd rather be in her own home. Coupeau and
+Lorilleux had to get between her and the door to keep her from leaving.
+She kept telling them, "Get out of my way! I am leaving, I tell you!"
+
+Lorilleux finally succeeded in calming her down. Coupeau went over to
+Gervaise, who had been sitting quietly in a corner with mother Coupeau
+and Madame Fauconnier.
+
+"You haven't suggested anything," he said to her.
+
+"Oh! Whatever they want," she replied, laughing. "I don't mind. We can
+go out or stay here."
+
+She seemed aglow with contentment. She had spoken to each guest as they
+arrived. She spoke sensibly, in her soft voice, not getting into any
+disagreements. During the downpour, she had sat with her eyes wide open,
+watching the lightning as though she could see the future in the sudden
+flashes.
+
+Monsieur Madinier had up to this time not proposed anything. He was
+leaning against the bar, with the tails of his dress coat thrust apart,
+while he fully maintained the important air of an employer. He kept on
+expectorating, and rolled his big eyes about.
+
+"_Mon Dieu_!" said he, "we might go to the Museum."
+
+And he stroked his chin, as he blinkingly consulted the other members of
+the party.
+
+"There are antiquities, pictures, paintings, a whole heap of things. It
+is very instructive. Perhaps you have never been there. Oh! it is quite
+worth seeing at least once in a while."
+
+They looked at each other interrogatively. No, Gervaise had never been;
+Madame Fauconnier neither, nor Boche, nor the others. Coupeau thought he
+had been one Sunday, but he was not sure. They hesitated, however, when
+Madame Lorilleux, greatly impressed by Monsieur Madinier's importance,
+thought the suggestion a very worthy and respectable one. As they
+were wasting the day, and were all dressed up, they might as well go
+somewhere for their own instruction. Everyone approved. Then, as it
+still rained a little, they borrowed some umbrellas from the proprietor
+of the wineshop, old blue, green, and brown umbrellas, forgotten by
+different customers, and started off to the Museum.
+
+The wedding party turned to the right, and descended into Paris along
+the Faubourg Saint-Denis. Coupeau and Gervaise again took the lead,
+almost running and keeping a good distance in front of the others.
+Monsieur Madinier now gave his arm to Madame Lorilleux, mother Coupeau
+having remained behind in the wineshop on account of her old legs.
+Then came Lorilleux and Madame Lerat, Boche and Madame Fauconnier,
+Bibi-the-Smoker and Mademoiselle Remanjou, and finally the two Gaudrons.
+They were twelve and made a pretty long procession on the pavement.
+
+"I swear to you, we had nothing to do with it," Madame Lorilleux
+explained to Monsieur Madinier. "We don't even know how they met, or,
+we know only too well, but that's not for us to discuss. My husband even
+had to buy the wedding ring. We were scarcely out of bed this morning
+when he had to lend them ten francs. And, not a member of her family at
+her wedding, what kind of bride is that? She says she has a sister in
+Paris who works for a pork butcher. Why didn't she invite her?" She
+stopped to point at Gervaise, who was limping awkwardly because of the
+slope of the pavement. "Just look at her. Clump-clump."
+
+"Clump-clump" ran through the wedding procession. Lorilleux laughed
+under his breath, and said they ought to call her that, but Madame
+Fauconnier stood up for Gervaise. They shouldn't make fun of her; she
+was neat as a pin and did a good job when there was washing to be done.
+
+When the wedding procession came out of the Faubourg Saint-Denis, they
+had to cross the boulevard. The street had been transformed into a
+morass of sticky mud by the storm. It had started to pour again and they
+had opened the assorted umbrellas. The women picked their way carefully
+through the mud, holding their skirts high as the men held the
+sorry-looking umbrellas over their heads. The procession stretched out
+the width of the street.
+
+"It's a masquerade!" yelled two street urchins.
+
+People turned to stare. These couples parading across the boulevard
+added a splash of vivid color against the damp background. It was a
+parade of a strange medley of styles showing fancy used clothing such as
+constitute the luxury of the poor. The gentlemen's hats caused the most
+merriment, old hats preserved for years in dark and dusty cupboards, in
+a variety of comical forms: tall ones, flattened ones, sharply peaked
+ones, hats with extraordinary brims, curled back or flat, too narrow
+or too wide. Then at the very end, Madame Gaudron came along with
+her bright dress over her bulging belly and caused the smiles of the
+audience to grow even wider. The procession made no effort to hasten
+its progress. They were, in fact, rather pleased to attract so much
+attention and admiration.
+
+"Look! Here comes the bride!" one of the urchins shouted, pointing
+to Madame Gaudron. "Oh! Isn't it too bad! She must have swallowed
+something!"
+
+The entire wedding procession burst into laughter. Bibi-the-Smoker
+turned around and laughed. Madame Gaudron laughed the most of all. She
+wasn't ashamed as she thought more than one of the women watching had
+looked at her with envy.
+
+They turned into the Rue de Clery. Then they took the Rue du Mail. On
+reaching the Place des Victoires, there was a halt. The bride's left
+shoe lace had come undone, and as she tied it up again at the foot of
+the statue of Louis XIV., the couples pressed behind her waiting, and
+joking about the bit of calf of her leg that she displayed. At length,
+after passing down the Rue Croix-des-Petits-Champs, they reached the
+Louvre.
+
+Monsieur Madinier politely asked to be their cicerone. It was a big
+place, and they might lose themselves; besides, he knew the best parts,
+because he had often come there with an artist, a very intelligent
+fellow from whom a large dealer bought designs to put on his cardboard
+boxes. Down below, when the wedding party entered the Assyrian Museum,
+a slight shiver passed through it. The deuce! It was not at all warm
+there; the hall would have made a capital cellar. And the couples slowly
+advanced, their chins raised, their eyes blinking, between the gigantic
+stone figures, the black marble gods, dumb in their hieratic rigidity,
+and the monstrous beasts, half cats and half women, with death-like
+faces, attenuated noses, and swollen lips. They thought all these things
+very ugly. The stone carvings of the present day were a great deal
+better. An inscription in Phoenician characters amazed them. No one
+could possibly have ever read that scrawl. But Monsieur Madinier,
+already up on the first landing with Madame Lorilleux, called to them,
+shouting beneath the vaulted ceiling:
+
+"Come along! They're nothing, all those things! The things to see are on
+the first floor!"
+
+The severe barrenness of the staircase made them very grave. An
+attendant, superbly attired in a red waistcoat and a coat trimmed with
+gold lace, who seemed to be awaiting them on the landing, increased
+their emotion. It was with great respect, and treading as softly as
+possible, that they entered the French Gallery.
+
+Then, without stopping, their eyes occupied with the gilding of the
+frames, they followed the string of little rooms, glancing at the
+passing pictures too numerous to be seen properly. It would have
+required an hour before each, if they had wanted to understand it. What
+a number of pictures! There was no end to them. They must be worth a
+mint of money. Right at the end, Monsieur Madinier suddenly ordered a
+halt opposite the "Raft of the Medusa" and he explained the subject to
+them. All deeply impressed and motionless, they uttered not a word. When
+they started off again, Boche expressed the general feeling, saying it
+was marvellous.
+
+In the Apollo Gallery, the inlaid flooring especially astonished the
+party--a shining floor, as clear as a mirror, and which reflected the
+legs of the seats. Mademoiselle Remanjou kept her eyes closed, because
+she could not help thinking that she was walking on water. They
+called to Madame Gaudron to be careful how she trod on account of
+her condition. Monsieur Madinier wanted to show them the gilding and
+paintings of the ceiling; but it nearly broke their necks to look up
+above, and they could distinguish nothing. Then, before entering the
+Square Salon, he pointed to a window, saying:
+
+"That's the balcony from which Charles IX. fired on the people."
+
+He looked back to make sure the party was following. In the middle
+of the Salon Carre, he held up his hand. "There are only masterpieces
+here," he said, in a subdued voice, as though in church. They went all
+around the room. Gervaise wanted to know about "The Wedding at Cana."
+Coupeau paused to stare at the "Mona Lisa," saying that she reminded him
+of one of his aunts. Boche and Bibi-the-Smoker snickered at the nudes,
+pointing them out to each other and winking. The Gaudrons looked at the
+"Virgin" of Murillo, he with his mouth open, she with her hands folded
+on her belly.
+
+When they had been all around the Salon, Monsieur Madinier wished them
+to go round it again, it was so worth while. He was very attentive to
+Madame Lorilleux, because of her silk dress; and each time that she
+questioned him he answered her gravely, with great assurance. She was
+curious about "Titian's Mistress" because the yellow hair resembled her
+own. He told her it was "La Belle Ferronniere," a mistress of Henry IV.
+about whom there had been a play at the Ambigu.
+
+Then the wedding party invaded the long gallery occupied by the Italian
+and Flemish schools. More paintings, always paintings, saints, men and
+women, with faces which some of them could understand, landscapes that
+were all black, animals turned yellow, a medley of people and things,
+the great mixture of the colors of which was beginning to give them
+all violent headaches. Monsieur Madinier no longer talked as he slowly
+headed the procession, which followed him in good order, with stretched
+necks and upcast eyes. Centuries of art passed before their bewildered
+ignorance, the fine sharpness of the early masters, the splendors of
+the Venetians, the vigorous life, beautiful with light, of the Dutch
+painters. But what interested them most were the artists who were
+copying, with their easels planted amongst the people, painting away
+unrestrainedly; an old lady, mounted on a pair of high steps, working a
+big brush over the delicate sky of an immense painting, struck them as
+something most peculiar.
+
+Slowly the word must have gone around that a wedding party was visiting
+the Louvre. Several painters came over with big smiles. Some visitors
+were so curious that they went to sit on benches ahead of the group in
+order to be comfortable while they watched them pass in review. Museum
+guards bit back comments. The wedding party was now quite weary and
+beginning to drag their feet.
+
+Monsieur Madinier was reserving himself to give more effect to a
+surprise that he had in store. He went straight to the "Kermesse" of
+Rubens; but still he said nothing. He contented himself with directing
+the others' attention to the picture by a sprightly glance. The ladies
+uttered faint cries the moment they brought their noses close to the
+painting. Then, blushing deeply they turned away their heads. The men
+though kept them there, cracking jokes, and seeking for the coarser
+details.
+
+"Just look!" exclaimed Boche, "it's worth the money. There's one
+spewing, and another, he's watering the dandelions; and that one--oh!
+that one. Ah, well! They're a nice clean lot, they are!"
+
+"Let us be off," said Monsieur Madinier, delighted with his success.
+"There is nothing more to see here."
+
+They retraced their steps, passing again through the Salon Carre and
+the Apollo Gallery. Madame Lerat and Mademoiselle Remanjou complained,
+declaring that their legs could scarcely bear them. But the cardboard
+box manufacturer wanted to show Lorilleux the old jewelry. It was close
+by in a little room which he could find with his eyes shut. However, he
+made a mistake and led the wedding party astray through seven or eight
+cold, deserted rooms, only ornamented with severe looking-glass cases,
+containing numberless broken pots and hideous little figures.
+
+While looking for an exit they stumbled into the collection of drawings.
+It was immense. Through room after room they saw nothing interesting,
+just scribblings on paper that filled all the cases and covered the
+walls. They thought there was no end to these drawings.
+
+Monsieur Madinier, losing his head, not willing to admit that he did
+not know his way, ascended a flight of stairs, making the wedding party
+mount to the next floor. This time they traversed the Naval Museum,
+among models of instruments and cannons, plans in relief, and vessels as
+tiny as playthings. After going a long way, and walking for a quarter
+of an hour, the party came upon another staircase; and, having descended
+this, found itself once more surrounded by the drawings. Then despair
+took possession of them as they wandered at random through long halls,
+following Monsieur Madinier, who was furious and mopping the sweat
+from his forehead. He accused the government of having moved the doors
+around. Museum guards and visitors looked on with astonishment as the
+procession, still in a column of couples, passed by. They passed again
+through the Salon Carre, the French Gallery and then along the cases
+where minor Eastern divinities slumbered peacefully. It seemed they
+would never find their way out. They were getting tired and made a lot
+of noise.
+
+"Closing time! Closing time!" called out the attendants, in a loud tone
+of voice.
+
+And the wedding party was nearly locked in. An attendant was obliged to
+place himself at the head of it, and conduct it to a door. Then in the
+courtyard of the Louvre, when it had recovered its umbrellas from the
+cloakroom, it breathed again. Monsieur Madinier regained his assurance.
+He had made a mistake in not turning to the left, now he recollected
+that the jewelry was to the left. The whole party pretended to be very
+pleased at having seen all they had.
+
+Four o'clock was striking. There were still two hours to be employed
+before the dinner time, so it was decided they should take a stroll,
+just to occupy the interval. The ladies, who were very tired, would have
+preferred to sit down; but, as no one offered any refreshments, they
+started off, following the line of quays. There they encountered another
+shower and so sharp a one that in spite of the umbrellas, the ladies'
+dresses began to get wet. Madame Lorilleux, her heart sinking within
+her each time a drop fell upon her black silk, proposed that they should
+shelter themselves under the Pont-Royal; besides if the others did not
+accompany her, she threatened to go all by herself. And the procession
+marched under one of the arches of the bridge. They were very
+comfortable there. It was, most decidedly a capital idea! The ladies,
+spreading their handkerchiefs over the paving-stones, sat down with
+their knees wide apart, and pulled out the blades of grass that grew
+between the stones with both hands, whilst they watched the dark flowing
+water as though they were in the country. The men amused themselves with
+calling out very loud, so as to awaken the echoes of the arch. Boche and
+Bibi-the-Smoker shouted insults into the air at the top of their voices,
+one after the other. They laughed uproariously when the echo threw the
+insults back at them. When their throats were hoarse from shouting, they
+made a game of skipping flat stones on the surface of the Seine.
+
+The shower had ceased but the whole party felt so comfortable that no
+one thought of moving away. The Seine was flowing by, an oily sheet
+carrying bottle corks, vegetable peelings, and other refuse that
+sometimes collected in temporary whirlpools moving along with the
+turbulent water. Endless traffic rumbled on the bridge overhead, the
+noisy bustle of Paris, of which they could glimpse only the rooftops to
+the left and right, as though they were in the bottom of a deep pit.
+
+Mademoiselle Remanjou sighed; if the leaves had been out this would have
+reminded her of a bend of the Marne where she used to go with a young
+man. It still made her cry to think of him.
+
+At last, Monsieur Madinier gave the signal for departure. They passed
+through the Tuileries gardens, in the midst of a little community of
+children, whose hoops and balls upset the good order of the couples.
+Then as the wedding party on arriving at the Place Vendome looked up at
+the column, Monsieur Madinier gallantly offered to treat the ladies to a
+view from the top. His suggestion was considered extremely amusing. Yes,
+yes, they would go up; it would give them something to laugh about for
+a long time. Besides, it would be full of interest for those persons who
+had never been higher than a cow pasture.
+
+"Do you think Clump-clump will venture inside there with her leg all out
+of place?" murmured Madame Lorilleux.
+
+"I'll go up with pleasure," said Madame Lerat, "but I won't have any men
+walking behind me."
+
+And the whole party ascended. In the narrow space afforded by the spiral
+staircase, the twelve persons crawled up one after the other, stumbling
+against the worn steps, and clinging to the walls. Then, when the
+obscurity became complete, they almost split their sides with laughing.
+The ladies screamed when the gentlemen pinched their legs. But they were
+weren't stupid enough to say anything! The proper plan is to think that
+it is the mice nibbling at them. It wasn't very serious; the men knew
+when to stop.
+
+Boche thought of a joke and everyone took it up. They called down to
+Madame Gaudron to ask her if she could squeeze her belly through. Just
+think! If she should get stuck there, she would completely block the
+passage, and how would they ever get out? They laughed so at the jokes
+about her belly that the column itself vibrated. Boche was now quite
+carried away and declared that they were growing old climbing up this
+chimney pipe. Was it ever coming to an end, or did it go right up to
+heaven? He tried to frighten the ladies by telling them the structure
+was shaking.
+
+Coupeau, meanwhile, said nothing. He was behind Gervaise, with his arm
+around her waist, and felt that she was everything perfect to him. When
+they suddenly emerged again into the daylight, he was just in the act of
+kissing her on the cheek.
+
+"Well! You're a nice couple; you don't stand on ceremony," said Madame
+Lorilleux with a scandalized air.
+
+Bibi-the-Smoker pretended to be furious. He muttered between his teeth.
+"You made such a noise together! I wasn't even able to count the steps."
+
+But Monsieur Madinier was already up on the platform, pointing out the
+different monuments. Neither Madame Fauconnier nor Mademoiselle Remanjou
+would on any consideration leave the staircase. The thought of the
+pavement below made their blood curdle, and they contented themselves
+with glancing out of the little door. Madame Lerat, who was bolder, went
+round the narrow terrace, keeping close to the bronze dome; but, _mon
+Dieu_, it gave one a rude emotion to think that one only had to slip
+off. The men were a little paler than usual as they stared down at the
+square below. You would think you were up in mid-air, detached from
+everything. No, it wasn't fun, it froze your very insides.
+
+Monsieur Madinier told them to raise their eyes and look straight
+into the distance to avoid feeling dizzy. He went on pointing out the
+Invalides, the Pantheon, Notre Dame and the Montmartre hill. Madame
+Lorilleux asked if they could see the place where they were to have
+dinner, the Silver Windmill on the Boulevard de la Chapelle. For ten
+minutes they tried to see it, even arguing about it. Everyone had their
+own idea where it was.
+
+"It wasn't worth while coming up here to bite each other's noses off,"
+said Boche, angrily as he turned to descend the staircase.
+
+The wedding party went down, unspeaking and sulky, awakening no other
+sound beyond that of shoes clanking on the stone steps. When it reached
+the bottom, Monsieur Madinier wished to pay; but Coupeau would not
+permit him, and hastened to place twenty-four sous into the keeper's
+hand, two sous for each person. So they returned by the Boulevards and
+the Faubourg du Poissonniers. Coupeau, however, considered that their
+outing could not end like that. He bundled them all into a wineshop
+where they took some vermouth.
+
+The repast was ordered for six o'clock. At the Silver Windmill, they
+had been waiting for the wedding party for a good twenty minutes. Madame
+Boche, who had got a lady living in the same house to attend to her
+duties for the evening, was conversing with mother Coupeau in the first
+floor room, in front of the table, which was all laid out; and the two
+youngsters, Claude and Etienne, whom she had brought with her, were
+playing about beneath the table and amongst the chairs. When Gervaise,
+on entering caught sight of the little ones, whom she had not seen all
+the day, she took them on her knees, and caressed and kissed them.
+
+"Have they been good?" asked she of Madame Boche. "I hope they haven't
+worried you too much."
+
+And as the latter related the things the little rascals had done during
+the afternoon, and which would make one die with laughing, the mother
+again took them up and pressed them to her breast, seized with an
+overpowering outburst of maternal affection.
+
+"It's not very pleasant for Coupeau, all the same," Madame Lorilleux was
+saying to the other ladies, at the end of the room.
+
+Gervaise had kept her smiling peacefulness from the morning, but after
+the long walk she appeared almost sad at times as she watched her
+husband and the Lorilleuxs in a thoughtful way. She had the feeling that
+Coupeau was a little afraid of his sister. The evening before, he had
+been talking big, swearing he would put them in their places if they
+didn't behave. However, she could see that in their presence he
+was hanging on their words, worrying when he thought they might be
+displeased. This gave the young bride some cause for worry about the
+future.
+
+They were now only waiting for My-Boots, who had not yet put in an
+appearance.
+
+"Oh! blow him!" cried Coupeau, "let's begin. You'll see, he'll soon turn
+up, he's got a hollow nose, he can scent the grub from afar. I say he
+must be amusing himself, if he's still standing like a post on the Route
+de Saint-Denis!"
+
+Then the wedding party, feeling very lively, sat down making a great
+noise with the chairs. Gervaise was between Lorilleux and Monsieur
+Madinier, and Coupeau between Madame Fauconnier and Madame Lorilleux.
+The other guests seated themselves where they liked, because it always
+ended with jealousies and quarrels, when one settled their places for
+them. Boche glided to a seat beside Madame Lerat. Bibi-the-Smoker had
+for neighbors Mademoiselle Remanjou and Madame Gaudron. As for Madame
+Boche and mother Coupeau, they were right at the end of the table,
+looking after the children, cutting up their meat and giving them
+something to drink, but not much wine.
+
+"Does nobody say grace?" asked Boche, whilst the ladies arranged their
+skirts under the table-cloth, so as not to get them stained.
+
+But Madame Lorilleux paid no attention to such pleasantries. The
+vermicelli soup, which was nearly cold, was gulped down very quickly,
+their lips making a hissing noise against the spoons. Two waiters served
+at table, dressed in little greasy jackets and not over-clean white
+aprons. By the four open windows overlooking the acacias of the
+courtyard there entered the clear light of the close of a stormy day,
+with the atmosphere purified thereby though without sufficiently cooling
+it. The light reflected from the humid corner of trees tinged the
+haze-filled room with green and made leaf shadows dance along the
+table-cloth, from which came a vague aroma of dampness and mildew.
+
+Two large mirrors, one at each end of the room, seemed to stretch out
+the table. The heavy crockery with which it was set was beginning to
+turn yellow and the cutlery was scratched and grimed with grease. Each
+time a waiter came through the swinging doors from the kitchen a whiff
+of odorous burnt lard came with him.
+
+"Don't all talk at once," said Boche, as everyone remained silent with
+his nose in his plate.
+
+They were drinking the first glass of wine as their eyes followed two
+meat pies which the waiters were handing round when My-Boots entered the
+room.
+
+"Well, you're a scurvy lot, you people!" said he. "I've been wearing my
+pins out for three hours waiting on that road, and a gendarme even came
+and asked me for my papers. It isn't right to play such dirty tricks on
+a friend! You might at least have sent me word by a commissionaire. Ah!
+no, you know, joking apart, it's too bad. And with all that, it rained
+so hard that I got my pickets full of water. Honor bright, you might
+still catch enough fish in 'em for a meal."
+
+The others wriggled with laughter. That animal My-Boots was just a bit
+on; he had certainly already stowed away his two quarts of wine, merely
+to prevent his being bothered by all that frog's liquor with which the
+storm had deluged his limbs.
+
+"Hallo! Count Leg-of-Mutton!" said Coupeau, "just go and sit yourself
+there, beside Madame Gaudron. You see you were expected."
+
+Oh, he did not mind, he would soon catch the others up; and he asked
+for three helpings of soup, platefuls of vermicelli, in which he soaked
+enormous slices of bread. Then, when they had attacked the meat pies, he
+became the profound admiration of everyone at the table. How he stowed
+it away! The bewildered waiters helped each other to pass him bread,
+thin slices which he swallowed at a mouthful. He ended by losing his
+temper; he insisted on having a loaf placed on the table beside him. The
+landlord, very anxious, came for a moment and looked in at the door. The
+party, which was expecting him, again wriggled with laughter. It seemed
+to upset the caterer. What a rum card he was that My-Boots! One day he
+had eaten a dozen hard-boiled eggs and drank a dozen glasses of wine
+while the clock was striking twelve! There are not many who can do that.
+And Mademoiselle Remanjou, deeply moved, watched My-Boots chew whilst
+Monsieur Madinier, seeking for a word to express his almost respectful
+astonishment, declared that such a capacity was extraordinary.
+
+There was a brief silence. A waiter had just placed on the table a
+ragout of rabbits in a vast dish as deep as a salad-bowl. Coupeau, who
+liked fun, started another joke.
+
+"I say, waiter, that rabbit's from the housetops. It still mews."
+
+And in fact, a faint mew perfectly imitated seemed to issue from the
+dish. It was Coupeau who did that with his throat, without opening his
+lips; a talent which at all parties, met with decided success, so much
+so that he never ordered a dinner abroad without having a rabbit ragout.
+After that he purred. The ladies pressed their napkins to their mouths
+to try and stop their laughter. Madame Fauconnier asked for a head,
+she only liked that part. Mademoiselle Remanjou had a weakness for the
+slices of bacon. And as Boche said he preferred the little onions
+when they were nicely broiled, Madame Lerat screwed up her lips, and
+murmured:
+
+"I can understand that."
+
+She was a dried up stick, living the cloistered life of a hard-working
+woman imprisoned within her daily routine, who had never had a man stick
+his nose into her room since the death of her husband; yet she had
+an obsession with double meanings and indecent allusions that were
+sometimes so far off the mark that only she understood them.
+
+As Boche leaned toward her and, in a whisper, asked for an explanation,
+she resumed:
+
+"Little onions, why of course. That's quite enough, I think."
+
+The general conversation was becoming grave. Each one was talking of his
+trade. Monsieur Madinier raved about the cardboard business. There were
+some real artists. For an example, he mentioned Christmas gift boxes, of
+which he'd seen samples that were marvels of splendor.
+
+Lorilleux sneered at this; he was extremely vain because of working with
+gold, feeling that it gave a sort of sheen to his fingers and his whole
+personality. "In olden times jewelers wore swords like gentlemen." He
+often cited the case of Bernard Palissy, even though he really knew
+nothing about him.
+
+Coupeau told of a masterpiece of a weather vane made by one of his
+fellow workers which included a Greek column, a sheaf of wheat, a basket
+of fruit, and a flag, all beautifully worked out of nothing but strips
+of zinc shaped and soldered together.
+
+Madame Lerat showed Bibi-the-Smoker how to make a rose by rolling the
+handle of her knife between her bony fingers.
+
+All the while, their voices had been rising louder and louder, competing
+for attention. Shrill comments by Madame Fauconnier were heard. She
+complained about the girls who worked for her, especially a little
+apprentice who was nothing but a tart and had badly scorched some sheets
+the evening before.
+
+"You may talk," Lorilleux cried, banging his fist down on the table,
+"but gold is gold."
+
+And, in the midst of the silence caused by the statement of this
+fact, the only sound heard was Mademoiselle Remanjou's shrill voice
+continuing:
+
+"Then I turn up the skirt and stitch it inside. I stick a pin in the
+head to keep the cap on, and that's all; and they are sold for thirteen
+sous a piece."
+
+She was explaining how she dressed her dolls to My-Boots, whose jaws
+were working slowly like grindstones. He did not listen, though he kept
+nodding his head, but looked after the waiters to prevent them removing
+any of the dishes he had not cleaned out. They had now finished a veal
+stew with green beans. The roast was brought in, two scrawny chickens
+resting on a bed of water cress which was limp from the warming oven.
+
+Outside, only the higher branches of the acacias were touched by the
+setting sun. Inside, the greenish reflected light was thickened by wisps
+of steam rising from the table, now messy with spilled wine and gravy
+and the debris of the dinner. Along the wall were dirty dishes and empty
+bottles which the waiters had piled there like a heap of refuse. It was
+so hot that the men took off their jackets and continued eating in their
+shirt sleeves.
+
+"Madame Boche, please don't spread their butter so thick," said
+Gervaise, who spoke but little, and who was watching Claude and Etienne
+from a distance.
+
+She got up from her seat, and went and talked for a minute while
+standing behind the little ones' chairs. Children did not reason; they
+would eat all day long without refusing a single thing; and then she
+herself helped them to some chicken, a little of the breast. But mother
+Coupeau said they might, just for once in a while, risk an attack of
+indigestion. Madame Boche, in a low voice accused Boche of caressing
+Madame Lerat's knees. Oh, he was a sly one, but he was getting a little
+too gay. She had certainly seen his hand disappear. If he did it again,
+drat him! she wouldn't hesitate throwing a pitcher of water over his
+head.
+
+In the partial silence, Monsieur Madinier was talking politics. "Their
+law of May 31, is an abominable one. Now you must reside in a place for
+two years. Three millions of citizens are struck off the voting lists.
+I've been told that Bonaparte is, in reality, very much annoyed for he
+loves the people; he has given them proofs."
+
+He was a republican; but he admired the prince on account of his uncle,
+a man the like of whom would never be seen again. Bibi-the-Smoker flew
+into a passion. He had worked at the Elysee; he had seen Bonaparte
+just as he saw My-Boots in front of him over there. Well that muff of a
+president was just like a jackass, that was all! It was said that he was
+going to travel about in the direction of Lyons; it would be a precious
+good riddance of bad rubbish if he fell into some hole and broke his
+neck. But, as the discussion was becoming too heated, Coupeau had to
+interfere.
+
+"Ah, well! How simple you all are to quarrel about politics. Politics
+are all humbug! Do such things exist for us? Let there be any one as
+king, it won't prevent me earning my five francs a day, and eating and
+sleeping; isn't that so? No, it's too stupid to argue about!"
+
+Lorilleux shook his head. He was born on the same day as the Count of
+Chambord, the 29th of September, 1820. He was greatly struck with this
+coincidence, indulging himself in a vague dream, in which he established
+a connection between the king's return to France and his own private
+fortunes. He never said exactly what he was expecting, but he led
+people to suppose that when that time arrived something extraordinarily
+agreeable would happen to him. So whenever he had a wish too great to be
+gratified, he would put it off to another time, when the king came back.
+
+"Besides," observed he, "I saw the Count de Chambord one evening."
+
+Every face was turned towards him.
+
+"It's quite true. A stout man, in an overcoat, and with a good-natured
+air. I was at Pequignot's, one of my friends who deals in furniture in
+the Grand Rue de la Chapelle. The Count of Chambord had forgotten his
+umbrella there the day before; so he came in, and just simply said, like
+this: 'Will you please return me my umbrella?' Well, yes, it was him;
+Pequignot gave me his word of honor it was."
+
+Not one of the guests suggested the smallest doubt. They had now arrived
+at dessert and the waiters were clearing the table with much clattering
+of dishes. Madame Lorilleux, who up to then had been very genteel, very
+much the lady, suddenly let fly with a curse. One of the waiters had
+spilled something wet down her neck while removing a dish. This time her
+silk dress would be stained for sure. Monsieur Madinier had to examine
+her back, but he swore there was nothing to be seen.
+
+Two platters of cheese, two dishes of fruit, and a floating island
+pudding of frosted eggs in a deep salad-bowl had now been placed along
+the middle of the table. The pudding caused a moment of respectful
+attention even though the overdone egg whites had flattened on the
+yellow custard. It was unexpected and seemed very fancy.
+
+My-Boots was still eating. He had asked for another loaf. He finished
+what there was of the cheese; and, as there was some cream left, he had
+the salad-bowl passed to him, into which he sliced some large pieces of
+bread as though for a soup.
+
+"The gentleman is really remarkable," said Monsieur Madinier, again
+giving way to his admiration.
+
+Then the men rose to get their pipes. They stood for a moment behind
+My-Boots, patting him on the back, and asking him if he was feeling
+better. Bibi-the-Smoker lifted him up in his chair; but _tonnerre de
+Dieu!_ the animal had doubled in weight. Coupeau joked that My-Boots was
+only getting started, that now he was going to settle down and really
+eat for the rest of the night. The waiters were startled and quickly
+vanished from sight.
+
+Boche, who had gone downstairs for a moment, came up to report the
+proprietor's reaction. He was standing behind his bar, pale as death.
+His wife, dreadfully upset, was wondering if any bakeries were still
+open. Even the cat seemed deep in despair. This was as funny as could
+be, really worth the price of the dinner. It was impossible to have a
+proper dinner party without My-Boots, the bottomless pit. The other men
+eyed him with a brooding jealousy as they puffed on their pipes. Indeed,
+to be able to eat so much, you had to be very solidly built!
+
+"I wouldn't care to be obliged to support you," said Madame Gaudron.
+"Ah, no; you may take my word for that!"
+
+"I say, little mother, no jokes," replied My-Boots, casting a side
+glance at his neighbor's rotund figure. "You've swallowed more than I
+have."
+
+The others applauded, shouting "Bravo!"--it was well answered. It
+was now pitch dark outside, three gas-jets were flaring in the room,
+diffusing dim rays in the midst of the tobacco-smoke. The waiters, after
+serving the coffee and the brandy, had removed the last piles of dirty
+plates. Down below, beneath the three acacias, dancing had commenced, a
+cornet-a-piston and two fiddles playing very loud, and mingling in the
+warm night air with the rather hoarse laughter of women.
+
+"We must have a punch!" cried My-Boots; "two quarts of brandy, lots of
+lemon, and a little sugar."
+
+But Coupeau, seeing the anxious look on Gervaise's face in front of him,
+got up from the table, declaring that there should be no more drink.
+They had emptied twenty-five quarts, a quart and a half to each person,
+counting the children as grown-up people; that was already too much.
+They had had a feed together in good fellowship, and without ceremony,
+because they esteemed each other, and wished to celebrate the event of
+the day amongst themselves. Everything had been very nice; they had had
+lots of fun. It wouldn't do to get cockeyed drunk now, out of respect to
+the ladies. That was all he had to say, they had come together to toast
+a marriage and they had done so.
+
+Coupeau delivered the little speech with convincing sincerity and
+punctuated each phrase by placing his hand on his heart. He won
+whole-hearted approval from Lorilleux and Monsieur Madinier; but the
+other four men, especially My-Boots, were already well lit and sneered.
+They declared in hoarse drunken voices that they were thirsty and wanted
+drinks.
+
+"Those who're thirsty are thirsty, and those who aren't thirsty aren't
+thirsty," remarked My-Boots. "Therefore, we'll order the punch. No one
+need take offence. The aristocrats can drink sugar-and-water."
+
+And as the zinc-worker commenced another sermon, the other, who had
+risen on his legs, gave himself a slap, exclaiming:
+
+"Come, let's have no more of that, my boy! Waiter, two quarts of your
+aged stuff!"
+
+So Coupeau said very well, only they would settle for the dinner at
+once. It would prevent any disputes. The well-behaved people did not
+want to pay for the drunkards; and it just happened that My-Boots,
+after searching in his pockets for a long time, could only produce three
+francs and seven sous. Well, why had they made him wait all that time on
+the Route de Saint-Denis? He could not let himself be drowned and so he
+had broken into his five-franc piece. It was the fault of the others,
+that was all! He ended by giving the three francs, keeping the seven
+sous for the morrow's tobacco. Coupeau, who was furious, would have
+knocked him over had not Gervaise, greatly frightened, pulled him by his
+coat, and begged him to keep cool. He decided to borrow the two francs
+of Lorilleux, who after refusing them, lent them on the sly, for his
+wife would never have consented to his doing so.
+
+Monsieur Madinier went round with a plate. The spinster and the
+ladies who were alone--Madame Lerat, Madame Fauconnier, Mademoiselle
+Remanjou--discreetly placed their five-franc pieces in it first.
+Then the gentlemen went to the other end of the room, and made up the
+accounts. They were fifteen; it amounted therefore to seventy-five
+francs. When the seventy-five francs were in the plate, each man added
+five sous for the waiters. It took a quarter of an hour of laborious
+calculations before everything was settled to the general satisfaction.
+
+But when Monsieur Madinier, who wished to deal direct with the landlord,
+had got him to step up, the whole party became lost in astonishment on
+hearing him say with a smile that there was still something due to him.
+There were some extras; and, as the word "extras" was greeted with angry
+exclamations, he entered into details:--Twenty-five quarts of wine,
+instead of twenty, the number agreed upon beforehand; the frosted eggs,
+which he had added, as the dessert was rather scanty; finally, a quarter
+of a bottle of rum, served with the coffee, in case any one preferred
+rum. Then a formidable quarrel ensued. Coupeau, who was appealed to,
+protested against everything; he had never mentioned twenty quarts; as
+for the frosted eggs, they were included in the dessert, so much the
+worse for the landlord if he choose to add them without being asked to
+do so. There remained the rum, a mere nothing, just a mode of increasing
+the bill by putting on the table spirits that no one thought anything
+about.
+
+"It was on the tray with the coffee," he cried; "therefore it goes with
+the coffee. Go to the deuce! Take your money, and never again will we
+set foot in your den!"
+
+"It's six francs more," repeated the landlord. "Pay me my six francs;
+and with all that I haven't counted the four loaves that gentleman ate!"
+
+The whole party, pressing forward, surrounded him with furious gestures
+and a yelping of voices choking with rage. The women especially threw
+aside all reserve, and refused to add another centime. This was some
+wedding dinner! Mademoiselle Remanjou vowed she would never again
+attend such a party. Madame Fauconnier declared she had had a very
+disappointing meal; at home she could have had a finger-licking dish for
+only two francs. Madame Gaudron bitterly complained that she had been
+shoved down to the worst end of the table next to My-Boots who had
+ignored her. These parties never turned out well, one should be more
+careful whom one invites. Gervaise had taken refuge with mother Coupeau
+near one of the windows, feeling shamed as she realized that all these
+recriminations would fall back upon her.
+
+Monsieur Madinier ended by going down with the landlord. One could hear
+them arguing below. Then, when half an hour had gone by the cardboard
+box manufacturer returned; he had settled the matter by giving three
+francs. But the party continued annoyed and exasperated, constantly
+returning to the question of the extras. And the uproar increased from
+an act of vigor on Madame Boche's part. She had kept an eye on Boche,
+and at length detected him squeezing Madame Lerat round the waist in a
+corner. Then, with all her strength, she flung a water pitcher, which
+smashed against the wall.
+
+"One can easily see that your husband's a tailor, madame," said the
+tall widow, with a curl of the lip, full of a double meaning. "He's
+a petticoat specialist, even though I gave him some pretty hard kicks
+under the table."
+
+The harmony of the evening was altogether upset. Everyone became more
+and more ill-tempered. Monsieur Madinier suggested some singing, but
+Bibi-the-Smoker, who had a fine voice, had disappeared some time before;
+and Mademoiselle Remanjou, who was leaning out of the window, caught
+sight of him under the acacias, swinging round a big girl who was
+bare-headed. The cornet-a-piston and two fiddles were playing "_Le
+Marchand de Moutarde_." The party now began to break up. My-Boots and
+the Gaudrons went down to the dance with Boche sneaking along after
+them. The twirling couples could be seen from the windows. The night
+was still as though exhausted from the heat of the day. A serious
+conversation started between Lorilleux and Monsieur Madinier. The ladies
+examined their dresses carefully to see if they had been stained.
+
+Madame Lerat's fringe looked as though it had been dipped in the
+coffee. Madame Fauconnier's chintz dress was spotted with gravy. Mother
+Coupeau's green shawl, fallen from off a chair, was discovered in
+a corner, rolled up and trodden upon. But it was Madame Lorilleux
+especially who became more ill-tempered still. She had a stain on the
+back of her dress; it was useless for the others to declare that she
+had not--she felt it. And, by twisting herself about in front of a
+looking-glass, she ended by catching a glimpse of it.
+
+"What did I say?" cried she. "It's gravy from the fowl. The waiter shall
+pay for the dress. I will bring an action against him. Ah! this is a fit
+ending to such a day. I should have done better to have stayed in bed.
+To begin with, I'm off. I've had enough of their wretched wedding!"
+
+And she left the room in a rage, causing the staircase to shake beneath
+her heavy footsteps. Lorilleux ran after her. But all she would consent
+to was that she would wait five minutes on the pavement outside, if he
+wanted them to go off together. She ought to have left directly after
+the storm, as she wished to do. She would make Coupeau sorry for that
+day. Coupeau was dismayed when he heard how angry she was. Gervaise
+agreed to leave at once to avoid embarrassing him any more.
+
+There was a flurry of quick good-night kisses. Monsieur Madinier was to
+escort mother Coupeau home. Madame Boche would take Claude and Etienne
+with her for the bridal night. The children were sound asleep on chairs,
+stuffed full from the dinner. Just as the bridal couple and Lorilleux
+were about to go out the door, a quarrel broke out near the dance floor
+between their group and another group. Boche and My-Boots were kissing a
+lady and wouldn't give her up to her escorts, two soldiers.
+
+It was scarcely eleven o'clock. On the Boulevard de la Chapelle, and in
+the entire neighborhood of the Goutte-d'Or, the fortnight's pay, which
+fell due on that Saturday, produced an enormous drunken uproar. Madame
+Lorilleux was waiting beneath a gas-lamp about twenty paces from the
+Silver Windmill. She took her husband's arm, and walked on in front
+without looking round, at such a rate, that Gervaise and Coupeau got
+quite out of breath in trying to keep up with them. Now and again they
+stepped off the pavement to leave room for some drunkard who had fallen
+there. Lorilleux looked back, endeavoring to make things pleasant.
+
+"We will see you as far as your door," said he.
+
+But Madame Lorilleux, raising her voice, thought it a funny thing to
+spend one's wedding night in such a filthy hole as the Hotel Boncoeur.
+Ought they not to have put their marriage off, and have saved a few
+sous to buy some furniture, so as to have had a home of their own on
+the first night? Ah! they would be comfortable, right up under the roof,
+packed into a little closet, at ten francs a month, where there was not
+even the slightest air.
+
+"I've given notice, we're not going to use the room up at the top of
+the house," timidly interposed Coupeau. "We are keeping Gervaise's room,
+which is larger."
+
+Madame Lorilleux forgot herself. She turned abruptly round.
+
+"That's worse than all!" cried she. "You're going to sleep in
+Clump-clump's room."
+
+Gervaise became quite pale. This nickname, which she received full in
+the face for the first time, fell on her like a blow. And she fully
+understood it, too, her sister-in-law's exclamation: the Clump-clump's
+room was the room in which she had lived for a month with Lantier, where
+the shreds of her past life still hung about. Coupeau did not understand
+this, but merely felt hurt at the harsh nickname.
+
+"You do wrong to christen others," he replied angrily. "You don't know
+perhaps, that in the neighborhood they call you Cow's-Tail, because of
+your hair. There, that doesn't please you, does it? Why should we not
+keep the room on the first floor? To-night the children won't sleep
+there, and we shall be very comfortable."
+
+Madame Lorilleux added nothing further, but retired into her dignity,
+horribly annoyed at being called Cow's-Tail. To cheer up Gervaise,
+Coupeau squeezed her arm softly. He even succeeded in making her smile
+by whispering into her ear that they were setting up housekeeping with
+the grand sum of seven sous, three big two-sou pieces and one little
+sou, which he jingled in his pocket.
+
+When they reached the Hotel Boncoeur, the two couples wished each other
+good-night, with an angry air; and as Coupeau pushed the two women into
+each other's arms, calling them a couple of ninnies, a drunken fellow,
+who seemed to want to go to the right, suddenly slipped to the left and
+came tumbling between them.
+
+"Why, it's old Bazouge!" said Lorilleux. "He's had his fill to-day."
+
+Gervaise, frightened, squeezed up against the door of the hotel. Old
+Bazouge, an undertaker's helper of some fifty years of age, had his
+black trousers all stained with mud, his black cape hooked on to his
+shoulder, and his black feather hat knocked in by some tumble he had
+taken.
+
+"Don't be afraid, he's harmless," continued Lorilleux. "He's a neighbor
+of ours--the third room in the passage before us. He would find himself
+in a nice mess if his people were to see him like this!"
+
+Old Bazouge, however, felt offended at the young woman's evident terror.
+
+"Well, what!" hiccoughed he, "we ain't going to eat any one. I'm as
+good as another any day, my little woman. No doubt I've had a drop!
+When work's plentiful one must grease the wheels. It's not you, nor your
+friends, who would have carried down the stiff 'un of forty-seven stone
+whom I and a pal brought from the fourth floor to the pavement, and
+without smashing him too. I like jolly people."
+
+But Gervaise retreated further into the doorway, seized with a longing
+to cry, which spoilt her day of sober-minded joy. She no longer thought
+of kissing her sister-in-law, she implored Coupeau to get rid of
+the drunkard. Then Bazouge, as he stumbled about, made a gesture of
+philosophical disdain.
+
+"That won't prevent you passing though our hands, my little woman.
+You'll perhaps be glad to do so, one of these days. Yes, I know some
+women who'd be much obliged if we did carry them off."
+
+And, as Lorilleux led him away, he turned around, and stuttered out a
+last sentence, between two hiccoughs.
+
+"When you're dead--listen to this--when you're dead, it's for a long,
+long time."
+
+
+
+CHAPTER IV.
+
+Then followed four years of hard work. In the neighborhood, Gervaise and
+Coupeau had the reputation of being a happy couple, living in retirement
+without quarrels, and taking a short walk regularly every Sunday in
+the direction of St. Ouen. The wife worked twelve hours a day at Madame
+Fauconnier's, and still found means to keep their lodging as clean and
+bright as a new coined sou and to prepare the meals for all her little
+family, morning and evening. The husband never got drunk, brought his
+wages home every fortnight, and smoked a pipe at his window in the
+evening, to get a breath of fresh air before going to bed. They were
+frequently alluded to on account of their nice, pleasant ways; and as
+between them they earned close upon nine francs a day, it was reckoned
+that they were able to put by a good deal of money.
+
+However, during their first months together they had to struggle hard to
+get by. Their wedding had left them owing two hundred francs. Also, they
+detested the Hotel Boncoeur as they didn't like the other occupants.
+Their dream was to have a home of their own with their own furniture.
+They were always figuring how much they would need and decided three
+hundred and fifty francs at least, in order to be able to buy little
+items that came up later.
+
+They were in despair at ever being able to collect such a large sum when
+a lucky chance came their way. An old gentleman at Plassans offered to
+take the older boy, Claude, and send him to an academy down there. The
+old man, who loved art, had previously been much impressed by Claude's
+sketches. Claude had already begun to cost them quite a bit. Now, with
+only Etienne to support, they were able to accumulate the money in a
+little over seven months. One day they were finally able to buy their
+own furniture from a second-hand dealer on Rue Belhomme. Their hearts
+filled with happiness, they celebrated by walking home along the
+exterior Boulevards.
+
+They had purchased a bed, a night table, a chest of drawers with a
+marble top, a wardrobe, a round table covered with oilcloth, and six
+chairs. All were of dark mahogany. They also bought blankets, linen,
+and kitchen utensils that were scarcely used. It meant settling down and
+giving themselves a status in life as property owners, as persons to be
+respected.
+
+For two months past they had been busy seeking some new apartments. At
+first they wanted above everything to hire these in the big house of the
+Rue de la Goutte-d'Or. But there was not a single room to let there; so
+that they had to relinquish their old dream. To tell the truth, Gervaise
+was rather glad in her heart; the neighborhood of the Lorilleux
+almost door to door, frightened her immensely. Then, they looked about
+elsewhere. Coupeau, very properly did not wish to be far from Madame
+Fauconnier's so that Gervaise could easily run home at any hour of the
+day. And at length they met with exactly what suited them, a large room
+with a small closet and a kitchen, in the Rue Neuve de la Goutte-d'Or,
+almost opposite the laundress's. This was in a small two-story building
+with a very steep staircase. There were two apartments on the second
+floor, one to the left, the other to the right, The ground floor was
+occupied by a man who rented out carriages, which filled the sheds in
+the large stable yard by the street.
+
+Gervaise was delighted with this as it made her feel she was back in a
+country town. With no close neighbors there would be no gossip to worry
+about in this little corner. It reminded her of a small lane outside the
+ramparts of Plassans. She could even see her own window while ironing at
+the laundry by just tilting her head to the side.
+
+They took possession of their new abode at the April quarter. Gervaise
+was then eight months advanced. But she showed great courage, saying
+with a laugh that the baby helped her as she worked; she felt its
+influence growing within her and giving her strength. Ah, well! She just
+laughed at Coupeau whenever he wanted her to lie down and rest herself!
+She would take to her bed when the labor pains came. That would be
+quite soon enough as with another mouth to feed, they would have to work
+harder than ever.
+
+She made their new place bright and shiny before helping her husband
+install the furniture. She loved the furniture, polishing it and
+becoming almost heart-broken at the slightest scratch. Any time she
+knocked into the furniture while cleaning she would stop with a sudden
+shock as though she had hurt herself.
+
+The chest of drawers was especially dear to her. She thought it
+handsome, sturdy and most respectable-looking. The dream that she hadn't
+dared to mention was to get a clock and put it right in the middle of
+the marble top. It would make a splendid effect. She probably would have
+bought one right away except for the expected baby.
+
+The couple were thoroughly enchanted with their new home. Etienne's bed
+occupied the small closet, where there was still room to put another
+child's crib. The kitchen was a very tiny affair and as dark as night,
+but by leaving the door wide open, one could just manage to see;
+besides, Gervaise had not to cook meals for thirty people, all she
+wanted was room to make her soup. As for the large room, it was their
+pride. The first thing in the morning, they drew the curtains of the
+alcove, white calico curtains; and the room was thus transformed into a
+dining-room, with the table in the centre, and the wardrobe and chest of
+drawers facing each other.
+
+They stopped up the chimney since it burned as much as fifteen sous
+of coal a day. A small cast-iron stove on the marble hearth gave them
+enough warmth on cold days for only seven sous. Coupeau had also done
+his best to decorate the walls. There was a large engraving showing
+a marshal of France on horseback with a baton in his hand. Family
+photographs were arranged in two rows on top of the chest of drawers on
+each side of an old holy-water basin in which they kept matches. Busts
+of Pascal and Beranger were on top of the wardrobe. It was really a
+handsome room.
+
+"Guess how much we pay here?" Gervaise would ask of every visitor she
+had.
+
+And whenever they guessed too high a sum, she triumphed and delighted at
+being so well suited for such a little money, cried:
+
+"One hundred and fifty francs, not a sou more! Isn't it almost like
+having it for nothing!"
+
+The street, Rue Neuve de la Goutte d'Or, played an important part in
+their contentment. Gervaise's whole life was there, as she traveled back
+and forth endlessly between her home and Madame Fauconnier's laundry.
+Coupeau now went down every evening and stood on the doorstep to smoke
+his pipe. The poorly-paved street rose steeply and had no sidewalks.
+Toward Rue de la Goutte d'Or there were some gloomy shops with dirty
+windows. There were shoemakers, coopers, a run-down grocery, and a
+bankrupt cafe whose closed shutters were covered with posters. In the
+opposite direction, toward Paris, four-story buildings blocked the
+sky. Their ground floor shops were all occupied by laundries with
+one exception--a green-painted store front typical of a small-town
+hair-dresser. Its shop windows were full of variously colored flasks. It
+lighted up this drab corner with the gay brightness of its copper bowls
+which were always shining.
+
+The most pleasant part of the street was in between, where the buildings
+were fewer and lower, letting in more sunlight. The carriage sheds, the
+plant which manufactured soda water, and the wash-house opposite made a
+wide expanse of quietness. The muffled voices of the washerwomen and
+the rhythmic puffing of the steam engine seemed to deepen the almost
+religious silence. Open fields and narrow lanes vanishing between dark
+walls gave it the air of a country village. Coupeau, always amused by
+the infrequent pedestrians having to jump over the continuous streams of
+soapy water, said it reminded him of a country town where his uncle had
+taken him when he was five years old. Gervaise's greatest joy was a tree
+growing in the courtyard to the left of their window, an acacia that
+stretched out a single branch and yet, with its meager foliage, lent
+charm to the entire street.
+
+It was on the last day of April that Gervaise was confined. The pains
+came on in the afternoon, towards four o'clock, as she was ironing a
+pair of curtains at Madame Fauconnier's. She would not go home at
+once, but remained there wriggling about on a chair, and continuing
+her ironing every time the pain allowed her to do so; the curtains
+were wanted quickly and she obstinately made a point of finishing them.
+Besides, perhaps after all it was only a colic; it would never do to
+be frightened by a bit of a stomach-ache. But as she was talking of
+starting on some shirts, she became quite pale. She was obliged to leave
+the work-shop, and cross the street doubled in two, holding on to the
+walls. One of the workwomen offered to accompany her; she declined, but
+begged her to go instead for the midwife, close by, in the Rue de la
+Charbonniere. This was only a false alarm; there was no need to make a
+fuss. She would be like that no doubt all through the night. It was not
+going to prevent her getting Coupeau's dinner ready as soon as she
+was indoors; then she might perhaps lie down on the bed a little, but
+without undressing. On the staircase she was seized with such a violent
+pain, that she was obliged to sit down on one of the stairs; and she
+pressed her two fists against her mouth to prevent herself from crying
+out, for she would have been ashamed to have been found there by any
+man, had one come up. The pain passed away; she was able to open
+her door, feeling relieved, and thinking that she had decidedly been
+mistaken. That evening she was going to make a stew with some neck
+chops. All went well while she peeled the potatoes. The chops were
+cooking in a saucepan when the pains returned. She mixed the gravy as
+she stamped about in front of the stove, almost blinded with her tears.
+If she was going to give birth, that was no reason why Coupeau should
+be kept without his dinner. At length the stew began to simmer on a
+fire covered with cinders. She went into the other room, and thought she
+would have time to lay the cloth at one end of the table. But she was
+obliged to put down the bottle of wine very quickly; she no longer had
+strength to reach the bed; she fell prostrate, and she had more pains
+on a mat on the floor. When the midwife arrived, a quarter of an hour
+later, she found mother and baby lying there on the floor.
+
+The zinc-worker was still employed at the hospital. Gervaise would not
+have him disturbed. When he came home at seven o'clock, he found her
+in bed, well covered up, looking very pale on the pillow, and the child
+crying, swathed in a shawl at its mother's feet.
+
+"Ah, my poor wife!" said Coupeau, kissing Gervaise. "And I was joking
+only an hour ago, whilst you were crying with pain! I say, you don't
+make much fuss about it--the time to sneeze and it's all over."
+
+She smiled faintly; then she murmured: "It's a girl."
+
+"Right!" the zinc-worker replied, joking so as to enliven her, "I
+ordered a girl! Well, now I've got what I wanted! You do everything I
+wish!" And, taking the child up in his arms, he continued: "Let's have a
+look at you, miss! You've got a very black little mug. It'll get whiter,
+never fear. You must be good, never run about the streets, and grow up
+sensible like your papa and mamma."
+
+Gervaise looked at her daughter very seriously, with wide open eyes,
+slowly overshadowed with sadness, for she would rather have had a boy.
+Boys can talk care of themselves and don't have to run such risks on the
+streets of Paris as girls do. The midwife took the infant from Coupeau.
+She forbade Gervaise to do any talking; it was bad enough there was so
+much noise around her.
+
+Then the zinc-worker said that he must tell the news to mother Coupeau
+and the Lorilleuxs, but he was dying with hunger, he must first of all
+have his dinner. It was a great worry to the invalid to see him have to
+wait on himself, run to the kitchen for the stew, eat it out of a soup
+plate, and not be able to find the bread. In spite of being told not to
+do so, she bewailed her condition, and fidgeted about in her bed. It was
+stupid of her not to have managed to set the cloth, the pains had laid
+her on her back like a blow from a bludgeon. Her poor old man would not
+think it kind of her to be nursing herself up there whilst he was
+dining so badly. At least were the potatoes cooked enough? She no longer
+remembered whether she had put salt in them.
+
+"Keep quiet!" cried the midwife.
+
+"Ah! if only you could stop her from wearing herself out!" said Coupeau
+with his mouth full. "If you were not here, I'd bet she'd get up to
+cut my bread. Keep on your back, you big goose! You mustn't move about,
+otherwise it'll be a fortnight before you'll be able to stand on your
+legs. Your stew's very good. Madame will eat some with me, won't you,
+Madame?"
+
+The midwife declined; but she was willing to accept a glass of wine,
+because it had upset her, said she to find the poor woman with the
+baby on the mat. Coupeau at length went off to tell the news to his
+relations. Half an hour later he returned with all of them, mother
+Coupeau, the Lorilleuxs, and Madame Lerat, whom he had met at the
+latter's.
+
+"I've brought you the whole gang!" cried Coupeau. "It can't be helped!
+They wanted to see you. Don't open your mouth, it's forbidden. They'll
+stop here and look at you without ceremony, you know. As for me, I'm
+going to make them some coffee, and of the right sort!"
+
+He disappeared into the kitchen. Mother Coupeau after kissing Gervaise,
+became amazed at the child's size. The two other women also kissed the
+invalid on her cheeks. And all three, standing before the bed, commented
+with divers exclamations on the details of the confinement--a most
+remarkable confinement, just like having a tooth pulled, nothing more.
+
+Madame Lerat examined the baby all over, declared she was well formed,
+even added that she could grow up into an attractive woman. Noticing
+that the head had been squeezed into a point on top, she kneaded it
+gently despite the infant's cries, trying to round it a bit. Madame
+Lorilleux grabbed the baby from her; that could be enough to give the
+poor little thing all sorts of vicious tendencies, meddling with it like
+that while her skull was still soft. She then tried to figure out who
+the baby resembled. This almost led to a quarrel. Lorilleux, peering
+over the women's shoulders, insisted that the little girl didn't look
+the least bit like Coupeau. Well, maybe a little around the nose,
+nothing more. She was her mother all over again, with big eyes like
+hers. Certainly there were no eyes like that in the Coupeau family.
+
+Coupeau, however, had failed to reappear. One could hear him in the
+kitchen struggling with the grate and the coffee-pot. Gervaise was
+worrying herself frightfully; it was not the proper thing for a man to
+make coffee; and she called and told him what to do, without listening
+to the midwife's energetic "hush!"
+
+"Here we are!" said Coupeau, entering with the coffee-pot in his hand.
+"Didn't I just have a bother with it! It all went wrong on purpose! Now
+we'll drink out of glasses, won't we? Because you know, the cups are
+still at the shop."
+
+They seated themselves around the table, and the zinc-worker insisted
+on pouring out the coffee himself. It smelt very strong, it was none
+of that weak stuff. When the midwife had sipped hers up, she went off;
+everything was going on nicely, she was not required. If the young woman
+did not pass a good night they were to send for her on the morrow. She
+was scarcely down the staircase, when Madame Lorilleux called her a
+glutton and a good-for-nothing. She put four lumps of sugar in her
+coffee, and charged fifteen francs for leaving you with your baby all
+by yourself. But Coupeau took her part; he would willingly fork out
+the fifteen francs. After all those sort of women spent their youth in
+studying, they were right to charge a good price.
+
+It was then Lorilleux who got into a quarrel with Madame Lerat by
+maintaining that, in order to have a son, the head of the bed should
+be turned to the north. She shrugged her shoulders at such nonsense,
+offering another formula which consisted in hiding under the mattress,
+without letting your wife know, a handful of fresh nettles picked in
+bright sunlight.
+
+The table had been pushed over close to the bed. Until ten o'clock
+Gervaise lay there, smiling although she was only half awake. She was
+becoming more and more weary, her head turned sideways on the pillow.
+She no longer had the energy to venture a remark or a gesture. It seemed
+to her that she was dead, a very sweet death, from the depths of which
+she was happy to observe the others still in the land of the living. The
+thin cries of her baby daughter rose above the hum of heavy voices that
+were discussing a recent murder on Rue du Bon Puits, at the other end of
+La Chapelle.
+
+Then, as the visitors were thinking of leaving, they spoke of the
+christening. The Lorilleux had promised to be godfather and godmother;
+they looked very glum over the matter. However, if they had not been
+asked to stand they would have felt rather peculiar. Coupeau did not see
+any need for christening the little one; it certainly would not procure
+her an income of ten thousand francs, and besides she might catch a
+cold from it. The less one had to do with priests the better. But mother
+Coupeau called him a heathen. The Lorilleux, without going and eating
+consecrated bread in church, plumed themselves on their religious
+sentiments.
+
+"It shall be next Sunday, if you like," said the chainmaker.
+
+And Gervaise having consented by a nod, everyone kissed her and told her
+to take good care of herself. They also wished the baby good-bye. Each
+one went and leant over the little trembling body with smiles and loving
+words as though she were able to understand. They called her Nana, the
+pet name for Anna, which was her godmother's name.
+
+"Good night, Nana. Come be a good girl, Nana."
+
+When they had at length gone off, Coupeau drew his chair close up to
+the bed and finished his pipe, holding Gervaise's hand in his. He smoked
+slowly, deeply affected and uttering sentences between the puffs.
+
+"Well, old woman, they've made your head ache, haven't they? You see I
+couldn't prevent them coming. After all, it shows their friendship. But
+we're better alone, aren't we? I wanted to be alone like this with you.
+It has seemed such a long evening to me! Poor little thing, she's had
+a lot to go through! Those shrimps, when they come out into the world,
+have no idea of the pain they cause. It must really almost be like being
+split in two. Where does it hurt the most, that I may kiss it and
+make it well?"
+
+He had carefully slid one of his big hands under her back, and now
+he drew her toward him, bending over to kiss her stomach through the
+covers, touched by a rough man's compassion for the suffering of a woman
+in childbirth. He inquired if he was hurting her. Gervaise felt very
+happy, and answered him that it didn't hurt any more at all. She was
+only worried about getting up as soon as possible, because there was
+no time to lie about now. He assured her that he'd be responsible for
+earning the money for the new little one. He would be a real bum if he
+abandoned her and the little rascal. The way he figured it, what really
+counted was bringing her up properly. Wasn't that so?
+
+Coupeau did not sleep much that night. He covered up the fire in
+the stove. Every hour he had to get up to give the baby spoonfuls of
+lukewarm sugar and water. That did not prevent his going off to his work
+in the morning as usual. He even took advantage of his lunch-hour to
+make a declaration of the birth at the mayor's. During this time Madame
+Boche, who had been informed of the event, had hastened to go and
+pass the day with Gervaise. But the latter, after ten hours of sleep,
+bewailed her position, saying that she already felt pains all over her
+through having been so long in bed. She would become quite ill if they
+did not let her get up. In the evening, when Coupeau returned home, she
+told him all her worries; no doubt she had confidence in Madame Boche,
+only it put her beside herself to see a stranger installed in her room,
+opening the drawers, and touching her things.
+
+On the morrow the concierge, on returning from some errand, found her
+up, dressed, sweeping and getting her husband's dinner ready; and it was
+impossible to persuade her to go to bed again. They were trying to make
+a fool of her perhaps! It was all very well for ladies to pretend to be
+unable to move. When one was not rich one had no time for that sort of
+thing. Three days after her confinement she was ironing petticoats at
+Madame Fauconnier's, banging her irons and all in a perspiration from
+the great heat of the stove.
+
+On the Saturday evening, Madame Lorilleux brought her presents for her
+godchild--a cup that cost thirty-five sous, and a christening dress,
+plaited and trimmed with some cheap lace, which she had got for six
+francs, because it was slightly soiled. On the morrow, Lorilleux, as
+godfather, gave the mother six pounds of sugar. They certainly did
+things properly! At the baptism supper which took place at the Coupeaus
+that evening, they did not come empty-handed. Lorilleux carried a bottle
+of fine wine under each arm and his wife brought a large custard pie
+from a famous pastry shop on Chaussee Clignancourt. But the Lorilleuxs
+made sure that the entire neighborhood knew they had spent twenty
+francs. As soon as Gervaise learned of their gossiping, furious, she
+stopped giving them credit for generosity.
+
+It was at the christening feast that the Coupeaus ended by becoming
+intimately acquainted with their neighbors on the opposite side of
+the landing. The other lodging in the little house was occupied by two
+persons, mother and son, the Goujets as they were called. Until then the
+two families had merely nodded to each other on the stairs and in the
+street, nothing more; the Coupeaus thought their neighbors seemed rather
+bearish. Then the mother, having carried up a pail of water for Gervaise
+on the morrow of her confinement, the latter had thought it the proper
+thing to invite them to the feast, more especially as she considered
+them very respectable people. And naturally, they there became well
+acquainted with each other.
+
+The Goujets came from the Departement du Nord. The mother mended lace;
+the son, a blacksmith, worked at an iron bolt factory. They had lived
+in their lodging for five years. Behind the quiet peacefulness of their
+life, a long standing sorrow was hidden. Goujet the father, one day when
+furiously drunk at Lille, had beaten a comrade to death with an iron bar
+and had afterwards strangled himself in prison with his handkerchief.
+The widow and child, who had come to Paris after their misfortune,
+always felt the tragedy hanging over their heads, and atoned for it by
+a strict honesty and an unvarying gentleness and courage. They had a
+certain amount of pride in their attitude and regarded themselves as
+better than other people.
+
+Madame Goujet, dressed in black as usual, her forehead framed in a nun's
+hood, had a pale, calm, matronly face, as if the whiteness of the lace
+and the delicate work of her fingers had cast a glow of serenity over
+her. Goujet was twenty-three years old, huge, magnificently built,
+with deep blue eyes and rosy cheeks, and the strength of Hercules. His
+comrades at the shop called him "Golden Mouth" because of his handsome
+blonde beard.
+
+Gervaise at once felt a great friendship for these people. When she
+entered their home for the first time, she was amazed at the cleanliness
+of the lodging. There was no denying it, one might blow about the
+place without raising a grain of dust; and the tiled floor shone like a
+mirror. Madame Goujet made her enter her son's room, just to see it.
+It was pretty and white like the room of a young girl; an iron bedstead
+with muslin curtains, a table, a washstand, and a narrow bookcase
+hanging against the wall. Then there were pictures all over the place,
+figures cut out, colored engravings nailed up with four tacks, and
+portraits of all kinds of persons taken from the illustrated papers.
+
+Madame Goujet said with a smile that her son was a big baby. He found
+that reading in the evening put him to sleep, so he amused himself
+looking at pictures. Gervaise spent an hour with her neighbor without
+noticing the passing of time. Madame Goujet had gone to sit by the
+window and work on her lace. Gervaise was fascinated by the hundreds of
+pins that held the lace, and she felt happy to be there, breathing
+in the good clean atmosphere of this home where such a delicate task
+enforced a sort of meditative silence.
+
+The Goujets were worth visiting. They worked long hours, and placed more
+than a quarter of their fortnight's earnings in the savings-bank. In the
+neighborhood everyone nodded to them, everyone talked of their savings.
+Goujet never had a hole in his clothes, always went out in a clean short
+blue blouse, without a stain. He was very polite, and even a trifle
+timid, in spite of his broad shoulders. The washerwomen at the end of
+the street laughed to see him hold down his head when he passed them. He
+did not like their oaths, and thought it disgusting that women should
+be constantly uttering foul words. One day, however, he came home tipsy.
+Then Madame Goujet, for sole reproach, held his father's portrait before
+him, a daub of a painting hidden away at the bottom of a drawer; and,
+ever since that lesson, Goujet never drank more than was good for
+him, without however, any hatred of wine, for wine is necessary to the
+workman. On Sundays he walked out with his mother, who took hold of his
+arm. He would generally conduct her to Vincennes; at other times they
+would go to the theatre. His mother remained his passion. He still
+spoke to her as though he were a little child. Square-headed, his skin
+toughened by the wielding of the heavy hammer, he somewhat resembled the
+larger animals: dull of intellect, though good-natured all the same.
+
+In the early days of their acquaintance, Gervaise embarrassed him
+immensely. Then in a few weeks he became accustomed to her. He watched
+for her that he might carry up her parcels, treated her as a sister,
+with an abrupt familiarity, and cut out pictures for her. One morning,
+however, having opened her door without knocking, he beheld her half
+undressed, washing her neck; and, for a week, he did not dare to look
+her in the face, so much so that he ended by making her blush herself.
+
+Young Cassis, with the casual wit of a born Parisian, called Golden
+Mouth a dolt. It was all right not to get drunk all the time or chase
+women, but still, a man must be a man, or else he might as well wear
+skirts. Coupeau teased him in front of Gervaise, accusing him of making
+up to all the women in the neighborhood. Goujet vigorously defended
+himself against the charge.
+
+But this didn't prevent the two workingmen from becoming best of
+friends. They went off to work together in the mornings and sometimes
+had a glass of beer together on the way home.
+
+It eventually came about that Golden Mouth could render a service to
+Young Cassis, one of those favors that is remembered forever.
+
+It was the second of December. The zinc-worker decided, just for the fun
+of it, to go into the city and watch the rioting. He didn't really care
+about the Republic, or Napoleon or anything like that, but he liked the
+smell of gunpowder and the sound of the rifles firing. He would have
+been arrested as a rioter if the blacksmith hadn't turned up at the
+barricade at just that moment and helped him escape. Goujet was very
+serious as they walked back up the Rue du Faubourg Poissonniere. He was
+interested in politics and believed in the Republic. But he had never
+fired a gun because the common people were getting tired of fighting
+battles for the middle classes who always seemed to get the benefit of
+them.
+
+As they reached the top of the slope of the Rue du Faubourg
+Poissonniere, Goujet turned to look back at Paris and the mobs. After
+all, some day people would be sorry that they just stood by and did
+nothing. Coupeau laughed at this, saying you would be pretty stupid to
+risk your neck just to preserve the twenty-five francs a day for the
+lazybones in the Legislative Assembly. That evening the Coupeaus invited
+the Goujets to dinner. After desert Young Cassis and Golden Mouth kissed
+each other on the cheek. Their lives were joined till death.
+
+For three years the existence of the two families went on, on either
+side of the landing, without an event. Gervaise was able to take care
+of her daughter and still work most of the week. She was now a skilled
+worker on fine laundry and earned up to three francs a day. She decided
+to put Etienne, now nearly eight, into a small boarding-school on Rue
+de Chartres for five francs a week. Despite the expenses for the two
+children, they were able to save twenty or thirty francs each month.
+Once they had six hundred francs saved, Gervaise often lay awake
+thinking of her ambitious dream: she wanted to rent a small shop,
+hire workers, and go into the laundry business herself. If this effort
+worked, they would have a steady income from savings in twenty years.
+They could retire and live in the country.
+
+Yet she hesitated, saying she was looking for the right shop. She was
+giving herself time to think it over. Their savings were safe in
+the bank, and growing larger. So, in three years' time she had only
+fulfilled one of her dreams--she had bought a clock. But even this
+clock, made of rosewood with twined columns and a pendulum of gilded
+brass, was being paid for in installments of twenty-two sous each Monday
+for a year. She got upset if Coupeau tried to wind it; she liked to be
+the only one to lift off the glass dome. It was under the glass dome,
+behind the clock, that she hid her bank book. Sometimes, when she was
+dreaming of her shop, she would stare fixedly at the clock, lost in
+thought.
+
+The Coupeaus went out nearly every Sunday with the Goujets. They
+were pleasant little excursions, sometimes to have some fried fish
+at Saint-Ouen, at others a rabbit at Vincennes, in the garden of some
+eating-house keeper without any grand display. The men drank sufficient
+to quench their thirst, and returned home as right as nine-pins, giving
+their arms to the ladies. In the evening before going to bed, the two
+families made up accounts and each paid half the expenses; and there was
+never the least quarrel about a sou more or less.
+
+The Lorilleuxs became jealous of the Goujets. It seemed strange to
+them to see Young Cassis and Clump-clump going places all the time with
+strangers instead of their own relations. But, that's the way it was;
+some folks didn't care a bit about their family. Now that they had saved
+a few sous, they thought they were really somebody. Madame Lorilleux
+was much annoyed to see her brother getting away from her influence and
+begin to continually run down Gervaise to everyone. On the other hand,
+Madame Lerat took the young wife's side. Mother Coupeau tried to get
+along with everybody. She only wanted to be welcomed by all three of her
+children. Now that her eyesight was getting dimmer and dimmer she only
+had one regular house cleaning job but she was able to pick up some
+small jobs now and again.
+
+On the day on which Nana was three years old, Coupeau, on returning home
+in the evening, found Gervaise quite upset. She refused to talk about
+it; there was nothing at all the matter with her, she said. But, as she
+had the table all wrong, standing still with the plates in her hands,
+absorbed in deep reflection, her husband insisted upon knowing what was
+the matter.
+
+"Well, it is this," she ended by saying, "the little draper's shop in
+the Rue de la Goutte-d'Or, is to let. I saw it only an hour ago, when
+going to buy some cotton. It gave me quite a turn."
+
+It was a very decent shop, and in that big house where they dreamed of
+living in former days. There was the shop, a back room, and two other
+rooms to the right and left; in short, just what they required. The
+rooms were rather small, but well placed. Only, she considered they
+wanted too much; the landlord talked of five hundred francs.
+
+"So you've been over the place, and asked the price?" said Coupeau.
+
+"Oh! you know, only out of curiosity!" replied she, affecting an air
+of indifference. "One looks about, and goes in wherever there's a bill
+up--that doesn't bind one to anything. But that shop is altogether too
+dear. Besides, it would perhaps be foolish of me to set up in business."
+
+However, after dinner, she again referred to the draper's shop. She drew
+a plan of the place on the margin of a newspaper. And, little by little,
+she talked it over, measuring the corners, and arranging the rooms, as
+though she were going to move all her furniture in there on the morrow.
+Then Coupeau advised her to take it, seeing how she wanted to do so; she
+would certainly never find anything decent under five hundred francs;
+besides they might perhaps get a reduction. He knew only one objection
+to it and that was living in the same house as the Lorilleux, whom she
+could not bear.
+
+Gervaise declared that she wasn't mad at anybody. So much did she want
+her own shop that she even spoke up for the Lorilleuxs, saying that they
+weren't mean at heart and that she would be able to get along just fine
+with them. When they went to bed, Coupeau fell asleep immediately, but
+she stayed awake, planning how she could arrange the new place even
+though she hadn't yet made up her mind completely.
+
+On the morrow, when she was alone, she could not resist removing the
+glass cover from the clock, and taking a peep at the savings-bank book.
+To think that her shop was there, in those dirty pages, covered with
+ugly writing! Before going off to her work, she consulted Madame Goujet,
+who highly approved her project of setting up in business for herself;
+with a husband like hers, a good fellow who did not drink, she was
+certain of getting on, and of not having her earnings squandered. At
+the luncheon hour Gervaise even called on the Lorilleuxs to ask their
+advice; she did not wish to appear to be doing anything unknown to the
+family. Madame Lorilleux was struck all of a heap. What! Clump-clump
+was going in for a shop now! And her heart bursting with envy, she
+stammered, and tried to pretend to be pleased: no doubt the shop was a
+convenient one--Gervaise was right in taking it. However, when she had
+somewhat recovered, she and her husband talked of the dampness of the
+courtyard, of the poor light of the rooms on the ground floor. Oh! it
+was a good place for rheumatism. Yet, if she had made up her mind to
+take it, their observations, of course, would not make her alter her
+decision.
+
+That evening Gervaise frankly owned with a laugh that she would have
+fallen ill if she had been prevented from having the shop. Nevertheless,
+before saying "it's done!" she wished to take Coupeau to see the place,
+and try and obtain a reduction in the rent.
+
+"Very well, then, to-morrow, if you like," said her husband. "You can
+come and fetch me towards six o'clock at the house where I'm working, in
+the Rue de la Nation, and we'll call in at the Rue de la Goutte-d'Or on
+our way home."
+
+Coupeau was then finishing the roofing of a new three-storied house. It
+so happened that on that day he was to fix the last sheets of zinc. As
+the roof was almost flat, he had set up his bench on it, a wide shutter
+supported on two trestles. A beautiful May sun was setting, giving a
+golden hue to the chimney-pots. And, right up at the top, against the
+clear sky, the workman was quietly cutting up his zinc with a big pair
+of shears, leaning over the bench, and looking like a tailor in his shop
+cutting out a pair of trousers. Close to the wall of the next house, his
+boy, a youngster of seventeen, thin and fair, was keeping the fire of
+the chafing dish blazing by the aid of an enormous pair of bellows, each
+puff of which raised a cloud of sparks.
+
+"Hi! Zidore, put in the irons!" cried Coupeau.
+
+The boy stuck the soldering irons into the midst of the charcoal, which
+looked a pale rose color in the daylight. Then he resumed blowing.
+Coupeau held the last sheet of zinc. It had to be placed at the edge of
+the roof, close to the gutter-pipe; there was an abrupt slant there, and
+the gaping void of the street opened beneath. The zinc-worker, just as
+though in his own home, wearing his list-shoes, advanced, dragging his
+feet, and whistling the air, "Oh! the little lambs." Arrived in front of
+the opening, he let himself down, and then, supporting himself with one
+knee against the masonry of a chimney-stack, remained half-way out over
+the pavement below. One of his legs dangled. When he leant back to call
+that young viper, Zidore, he held on to a corner of the masonry, on
+account of the street beneath him.
+
+"You confounded dawdler! Give me the irons! It's no use looking up
+in the air, you skinny beggar! The larks won't tumble into your mouth
+already cooked!"
+
+But Zidore did not hurry himself. He was interested in the neighboring
+roofs, and in a cloud of smoke which rose from the other side of Paris,
+close to Grenelle; it was very likely a fire. However, he came and laid
+down on his stomach, his head over the opening, and he passed the irons
+to Coupeau. Then the latter commenced to solder the sheet. He squatted,
+he stretched, always managing to balance himself, sometimes seated on
+one side, at other times standing on the tip of one foot, often only
+holding on by a finger. He had a confounded assurance, the devil's own
+cheek, familiar with danger, and braving it. It knew him. It was the
+street that was afraid, not he. As he kept his pipe in his mouth, he
+turned round every now and then to spit onto the pavement.
+
+"Look, there's Madame Boche," he suddenly exclaimed and called down to
+her. "Hi! Madame Boche."
+
+He had just caught sight of the concierge crossing the road. She raised
+her head and recognised him, and a conversation ensued between them.
+She hid her hands under her apron, her nose elevated in the air. He,
+standing up now, his left arm passed round a chimney-pot, leant over.
+
+"Have you seen my wife?" asked he.
+
+"No, I haven't," replied the concierge. "Is she around here?"
+
+"She's coming to fetch me. And are they all well at home?"
+
+"Why, yes, thanks; I'm the most ill, as you see. I'm going to the
+Chaussee Clignancourt to buy a small leg of mutton. The butcher near the
+Moulin-Rouge only charges sixteen sous."
+
+They raised their voices, because a vehicle was passing. In the wide,
+deserted Rue de la Nation, their words, shouted out with all their
+might, had only caused a little old woman to come to her window; and
+this little old woman remained there leaning out, giving herself the
+treat of a grand emotion by watching that man on the roof over the way,
+as though she expected to see him fall, from one minute to another.
+
+"Well! Good evening," cried Madame Boche. "I won't disturb you."
+
+Coupeau turned round, and took back the iron that Zidore was holding
+for him. But just as the concierge was moving off, she caught sight of
+Gervaise on the other side of the way, holding Nana by the hand. She was
+already raising her head to tell the zinc-worker, when the young woman
+closed her mouth by an energetic gesture, and, in a low voice, so as
+not to be heard up there, she told her of her fear: she was afraid, by
+showing herself suddenly, of giving her husband a shock which might make
+him lose his balance. During the four years, she had only been once
+to fetch him at his work. That day was the second time. She could not
+witness it, her blood turned cold when she beheld her old man between
+heaven and earth, in places where even the sparrows would not venture.
+
+"No doubt, it's not pleasant," murmured Madame Boche. "My husband's a
+tailor, so I have none of these terrors."
+
+"If you only knew, in the early days," said Gervaise again, "I had
+frights from morning till night. I was always seeing him on a stretcher,
+with his head smashed. Now, I don't think of it so much. One gets used
+to everything. Bread must be earned. All the same, it's a precious dear
+loaf, for one risks one's bones more than is fair."
+
+And she left off speaking, hiding Nana in her skirt, fearing a cry from
+the little one. Very pale, she looked up in spite of herself. At that
+moment Coupeau was soldering the extreme edge of the sheet close to the
+gutter; he slid down as far as possible, but without being able to reach
+the edge. Then, he risked himself with those slow movements peculiar to
+workmen. For an instant he was immediately over the pavement, no long
+holding on, all absorbed in his work; and, from below, one could see
+the little white flame of the solder frizzling up beneath the carefully
+wielded iron. Gervaise, speechless, her throat contracted with anguish,
+had clasped her hands together, and held them up in mechanical gesture
+of prayer. But she breathed freely as Coupeau got up and returned back
+along the roof, without hurrying himself, and taking the time to spit
+once more into the street.
+
+"Ah! ah! so you've been playing the spy on me!" cried he, gaily, on
+beholding her. "She's been making a stupid of herself, eh, Madame
+Boche? She wouldn't call to me. Wait a bit, I shall have finished in ten
+minutes."
+
+All that remained to do was to fix the top of the chimney--a mere
+nothing. The laundress and the concierge waited on the pavement,
+discussing the neighborhood, and giving an eye to Nana, to prevent her
+from dabbling in the gutter, where she wanted to look for little fishes;
+and the two women kept glancing up at the roof, smiling and nodding
+their heads, as though to imply that they were not losing patience. The
+old woman opposite had not left her window, had continued watching the
+man, and waiting.
+
+"Whatever can she have to look at, that old she-goat?" said Madame
+Boche. "What a mug she has!"
+
+One could hear the loud voice of the zinc-worker up above singing, "Ah!
+it's nice to gather strawberries!" Bending over his bench, he was now
+artistically cutting out his zinc. With his compasses he traced a line,
+and he detached a large fan-shaped piece with the aid of a pair of
+curved shears; then he lightly bent this fan with his hammer into the
+form of a pointed mushroom. Zidore was again blowing the charcoal in the
+chafing-dish. The sun was setting behind the house in a brilliant rosy
+light, which was gradually becoming paler, and turning to a delicate
+lilac. And, at this quiet hour of the day, right up against the sky,
+the silhouettes of the two workmen, looking inordinately large, with the
+dark line of the bench, and the strange profile of the bellows, stood
+out from the limpid back-ground of the atmosphere.
+
+When the chimney-top was got into shape, Coupeau called out: "Zidore!
+The irons!"
+
+But Zidore had disappeared. The zinc-worker swore, and looked about for
+him, even calling him through the open skylight of the loft. At length
+he discovered him on a neighboring roof, two houses off. The young rogue
+was taking a walk, exploring the environs, his fair scanty locks blowing
+in the breeze, his eyes blinking as they beheld the immensity of Paris.
+
+"I say, lazy bones! Do you think you're having a day in the country?"
+asked Coupeau, in a rage. "You're like Monsieur Beranger, composing
+verses, perhaps! Will you give me those irons! Did any one ever see
+such a thing! Strolling about on the house-tops! Why not bring your
+sweetheart at once, and tell her of your love? Will you give me those
+irons? You confounded little shirker!"
+
+He finished his soldering, and called to Gervaise: "There, it's done.
+I'm coming down."
+
+The chimney-pot to which he had to fix the flue was in the middle of
+the roof. Gervaise, who was no longer uneasy, continued to smile as she
+followed his movements. Nana, amused all on a sudden by the view of her
+father, clapped her little hands. She had seated herself on the pavement
+to see the better up there.
+
+"Papa! Papa!" called she with all her might. "Papa! Just look!"
+
+The zinc-worker wished to lean forward, but his foot slipped. Then
+suddenly, stupidly, like a cat with its legs entangled, he rolled and
+descended the slight slope of the roof without being able to grab hold
+of anything.
+
+"_Mon Dieu_," he cried in a choked voice.
+
+And he fell. His body described a gentle curve, turned twice over on
+itself, and came smashing into the middle of the street with the dull
+thud of a bundle of clothes thrown from on high.
+
+Gervaise, stupefied, her throat rent by one great cry, stood holding
+up her arms. Some passers-by hastened to the spot; a crowd soon formed.
+Madame Boche, utterly upset, her knees bending under her, took Nana in
+her arms, to hide her head and prevent her seeing. Meanwhile, the little
+old woman opposite quietly closed her window, as though satisfied.
+
+Four men ended by carrying Coupeau into a chemist's, at the corner of
+the Rue des Poissonniers; and he remained there on a blanket, in the
+middle of the shop, whilst they sent to the Lariboisiere Hospital for a
+stretcher. He was still breathing.
+
+Gervaise, sobbing, was kneeling on the floor beside him, her face
+smudged with tears, stunned and unseeing. Her hands would reach to feel
+her husband's limbs with the utmost gentleness. Then she would draw back
+as she had been warned not to touch him. But a few seconds later she
+would touch him to assure herself that he was still warm, feeling
+somehow that she was helping him.
+
+When the stretcher at length arrived, and they talked of starting for
+the hospital, she got up, saying violently:
+
+"No, no, not to the hospital! We live in the Rue Neuve de la
+Goutte-d'Or."
+
+It was useless for them to explain to her that the illness would cost
+her a great deal of money, if she took her husband home. She obstinately
+repeated:
+
+"Rue Neuve de la Goutte-d'Or; I will show you the house. What can it
+matter to you? I've got money. He's my husband, isn't he? He's mine, and
+I want him at home."
+
+And they had to take Coupeau to his own home. When the stretcher was
+carried through the crowd which was crushing up against the chemist's
+shop, the women of the neighborhood were excitedly talking of Gervaise.
+She limped, the dolt, but all the same she had some pluck. She would
+be sure to save her old man; whilst at the hospital the doctors let the
+patients die who were very bad, so as not to have the bother of trying
+to cure them. Madame Boche, after taking Nana home with her, returned,
+and gave her account of the accident, with interminable details, and
+still feeling agitated with the emotion she had passed through.
+
+"I was going to buy a leg of mutton; I was there, I saw him fall,"
+repeated she. "It was all through the little one; he turned to look at
+her, and bang! Ah! good heavens! I never want to see such a sight again.
+However, I must be off to get my leg of mutton."
+
+For a week Coupeau was very bad. The family, the neighbors, everyone,
+expected to see him turn for the worse at any moment. The doctor--a very
+expensive doctor, who charged five francs for each visit--apprehended
+internal injuries, and these words filled everyone with fear. It was
+said in the neighborhood that the zinc-worker's heart had been injured
+by the shock. Gervaise alone, looking pale through her nights of
+watching, serious and resolute, shrugged her shoulders. Her old man's
+right leg was broken, everyone knew that; it would be set for him, and
+that was all. As for the rest, the injured heart, that was nothing.
+She knew how to restore a heart with ceaseless care. She was certain of
+getting him well and displayed magnificent faith. She stayed close by
+him and caressed him gently during the long bouts of fever without a
+moment of doubt. She was on her feet continuously for a whole week,
+completely absorbed by her determination to save him. She forgot the
+street outside, the entire city, and even her own children. On the ninth
+day, the doctor finally said that Coupeau would live. Gervaise collapsed
+into a chair, her body limp from fatigue. That night she consented to
+sleep for two hours with her head against the foot of the bed.
+
+Coupeau's accident had created quite a commotion in the family. Mother
+Coupeau passed the nights with Gervaise; but as early as nine o'clock
+she fell asleep on a chair. Every evening, on returning from work,
+Madame Lerat went a long round out of her way to inquire how her brother
+was getting on. At first the Lorilleuxs had called two or three times a
+day, offering to sit up and watch, and even bringing an easy-chair for
+Gervaise. Then it was not long before there were disputes as to the
+proper way to nurse invalids. Madame Lorilleux said that she had saved
+enough people's lives to know how to go about it. She accused the young
+wife of pushing her aside, of driving her away from her own brother's
+bed. Certainly that Clump-clump ought to be concerned about Coupeau's
+getting well, for if she hadn't gone to Rue de la Nation to disturb him
+at his job, he would never had fallen. Only, the way she was taking care
+of him, she would certainly finish him.
+
+When Gervaise saw that Coupeau was out of danger, she ceased guarding
+his bedside with so much jealous fierceness. Now, they could no longer
+kill him, and she let people approach without mistrust. The family
+invaded the room. The convalescence would be a very long one; the doctor
+had talked of four months. Then, during the long hours the zinc-worker
+slept, the Lorilleux talked of Gervaise as of a fool. She hadn't done
+any good by having her husband at home. At the hospital they would have
+cured him twice as quickly. Lorilleux would have liked to have been ill,
+to have caught no matter what, just to show her that he did not hesitate
+for a moment to go to Lariboisiere. Madame Lorilleux knew a lady who
+had just come from there. Well! She had had chicken to eat morning and
+night.
+
+Again and again the two of them went over their estimate of how much
+four months of convalescence would cost; workdays lost, the doctor and
+the medicines, and afterward good wine and fresh meat. If the Coupeaus
+only used up their small savings, they would be very lucky indeed. They
+would probably have to go into debt. Well, that was to be expected and
+it was their business. They had no right to expect any help from the
+family, which couldn't afford the luxury of keeping an invalid at home.
+It was just Clump-clump's bad luck, wasn't it? Why couldn't she have
+done as others did and let her man be taken to hospital? This just
+showed how stuck up she was.
+
+One evening Madame Lorilleux had the spitefulness to ask Gervaise
+suddenly:
+
+"Well! And your shop, when are you going to take it?"
+
+"Yes," chuckled Lorilleux, "the landlord's still waiting for you."
+
+Gervaise was astonished. She had completely forgotten the shop; but she
+saw the wicked joy of those people, at the thought that she would no
+longer be able to take it, and she was bursting with anger. From that
+evening, in fact, they watched for every opportunity to twit her about
+her hopeless dream. When any one spoke of some impossible wish, they
+would say that it might be realized on the day that Gervaise started in
+business, in a beautiful shop opening onto the street. And behind her
+back they would laugh fit to split their sides. She did not like to
+think such an unkind thing, but, really, the Lorilleuxs now seemed to be
+very pleased at Coupeau's accident, as it prevented her setting up as a
+laundress in the Rue de la Goutte-d'Or.
+
+Then she also wished to laugh, and show them how willingly she parted
+with the money for the sake of curing her husband. Each time she took
+the savings-bank book from beneath the glass clock-tower in their
+presence, she would say gaily:
+
+"I'm going out; I'm going to rent my shop."
+
+She had not been willing to withdraw the money all at once. She took it
+out a hundred francs at a time, so as not to keep such a pile of gold
+and silver in her drawer; then, too, she vaguely hoped for some miracle,
+some sudden recovery, which would enable them not to part with the
+entire sum. At each journey to the savings-bank, on her return home, she
+added up on a piece of paper the money they had still left there. It
+was merely for the sake of order. Their bank account might be getting
+smaller all the time, yet she went on with her quiet smile and
+common-sense attitude, keeping the account straight. It was a
+consolation to be able to use this money for such a good purpose, to
+have had it when faced with their misfortune.
+
+While Coupeau was bed-ridden the Goujets were very kind to Gervaise.
+Madame Goujet was always ready to assist. She never went to shop without
+stopping to ask Gervaise if there was anything she needed, sugar or
+butter or salt. She always brought over hot bouillon on the evenings she
+cooked _pot au feu_. Sometimes, when Gervaise seemed to have too much
+to do, Madame Goujet helped her do the dishes, or cleaned the kitchen
+herself. Goujet took her water pails every morning and filled them
+at the tap on Rue des Poissonniers, saving her two sous a day. After
+dinner, if no family came to visit, the Goujets would come over to visit
+with the Coupeaus.
+
+Until ten o'clock, the blacksmith would smoke his pipe and watch
+Gervaise busy with her invalid. He would not speak ten words the entire
+evening. He was moved to pity by the sight of her pouring Coupeau's tea
+and medicine into a cup, or stirring the sugar in it very carefully so
+as to make no sound with the spoon. It stirred him deeply when she would
+lean over Coupeau and speak in her soft voice. Never before had he known
+such a fine woman. Her limp increased the credit due her for wearing
+herself out doing things for her husband all day long. She never sat
+down for ten minutes, not even to eat. She was always running to the
+chemist's. And then she would still keep the house clean, not even a
+speck of dust. She never complained, no matter how exhausted she became.
+Goujet developed a very deep affection for Gervaise in this atmosphere
+of unselfish devotion.
+
+One day he said to the invalid, "Well, old man, now you're patched up
+again! I wasn't worried about you. Your wife works miracles."
+
+Goujet was supposed to be getting married. His mother had found a
+suitable girl, a lace-mender like herself, whom she was urging him to
+marry. He had agreed so as not to hurt her feelings and the wedding had
+been set for early September. Money had long since been saved to set
+them up in housekeeping. However, when Gervaise referred to his coming
+marriage, he shook his head, saying, "Not every woman is like you,
+Madame Coupeau. If all women were like you, I'd marry ten of them."
+
+At the end of two months, Coupeau was able to get up. He did not go far,
+only from the bed to the window, and even then Gervaise had to support
+him. There he would sit down in the easy-chair the Lorilleuxs had
+brought, with his right leg stretched out on a stool. This joker,
+who used to laugh at the people who slipped down on frosty days, felt
+greatly put out by his accident. He had no philosophy. He had spent
+those two months in bed, in cursing, and in worrying the people about
+him. It was not an existence, really, to pass one's life on one's back,
+with a pin all tied up and as stiff as a sausage. Ah, he certainly knew
+the ceiling by heart; there was a crack, at the corner of the alcove,
+that he could have drawn with his eyes shut. Then, when he was made
+comfortable in the easy-chair, it was another grievance. Would he be
+fixed there for long, just like a mummy?
+
+Nobody ever passed along the street, so it was no fun to watch. Besides,
+it stank of bleach water all day. No, he was just growing old; he'd have
+given ten years of his life just to go see how the fortifications were
+getting along. He kept going on about his fate. It wasn't right, what
+had happened to him. A good worker like him, not a loafer or a drunkard,
+he could have understood in that case.
+
+"Papa Coupeau," said he, "broke his neck one day that he'd been boozing.
+I can't say that it was deserved, but anyhow it was explainable. I had
+had nothing since my lunch, was perfectly quiet, and without a drop of
+liquor in my body; and yet I came to grief just because I wanted to turn
+round to smile at Nana! Don't you think that's too much? If there is a
+providence, it certainly arranges things in a very peculiar manner. I,
+for one, shall never believe in it."
+
+And when at last he was able to use his legs, he retained a secret
+grudge against work. It was a handicraft full of misfortunes to pass
+one's days, like the cats, on the roofs of the houses. The employers
+were no fools! They sent you to your death--being far too cowardly to
+venture themselves on a ladder--and stopped at home in safety at their
+fire-sides without caring a hang for the poorer classes; and he got to
+the point of saying that everyone ought to fix the zinc himself on his
+own house. _Mon Dieu_! It was the only fair way to do it! If you don't
+want the rain to come in, do the work yourself. He regretted he
+hadn't learned another trade, something more pleasant, something less
+dangerous, maybe cabinetmaking. It was really his father's fault. Lots
+of fathers have the foolish habit of shoving their sons into their own
+line of work.
+
+For another two months Coupeau hobbled about on crutches. He had first
+of all managed to get as far as the street, and smoke his pipe in
+front of the door. Then he had managed to reach the exterior Boulevard,
+dragging himself along in the sunshine, and remaining for hours on one
+of the seats. Gaiety returned to him; his infernal tongue got sharper in
+these long hours of idleness. And with the pleasure of living, he gained
+there a delight in doing nothing, an indolent feeling took possession of
+his limbs, and his muscles gradually glided into a very sweet slumber.
+It was the slow victory of laziness, which took advantage of his
+convalescence to obtain possession of his body and unnerve him with
+its tickling. He regained his health, as thorough a banterer as before,
+thinking life beautiful, and not seeing why it should not last for ever.
+
+As soon as he could get about without the crutches, he made longer
+walks, often visiting construction jobs to see old comrades. He would
+stand with his arms folded, sneering and shaking his head, ridiculing
+the workers slaving at the job, stretching out his leg to show them what
+you got for wearing yourself out. Being able to stand about and mock
+others while they were working satisfied his spite against hard work.
+No doubt he'd have to go back to it, but he'd put it off as long as
+possible. He had a reason now to be lazy. Besides, it seemed good to him
+to loaf around like a bum!
+
+On the afternoons when Coupeau felt dull, he would call on the
+Lorilleuxs. The latter would pity him immensely, and attract him with
+all sorts of amiable attentions. During the first years following his
+marriage, he had avoided them, thanks to Gervaise's influence. Now they
+regained their sway over him by twitting him about being afraid of his
+wife. He was no man, that was evident! The Lorilleuxs, however, showed
+great discretion, and were loud in their praise of the laundress's good
+qualities. Coupeau, without as yet coming to wrangling, swore to the
+latter that his sister adored her, and requested that she would behave
+more amiably to her. The first quarrel which the couple had occurred one
+evening on account of Etienne. The zinc-worker had passed the afternoon
+with the Lorilleuxs. On arriving home, as the dinner was not quite
+ready, and the children were whining for their soup, he suddenly turned
+upon Etienne, and boxed his ears soundly. And during an hour he did not
+cease to grumble; the brat was not his; he did not know why he allowed
+him to be in the place; he would end by turning him out into the street.
+Up till then he had tolerated the youngster without all that fuss. On
+the morrow he talked of his dignity. Three days after, he kept kicking
+the little fellow, morning and evening, so much so that the child,
+whenever he heard him coming, bolted into the Goujets' where the old
+lace-mender kept a corner of the table clear for him to do his lessons.
+
+Gervaise had for some time past, returned to work. She no longer had the
+trouble of looking under the glass cover of the clock; all the savings
+were gone; and she had to work hard, work for four, for there were
+four to feed now. She alone maintained them. Whenever she heard people
+pitying her, she at once found excuses for Coupeau. Recollect! He had
+suffered so much; it was not surprising if his disposition had soured!
+But it would pass off when his health returned. And if any one hinted
+that Coupeau seemed all right again, that he could very well return to
+work, she protested: No, no; not yet! She did not want to see him take
+to his bed again. They would allow her to know best what the doctor
+said, perhaps! It was she who prevented him returning to work, telling
+him every morning to take his time and not to force himself. She even
+slipped twenty sou pieces into his waistcoat pocket. Coupeau accepted
+this as something perfectly natural. He was always complaining of aches
+and pains so that she would coddle him. At the end of six months he was
+still convalescing.
+
+Now, whenever he went to watch others working, he was always ready to
+join his comrades in downing a shot. It wasn't so bad, after all.
+They had their fun, and they never stayed more than five minutes. That
+couldn't hurt anybody. Only a hypocrite would say he went in because he
+wanted a drink. No wonder they had laughed at him in the past. A glass
+of wine never hurt anybody. He only drank wine though, never brandy.
+Wine never made you sick, didn't get you drunk, and helped you to live
+longer. Soon though, several times, after a day of idleness in going
+from one building job to another, he came home half drunk. On those
+occasions Gervaise pretended to have a terrible headache and kept
+their door closed so that the Goujets wouldn't hear Coupeau's drunken
+babblings.
+
+Little by little, the young woman lost her cheerfulness. Morning and
+evening she went to the Rue de la Goutte-d'Or to look at the shop,
+which was still to be let; and she would hide herself as though she were
+committing some childish prank unworthy of a grown-up person. This shop
+was beginning to turn her brain. At night-time, when the light was out
+she experienced the charm of some forbidden pleasure by thinking of it
+with her eyes open. She again made her calculations; two hundred and
+fifty francs for the rent, one hundred and fifty francs for utensils
+and moving, one hundred francs in hand to keep them going for a
+fortnight--in all five hundred francs at the very lowest figure. If she
+was not continually thinking of it aloud, it was for fear she should be
+suspected of regretting the savings swallowed up by Coupeau's illness.
+She often became quite pale, having almost allowed her desire to escape
+her and catching back her words, quite confused as though she had been
+thinking of something wicked. Now they would have to work for four or
+five years before they would succeed in saving such a sum. Her regret
+was at not being able to start in business at once; she would have
+earned all the home required, without counting on Coupeau, letting him
+take months to get into the way of work again; she would no longer have
+been uneasy, but certain of the future and free from the secret fears
+which sometimes seized her when he returned home very gay and singing,
+and relating some joke of that animal My-Boots, whom he had treated to a
+drink.
+
+One evening, Gervaise being at home alone, Goujet entered, and did not
+hurry off again, according to his habit. He seated himself, and smoked
+as he watched her. He probably had something very serious to say; he
+thought it over, let it ripen without being able to put it into suitable
+words. At length, after a long silence, he appeared to make up his mind,
+and took his pipe out of his mouth to say all in a breath:
+
+"Madame Gervaise, will you allow me to lend you some money?"
+
+She was leaning over an open drawer, looking for some dish-cloths. She
+got up, her face very red. He must have seen her then, in the morning,
+standing in ecstacy before the shop for close upon ten minutes. He was
+smiling in an embarrassed way, as though he had made some insulting
+proposal. But she hastily refused. Never would she accept money from any
+one without knowing when she would be able to return it. Then also
+it was a question of too large an amount. And as he insisted, in a
+frightened manner, she ended by exclaiming:
+
+"But your marriage? I certainly can't take the money you've been saving
+for your marriage!"
+
+"Oh, don't let that bother you," he replied, turning red in his turn.
+"I'm not going to be married now. That was just an idea, you know.
+Really, I would much sooner lend you the money."
+
+Then they both held down their heads. There was something very pleasant
+between them to which they did not give expression. And Gervaise
+accepted. Goujet had told his mother. They crossed the landing, and went
+to see her at once. The lace-mender was very grave, and looked rather
+sad as she bent her face over her tambour-frame. She would not thwart
+her son, but she no longer approved Gervaise's project; and she plainly
+told her why. Coupeau was going to the bad; Coupeau would swallow up
+her shop. She especially could not forgive the zinc-worker for having
+refused to learn to read during his convalescence. The blacksmith had
+offered to teach him, but the other had sent him to the right about,
+saying that learning made people get thin. This had almost caused a
+quarrel between the two workmen; each went his own way. Madame Goujet,
+however, seeing her big boy's beseeching glances, behaved very kindly
+to Gervaise. It was settled that they would lend their neighbors five
+hundred francs; the latter were to repay the amount by installments of
+twenty francs a month; it would last as long as it lasted.
+
+"I say, the blacksmith's sweet on you," exclaimed Coupeau, laughing,
+when he heard what had taken place. "Oh, I'm quite easy; he's too big a
+muff. We'll pay him back his money. But, really, if he had to deal with
+some people, he'd find himself pretty well duped."
+
+On the morrow the Coupeaus took the shop. All day long, Gervaise was
+running from Rue Neuve de la Goutte-d'Or. When the neighbors beheld her
+pass thus, nimble and delighted to the extent that she no longer limped,
+they said she must have undergone some operation.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER V.
+
+It so happened that the Boches had left the Rue des Poissonniers at the
+April quarter, and were now taking charge of the great house in the Rue
+de la Goutte-d'Or. It was a curious coincidence, all the same! One thing
+that worried Gervaise who had lived so quietly in her lodgings in the
+Rue Neuve, was the thought of again being under the subjection of some
+unpleasant person, with whom she would be continually quarrelling,
+either on account of water spilt in the passage or of a door shut too
+noisily at night-time. Concierges are such a disagreeable class! But it
+would be a pleasure to be with the Boches. They knew one another--they
+would always get on well together. It would be just like members of the
+same family.
+
+On the day the Coupeaus went to sign their lease, Gervaise felt her
+heart swollen with pride as she passed through the high doorway. She
+was then at length going to live in that house as vast as a little town,
+with its interminable staircases, and passages as long and winding as
+streets. She was excited by everything: the gray walls with varicolored
+rugs hanging from windows to dry in the sun, the dingy courtyard with
+as many holes in its pavement as a public square, the hum of activity
+coming through the walls. She felt joy that she was at last about to
+realize her ambition. She also felt fear that she would fail and be
+crushed in the endless struggle against the poverty and starvation she
+could feel breathing down her neck. It seemed to her that she was doing
+something very bold, throwing herself into the midst of some machinery
+in motion, as she listened to the blacksmith's hammers and the
+cabinetmakers' planes, hammering and hissing in the depths of the
+work-shops on the ground floor. On that day the water flowing from
+the dyer's under the entrance porch was a very pale apple green. She
+smilingly stepped over it; to her the color was a pleasant omen.
+
+The meeting with the landlord was to take place in the Boches' room.
+Monsieur Marescot, a wealthy cutler of the Rue de la Paix, had at one
+time turned a grindstone through the streets. He was now stated to be
+worth several millions. He was a man of fifty-five, large and big-boned.
+Even though he now wore a decoration in his button-hole, his huge hands
+were still those of a former workingman. It was his joy to carry off the
+scissors and knives of his tenants, to sharpen them himself, for the fun
+of it. He often stayed for hours with his concierges, closed up in the
+darkness of their lodges, going over the accounts. That's where he did
+all his business. He was now seated by Madame Boche's kitchen table,
+listening to her story of how the dressmaker on the third floor,
+staircase A, had used a filthy word in refusing to pay her rent. He had
+had to work precious hard once upon a time. But work was the high road
+to everything. And, after counting the two hundred and fifty francs for
+the first two quarters in advance, and dropping them into his capacious
+pocket, he related the story of his life, and showed his decoration.
+
+Gervaise, however, felt rather ill at ease on account of the Boches'
+behavior. They pretended not to know her. They were most assiduous in
+their attentions to the landlord, bowing down before him, watching
+for his least words, and nodding their approval of them. Madame Boche
+suddenly ran out and dispersed a group of children who were paddling
+about in front of the cistern, the tap of which they had turned full
+on, causing the water to flow over the pavement; and when she returned,
+upright and severe in her skirts, crossing the courtyard and glancing
+slowly up at all the windows, as though to assure herself of the good
+behavior of the household, she pursed her lips in a way to show with
+what authority she was invested, now that she reigned over three hundred
+tenants. Boche again spoke of the dressmaker on the second floor; he
+advised that she should be turned out; he reckoned up the number of
+quarters she owed with the importance of a steward whose management
+might be compromised. Monsieur Marescot approved the suggestion of
+turning her out, but he wished to wait till the half quarter. It was
+hard to turn people out into the street, more especially as it did not
+put a sou into the landlord's pocket. And Gervaise asked herself with a
+shudder if she too would be turned out into the street the day that some
+misfortune rendered her unable to pay.
+
+The concierge's lodge was as dismal as a cellar, black from smoke and
+crowded with dark furniture. All the sunlight fell upon the tailor's
+workbench by the window. An old frock coat that was being reworked lay
+on it. The Boches' only child, a four-year-old redhead named Pauline,
+was sitting on the floor, staring quietly at the veal simmering on
+the stove, delighted with the sharp odor of cooking that came from the
+frying pan.
+
+Monsieur Marescot again held out his hand to the zinc-worker, when the
+latter spoke of the repairs, recalling to his mind a promise he had made
+to talk the matter over later on. But the landlord grew angry, he had
+never promised anything; besides, it was not usual to do any repairs
+to a shop. However, he consented to go over the place, followed by the
+Coupeaus and Boche. The little linen-draper had carried off all his
+shelves and counters; the empty shop displayed its blackened ceiling and
+its cracked wall, on which hung strips of an old yellow paper. In the
+sonorous emptiness of the place, there ensued a heated discussion.
+Monsieur Marescot exclaimed that it was the business of shopkeepers
+to embellish their shops, for a shopkeeper might wish to have gold put
+about everywhere, and he, the landlord, could not put out gold. Then he
+related that he had spent more than twenty thousand francs in fitting
+up his premises in the Rue de la Paix. Gervaise, with her woman's
+obstinacy, kept repeating an argument which she considered unanswerable.
+He would repaper a lodging, would he not? Then, why did he not treat the
+shop the same as a lodging? She did not ask him for anything else--only
+to whitewash the ceiling, and put some fresh paper on the walls.
+
+Boche, all this while, remained dignified and impenetrable; he turned
+about and looked up in the air, without expressing an opinion. Coupeau
+winked at him in vain; he affected not to wish to take advantage of his
+great influence over the landlord. He ended, however, by making a slight
+grimace--a little smile accompanied by a nod of the head. Just then
+Monsieur Marescot, exasperated, and seemingly very unhappy, and
+clutching his fingers like a miser being despoiled of his gold, was
+giving way to Gervaise, promising to do the ceiling and repaper the shop
+on condition that she paid for half of the paper. And he hurried away
+declining to discuss anything further.
+
+Now that Boche was alone with the Coupeaus, the concierge became quite
+talkative and slapped them on the shoulders. Well, well, see what
+they had gotten. Without his help, they would never have gotten the
+concessions. Didn't they notice how the landlord had looked to him
+out of the corner of his eye for advice and how he'd made up his mind
+suddenly when he saw Boche smile? He confessed to them confidentially
+that he was the real boss of the building. It was he who decided who
+got eviction notices and who could become tenants. He collected all the
+rents and kept them for a couple of weeks in his bureau drawer.
+
+That evening the Coupeaus, to express their gratitude to the Boches,
+sent them two bottles of wine as a present.
+
+The following Monday the workmen started doing up the shop. The
+purchasing of the paper turned out especially to be a very big affair.
+Gervaise wanted a grey paper with blue flowers, so as to enliven and
+brighten the walls. Boche offered to take her to the dealers, so that
+she might make her own selection. But the landlord had given him formal
+instructions not to go beyond the price of fifteen sous the piece. They
+were there an hour. The laundress kept looking in despair at a very
+pretty chintz pattern costing eighteen sous the piece, and thought all
+the other papers hideous. At length the concierge gave in; he would
+arrange the matter, and, if necessary, would make out there was a
+piece more used than was really the case. So, on her way home, Gervaise
+purchased some tarts for Pauline. She did not like being behindhand--one
+always gained by behaving nicely to her.
+
+The shop was to be ready in four days. The workmen were there three
+weeks. At first it was arranged that they should merely wash the paint.
+But this paint, originally maroon, was so dirty and so sad-looking, that
+Gervaise allowed herself to be tempted to have the whole of the frontage
+painted a light blue with yellow moldings. Then the repairs seemed as
+though they would last for ever. Coupeau, as he was still not working,
+arrived early each morning to see how things were going. Boche left the
+overcoat or trousers on which he was working to come and supervise.
+Both of them would stand and watch with their hands behind their backs,
+puffing on their pipes.
+
+The painters were very merry fellows who would often desert their work
+to stand in the middle of the shop and join the discussion, shaking
+their heads for hours, admiring the work already done. The ceiling had
+been whitewashed quickly, but the paint on the walls never seemed to dry
+in a hurry.
+
+Around nine o'clock the painters would arrive with their paint pots
+which they stuck in a corner. They would look around and then disappear.
+Perhaps they went to eat breakfast. Sometimes Coupeau would take
+everyone for a drink--Boche, the two painters and any of Coupeau's
+friends who were nearby. This meant another afternoon wasted.
+
+Gervaise's patience was thoroughly exhausted, when, suddenly, everything
+was finished in two days, the paint varnished, the paper hung, and the
+dirt all cleared away. The workmen had finished it off as though they
+were playing, whistling away on their ladders, and singing loud enough
+to deafen the whole neighborhood.
+
+The moving in took place at once. During the first few days Gervaise
+felt as delighted as a child. Whenever she crossed the road on returning
+from some errand, she lingered to smile at her home. From a distance her
+shop appeared light and gay with its pale blue signboard, on which the
+word "Laundress" was painted in big yellow letters, amidst the dark row
+of the other frontages. In the window, closed in behind by little
+muslin curtains, and hung on either side with blue paper to show off the
+whiteness of the linen, some shirts were displayed, with some women's
+caps hanging above them on wires. She thought her shop looked pretty,
+being the same color as the heavens.
+
+Inside there was more blue; the paper, in imitation of a Pompadour
+chintz, represented a trellis overgrown with morning-glories. A huge
+table, taking up two-thirds of the room, was her ironing-table. It
+was covered with thick blanketing and draped with a strip of cretonne
+patterned with blue flower sprays that hid the trestles beneath.
+
+Gervaise was enchanted with her pretty establishment and would often
+seat herself on a stool and sigh with contentment, delighted with all
+the new equipment. Her first glance always went to the cast-iron stove
+where the irons were heated ten at a time, arranged over the heat on
+slanting rests. She would kneel down to look into the stove to make sure
+the apprentice had not put in too much coke.
+
+The lodging at the back of the shop was quite decent. The Coupeaus slept
+in the first room, where they also did the cooking and took their meals;
+a door at the back opened on to the courtyard of the house. Nana's bed
+was in the right hand room, which was lighted by a little round window
+close to the ceiling. As for Etienne, he shared the left hand room with
+the dirty clothes, enormous bundles of which lay about on the floor.
+However, there was one disadvantage--the Coupeaus would not admit it
+at first--but the damp ran down the walls, and it was impossible to see
+clearly in the place after three o'clock in the afternoon.
+
+In the neighborhood the new shop produced a great sensation. The
+Coupeaus were accused of going too fast, and making too much fuss.
+They had, in fact, spent the five hundred francs lent by the Goujets in
+fitting up the shop and in moving, without keeping sufficient to live
+upon for a fortnight, as they had intended doing. The morning that
+Gervaise took down her shutters for the first time, she had just six
+francs in her purse. But that did not worry her, customers began to
+arrive, and things seemed promising. A week later on the Saturday,
+before going to bed, she remained two hours making calculations on a
+piece of paper, and she awoke Coupeau to tell him, with a bright look on
+her face, that there were hundreds and thousands of francs to be made,
+if they were only careful.
+
+"Ah, well!" said Madame Lorilleux all over the Rue de la Goutte-d'Or,
+"my fool of a brother is seeing some funny things! All that was wanting
+was that Clump-clump should go about so haughty. It becomes her well,
+doesn't it?"
+
+The Lorilleuxs had declared a feud to the death against Gervaise. To
+begin with, they had almost died of rage during the time while the
+repairs were being done to the shop. If they caught sight of the
+painters from a distance, they would walk on the other side of the way,
+and go up to their rooms with their teeth set. A blue shop for that
+"nobody," it was enough to discourage all honest, hard-working people!
+Besides, the second day after the shop opened the apprentice happened to
+throw out a bowl of starch just at the moment when Madame Lorilleux
+was passing. The zinc-worker's sister caused a great commotion in
+the street, accusing her sister-in-law of insulting her through her
+employees. This broke off all relations. Now they only exchanged
+terrible glares when they encountered each other.
+
+"Yes, she leads a pretty life!" Madame Lorilleux kept saying. "We all
+know where the money came from that she paid for her wretched shop! She
+borrowed it from the blacksmith; and he springs from a nice family too!
+Didn't the father cut his own throat to save the guillotine the trouble
+of doing so? Anyhow, there was something disreputable of that sort!"
+
+She bluntly accused Gervaise of flirting with Goujet. She lied--she
+pretended she had surprised them together one night on a seat on the
+exterior Boulevards. The thought of this liaison, of pleasures that her
+sister-in-law was no doubt enjoying, exasperated her still more, because
+of her own ugly woman's strict sense of propriety. Every day the same
+cry came from her heart to her lips.
+
+"What does she have, that wretched cripple, for people to fall in love
+with her? Why doesn't any one want me?"
+
+She busied herself in endless gossiping among the neighbors. She told
+them the whole story. The day the Coupeaus got married she turned up her
+nose at her. Oh, she had a keen nose, she could smell in advance how
+it would turn out. Then, Clump-clump pretended to be so sweet, what a
+hypocrite! She and her husband had only agreed to be Nana's godparents
+for the sake of her brother. What a bundle it had cost, that fancy
+christening. If Clump-clump were on her deathbed she wouldn't give her a
+glass of water, no matter how much she begged.
+
+She didn't want anything to do with such a shameless baggage. Little
+Nana would always be welcome when she came up to see her godparents.
+The child couldn't be blamed for her mother's sins. But there was no
+use trying to tell Coupeau anything. Any real man in his situation would
+have beaten his wife and put a stop to it all. All they wanted was for
+him to insist on respect for his family. _Mon Dieu_! If she, Madame
+Lorilleux, had acted like that, Coupeau wouldn't be so complacent. He
+would have stabbed her for sure with his shears.
+
+The Boches, however, who sternly disapproved of quarrels in their
+building, said that the Lorilleuxs were in the wrong. The Lorilleuxs
+were no doubt respectable persons, quiet, working the whole day long,
+and paying their rent regularly. But, really, jealousy had driven them
+mad. And they were mean enough to skin an egg, real misers. They were so
+stingy that they'd hide their bottle when any one came in, so as not to
+have to offer a glass of wine--not regular people at all.
+
+Gervaise had brought over cassis and soda water one day to drink with
+the Boches. When Madame Lorilleux went by, she acted out spitting before
+the concierge's door. Well, after that when Madame Boche swept the
+corridors on Saturdays, she always left a pile of trash before the
+Lorilleuxs' door.
+
+"It isn't to be wondered at!" Madame Lorilleux would exclaim,
+"Clump-clump's always stuffing them, the gluttons! Ah! they're all
+alike; but they had better not annoy me! I'll complain to the landlord.
+Only yesterday I saw that sly old Boche chasing after Madame Gaudron's
+skirts. Just fancy! A woman of that age, and who has half a dozen
+children, too; it's positively disgusting! If I catch them at anything
+of the sort again, I'll tell Madame Boche, and she'll give them both a
+hiding. It'll be something to laugh at."
+
+Mother Coupeau continued to visit the two houses, agreeing with
+everybody and even managing to get asked oftener to dinner, by
+complaisantly listening one night to her daughter and the next night to
+her daughter-in-law.
+
+However, Madame Lerat did not go to visit the Coupeaus because she had
+argued with Gervaise about a Zouave who had cut the nose of his mistress
+with a razor. She was on the side of the Zouave, saying it was evidence
+of a great passion, but without explaining further her thought. Then,
+she had made Madame Lorilleux even more angry by telling her that
+Clump-clump had called her "Cow Tail" in front of fifteen or twenty
+people. Yes, that's what the Boches and all the neighbors called her
+now, "Cow Tail."
+
+Gervaise remained calm and cheerful among all these goings-on. She often
+stood by the door of her shop greeting friends who passed by with a nod
+and a smile. It was her pleasure to take a moment between batches
+of ironing to enjoy the street and take pride in her own stretch of
+sidewalk.
+
+She felt that the Rue de la Goutte d'Or was hers, and the neighboring
+streets, and the whole neighborhood. As she stood there, with her blonde
+hair slightly damp from the heat of the shop, she would look left and
+right, taking in the people, the buildings, and the sky. To the left
+Rue de la Goutte d'Or was peaceful and almost empty, like a country town
+with women idling in their doorways. While, to the right, only a short
+distance away, Rue des Poissonniers had a noisy throng of people and
+vehicles.
+
+The stretch of gutter before her own shop became very important in her
+mind. It was like a wide river which she longed to see neat and clean.
+It was a lively river, colored by the dye shop with the most fanciful of
+hues which contrasted with the black mud beside it.
+
+Then there were the shops: a large grocery with a display of dried
+fruits protected by mesh nets; a shop selling work clothes which had
+white tunics and blue smocks hanging before it with arms that waved at
+the slightest breeze. Cats were purring on the counters of the fruit
+store and the tripe shop. Madame Vigouroux, the coal dealer next door,
+returned her greetings. She was a plump, short woman with bright eyes
+in a dark face who was always joking with the men while standing at her
+doorway. Her shop was decorated in imitation of a rustic chalet. The
+neighbors on the other side were a mother and daughter, the Cudorges.
+The umbrella sellers kept their door closed and never came out to visit.
+
+Gervaise always looked across the road, too, through the wide carriage
+entrance of the windowless wall opposite her, at the blacksmith's forge.
+The courtyard was cluttered with vans and carts. Inscribed on the wall
+was the word "Blacksmith."
+
+At the lower end of the wall between the small shops selling scrap iron
+and fried potatoes was a watchmaker. He wore a frock coat and was
+always very neat. His cuckoo clocks could be heard in chorus against the
+background noise of the street and the blacksmith's rhythmic clanging.
+
+The neighborhood in general thought Gervaise very nice. There was, it is
+true, a good deal of scandal related regarding her; but everyone admired
+her large eyes, small mouth and beautiful white teeth. In short she was
+a pretty blonde, and had it not been for her crippled leg she might have
+ranked amongst the comeliest. She was now in her twenty-eighth year, and
+had grown considerably plumper. Her fine features were becoming puffy,
+and her gestures were assuming a pleasant indolence.
+
+At times she occasionally seemed to forget herself on the edge of a
+chair, whilst she waited for her iron to heat, smiling vaguely and with
+an expression of greedy joy upon her face. She was becoming fond of
+good living, everybody said so; but that was not a very grave fault, but
+rather the contrary. When one earns sufficient to be able to buy good
+food, one would be foolish to eat potato parings. All the more so as she
+continued to work very hard, slaving to please her customers, sitting
+up late at night after the place was closed, whenever there was anything
+urgent.
+
+She was lucky as all her neighbors said; everything prospered with
+her. She did the washing for all the house--M. Madinier, Mademoiselle
+Remanjou, the Boches. She even secured some of the customers of her
+old employer, Madame Fauconnier, Parisian ladies living in the Rue du
+Faubourg-Poissonniere. As early as the third week she was obliged to
+engage two workwomen, Madame Putois and tall Clemence, the girl who
+used to live on the sixth floor; counting her apprentice, that little
+squint-eyed Augustine, who was as ugly as a beggar's behind, that made
+three persons in her employ. Others would certainly have lost their
+heads at such a piece of good fortune. It was excusable for her to slack
+a little on Monday after drudging all through the week. Besides, it was
+necessary to her. She would have had no courage left, and would have
+expected to see the shirts iron themselves, if she had not been able to
+dress up in some pretty thing.
+
+Gervaise was always so amiable, meek as a lamb, sweet as sugar. There
+wasn't any one she disliked except Madame Lorilleux. While she was
+enjoying a good meal and coffee, she could be indulgent and forgive
+everybody saying: "We have to forgive each other--don't we?--unless
+we want to live like savages." Hadn't all her dreams come true? She
+remembered her old dream: to have a job, enough bread to eat and a
+corner in which to sleep, to bring up her children, not to be beaten,
+and to die in her own bed. She had everything she wanted now and more
+than she had ever expected. She laughed, thinking of delaying dying in
+her own bed as long as possible.
+
+It was to Coupeau especially that Gervaise behaved nicely. Never an
+angry word, never a complaint behind her husband's back. The zinc-worker
+had at length resumed work; and as the job he was engaged on was at
+the other side of Paris, she gave him every morning forty sous for his
+luncheon, his glass of wine and his tobacco. Only, two days out of every
+six, Coupeau would stop on the way, spend the forty sous in drink with
+a friend, and return home to lunch, with some cock-and-bull story. Once
+even he did not take the trouble to go far; he treated himself, My-Boots
+and three others to a regular feast--snails, roast meat, and some sealed
+bottles of wine--at the "Capuchin," on the Barriere de la Chapelle.
+Then, as his forty sous were not sufficient, he had sent the waiter
+to his wife with the bill and the information that he was in pawn. She
+laughed and shrugged her shoulders. Where was the harm if her old man
+amused himself a bit? You must give men a long rein if you want to live
+peaceably at home. From one word to another, one soon arrived at blows.
+_Mon Dieu_! It was easy to understand. Coupeau still suffered from his
+leg; besides, he was led astray. He was obliged to do as the others did,
+or else he would be thought a cheap skate. And it was really a matter of
+no consequence. If he came home a bit elevated, he went to bed, and two
+hours afterwards he was all right again.
+
+It was now the warm time of the year. One June afternoon, a Saturday
+when there was a lot of work to get through, Gervaise herself had piled
+the coke into the stove, around which ten irons were heating, whilst a
+rumbling sound issued from the chimney. At that hour the sun was shining
+full on the shop front, and the pavement reflected the heat waves,
+causing all sorts of quaint shadows to dance over the ceiling, and that
+blaze of light which assumed a bluish tinge from the color of the
+paper on the shelves and against the window, was almost blinding in the
+intensity with which it shone over the ironing-table, like a golden dust
+shaken among the fine linen. The atmosphere was stifling. The shop door
+was thrown wide open, but not a breath of air entered; the clothes
+which were hung up on brass wires to dry, steamed and became as stiff as
+shavings in less than three quarters of an hour. For some little while
+past an oppressive silence had reigned in that furnace-like heat,
+interrupted only by the smothered sound of the banging down of the irons
+on the thick blanket covered with calico.
+
+"Ah, well!" said Gervaise, "it's enough to melt one! We might have to
+take off our chemises."
+
+She was sitting on the floor, in front of a basin, starching some
+things. Her sleeves were rolled up and her camisole was slipping down
+her shoulders. Little curls of golden hair were stuck to her
+skin by perspiration. She carefully dipped caps, shirt-fronts, entire
+petticoats, and the trimmings of women's drawers into the milky water.
+Then she rolled the things up and placed them at the bottom of a
+square basket, after dipping her hand in a pail and shaking it over the
+portions of the shirts and drawers which she had not starched.
+
+"This basketful's for you, Madame Putois," she said. "Look sharp, now!
+It dries at once, and will want doing all over again in an hour."
+
+Madame Putois, a thin little woman of forty-five, was ironing. Though
+she was buttoned up in an old chestnut-colored dress, there was not a
+drop of perspiration to be seen. She had not even taken her cap off, a
+black cap trimmed with green ribbons turned partly yellow. And she stood
+perfectly upright in front of the ironing-table, which was too high
+for her, sticking out her elbows, and moving her iron with the jerky
+evolutions of a puppet. On a sudden she exclaimed:
+
+"Ah, no! Mademoiselle Clemence, you mustn't take your camisole off. You
+know I don't like such indecencies. Whilst you're about it, you'd better
+show everything. There's already three men over the way stopping to
+look."
+
+Tall Clemence called her an old beast between her teeth. She was
+suffocating; she might certainly make herself comfortable; everyone was
+not gifted with a skin as dry as touchwood. Besides no one could see
+anything; and she held up her arms, whilst her opulent bosom almost
+ripped her chemise, and her shoulders were bursting through the straps.
+At the rate she was going, Clemence was not likely to have any marrow
+left in her bones long before she was thirty years old. Mornings after
+big parties she was unable to feel the ground she trod upon, and fell
+asleep over her work, whilst her head and her stomach seemed as though
+stuffed full of rags. But she was kept on all the same, for no other
+workwoman could iron a shirt with her style. Shirts were her specialty.
+
+"This is mine, isn't it?" she declared, tapping her bosom. "And it
+doesn't bite; it hurts nobody!"
+
+"Clemence, put your wrapper on again," said Gervaise. "Madame Putois is
+right, it isn't decent. People will begin to take my house for what it
+isn't."
+
+So tall Clemence dressed herself again, grumbling the while. "_Mon
+Dieu!_ There's prudery for you."
+
+And she vented her rage on the apprentice, that squint-eyed Augustine
+who was ironing some stockings and handkerchiefs beside her. She jostled
+her and pushed her with her elbow; but Augustine who was of a surly
+disposition, and slyly spiteful in the way of an animal and a drudge,
+spat on the back of the other's dress just out of revenge, without being
+seen. Gervaise, during this incident, had commenced a cap belonging
+to Madame Boche, which she intended to take great pains with. She had
+prepared some boiled starch to make it look new again. She was gently
+passing a little iron rounded at both ends over the inside of the crown
+of the cap, when a bony-looking woman entered the shop, her face covered
+with red blotches and her skirts sopping wet. It was a washerwoman
+who employed three assistants at the wash-house in the Rue de la
+Goutte-d'Or.
+
+"You've come too soon, Madame Bijard!" cried Gervaise. "I told you to
+call this evening. I'm too busy to attend to you now!"
+
+But as the washerwoman began lamenting and fearing that she would not be
+able to put all the things to soak that day, she consented to give her
+the dirty clothes at once. They went to fetch the bundles in the left
+hand room where Etienne slept, and returned with enormous armfuls which
+they piled up on the floor at the back of the shop. The sorting lasted
+a good half hour. Gervaise made heaps all round her, throwing the shirts
+in one, the chemises in another, the handkerchiefs, the socks, the
+dish-cloths in others. Whenever she came across anything belonging to a
+new customer, she marked it with a cross in red cotton thread so as to
+know it again. And from all this dirty linen which they were throwing
+about there issued an offensive odor in the warm atmosphere.
+
+"Oh! La, la. What a stench!" said Clemence, holding her nose.
+
+"Of course there is! If it were clean they wouldn't send it to us,"
+quietly explained Gervaise. "It smells as one would expect it to, that's
+all! We said fourteen chemises, didn't we, Madame Bijard? Fifteen,
+sixteen, seventeen--"
+
+And she continued counting aloud. Used to this kind of thing she
+evinced no disgust. She thrust her bare pink arms deep into the piles of
+laundry: shirts yellow with grime, towels stiff from dirty dish water,
+socks threadbare and eaten away by sweat. The strong odor which slapped
+her in the face as she sorted the piles of clothes made her feel drowsy.
+She seemed to be intoxicating herself with this stench of humanity as
+she sat on the edge of a stool, bending far over, smiling vaguely, her
+eyes slightly misty. It was as if her laziness was started by a kind
+of smothering caused by the dirty clothes which poisoned the air in the
+shop. Just as she was shaking out a child's dirty diaper, Coupeau came
+in.
+
+"By Jove!" he stuttered, "what a sun! It shines full on your head!"
+
+The zinc-worker caught hold of the ironing-table to save himself from
+falling. It was the first time he had been so drunk. Until then he
+had sometimes come home slightly tipsy, but nothing more. This time,
+however, he had a black eye, just a friendly slap he had run up against
+in a playful moment. His curly hair, already streaked with grey, must
+have dusted a corner in some low wineshop, for a cobweb was hanging to
+one of his locks over the back of his neck. He was still as attractive
+as ever, though his features were rather drawn and aged, and his under
+jaw projected more; but he was always lively, as he would sometimes say,
+with a complexion to be envied by a duchess.
+
+"I'll just explain it to you," he resumed, addressing Gervaise.
+
+"It was Celery-Root, you know him, the bloke with a wooden leg. Well,
+as he was going back to his native place, he wanted to treat us. Oh! We
+were all right, if it hadn't been for that devil of a sun. In the street
+everybody looks shaky. Really, all the world's drunk!"
+
+And as tall Clemence laughed at his thinking that the people in the
+street were drunk, he was himself seized with an intense fit of gaiety
+which almost strangled him.
+
+"Look at them! The blessed tipplers! Aren't they funny?" he cried. "But
+it's not their fault. It's the sun that's causing it."
+
+All the shop laughed, even Madame Putois, who did not like drunkards.
+That squint-eyed Augustine was cackling like a hen, suffocating with her
+mouth wide open. Gervaise, however, suspected Coupeau of not having come
+straight home, but of having passed an hour with the Lorilleuxs who were
+always filling his head with unpleasant ideas. When he swore he had
+not been near them she laughed also, full of indulgence and not even
+reproaching him with having wasted another day.
+
+"_Mon Dieu!_ What nonsense he does talk," she murmured. "How does he
+manage to say such stupid things?" Then in a maternal tone of voice she
+added, "Now go to bed, won't you? You see we're busy; you're in our
+way. That makes thirty-two handkerchiefs, Madame Bijard; and two more,
+thirty-four."
+
+But Coupeau was not sleepy. He stood there wagging his body from side
+to side like the pendulum of a clock and chuckling in an obstinate and
+teasing manner. Gervaise, wanting to finish with Madame Bijard, called
+to Clemence to count the laundry while she made the list. Tall Clemence
+made a dirty remark about every item that she touched. She commented
+on the customers' misfortunes and their bedroom adventures. She had a
+wash-house joke for every rip or stain that passed through her hands.
+Augustine pretended that she didn't understand, but her ears were wide
+open. Madame Putois compressed her lips, thinking it a disgrace to
+say such things in front of Coupeau. It's not a man's business to have
+anything to do with dirty linen. It's just not done among decent people.
+
+Gervaise, serious and her mind fully occupied with what she was about,
+did not seem to notice. As she wrote she gave a glance to each article
+as it passed before her, so as to recognize it; and she never made a
+mistake; she guessed the owner's name just by the look or the color.
+Those napkins belonged to the Goujets, that was evident; they had not
+been used to wipe out frying-pans. That pillow-case certainly came from
+the Boches on account of the pomatum with which Madame Boche always
+smeared her things. There was no need to put your nose close to the
+flannel vests of Monsieur Madinier; his skin was so oily that it clogged
+up his woolens.
+
+She knew many peculiarities, the cleanliness of some, the ragged
+underclothes of neighborhood ladies who appeared on the streets in silk
+dresses; how many items each family soiled weekly; the way some people's
+garments were always torn at the same spot. Oh, she had many tales
+to tell. For instance, the chemises of Mademoiselle Remanjou provided
+material for endless comments: they wore out at the top first because
+the old maid had bony, sharp shoulders; and they were never really
+dirty, proving that you dry up by her age, like a stick of wood out of
+which it's hard to squeeze a drop of anything. It was thus that at
+every sorting of the dirty linen in the shop they undressed the whole
+neighborhood of the Goutte-d'Or.
+
+"Oh, here's something luscious!" cried Clemence, opening another bundle.
+
+Gervaise, suddenly seized with a great repugnance, drew back.
+
+"Madame Gaudron's bundle?" said she. "I'll no longer wash for her, I'll
+find some excuse. No, I'm not more particular than another. I've handled
+some most disgusting linen in my time; but really, that lot I can't
+stomach. What can the woman do to get her things into such a state?"
+
+And she requested Clemence to look sharp. But the girl continued her
+remarks, thrusting the clothes sullenly about her, with complaints on
+the soiled caps she waved like triumphal banners of filth. Meanwhile the
+heaps around Gervaise had grown higher. Still seated on the edge of the
+stool, she was now disappearing between the petticoats and chemises.
+In front of her were the sheets, the table cloths, a veritable mass of
+dirtiness.
+
+She seemed even rosier and more languid than usual within this spreading
+sea of soiled laundry. She had regained her composure, forgetting Madame
+Gaudron's laundry, stirring the various piles of clothing to make sure
+there had been no mistake in sorting. Squint-eyed Augustine had just
+stuffed the stove so full of coke that its cast-iron sides were bright
+red. The sun was shining obliquely on the window; the shop was in a
+blaze. Then, Coupeau, whom the great heat intoxicated all the more, was
+seized with a sudden fit of tenderness. He advanced towards Gervaise
+with open arms and deeply moved.
+
+"You're a good wife," he stammered. "I must kiss you."
+
+But he caught his foot in the garments which barred the way and nearly
+fell.
+
+"What a nuisance you are!" said Gervaise without getting angry. "Keep
+still, we're nearly done now."
+
+No, he wanted to kiss her. He must do so because he loved her so much.
+Whilst he stuttered he tried to get round the heap of petticoats and
+stumbled against the pile of chemises; then as he obstinately persisted
+his feet caught together and he fell flat, his nose in the midst of the
+dish-cloths. Gervaise, beginning to lose her temper pushed him, saying
+that he was mixing all the things up. But Clemence and even Madame
+Putois maintained that she was wrong. It was very nice of him after all.
+He wanted to kiss her. She might very well let herself be kissed.
+
+"You're lucky, you are, Madame Coupeau," said Madame Bijard, whose
+drunkard of a husband, a locksmith, was nearly beating her to death each
+evening when he came in. "If my old man was like that when he's had a
+drop, it would be a real pleasure!"
+
+Gervaise had calmed down and was already regretting her hastiness. She
+helped Coupeau up on his legs again. Then she offered her cheek with a
+smile. But the zinc-worker, without caring a button for the other people
+being present, seized her bosom.
+
+"It's not for the sake of saying so," he murmured; "but your dirty linen
+stinks tremendously! Still, I love you all the same, you know."
+
+"Leave off, you're tickling me," cried she, laughing the louder. "What a
+great silly you are! How can you be so absurd?"
+
+He had caught hold of her and would not let her go. She gradually
+abandoned herself to him, dizzy from the slight faintness caused by the
+heap of clothes and not minding Coupeau's foul-smelling breath. The long
+kiss they exchanged on each other's mouths in the midst of the filth of
+the laundress's trade was perhaps the first tumble in the slow downfall
+of their life together.
+
+Madame Bijard had meanwhile been tying the laundry up into bundles and
+talking about her daughter, Eulalie, who at two was as smart as a grown
+woman. She could be left by herself; she never cried or played with
+matches. Finally Madame Bijard took the laundry away a bundle at a time,
+her face splotched with purple and her tall form bent under the weight.
+
+"This heat is becoming unbearable, we're roasting," said Gervaise,
+wiping her face before returning to Madame Boche's cap.
+
+They talked of boxing Augustine's ears when they saw that the stove was
+red-hot. The irons, also, were getting in the same condition. She must
+have the very devil in her body! One could not turn one's back a moment
+without her being up to some of her tricks. Now they would have to
+wait a quarter of an hour before they would be able to use their irons.
+Gervaise covered the fire with two shovelfuls of cinders. Then she
+thought to hang some sheets on the brass wires near the ceiling to serve
+as curtains to keep out the sunlight.
+
+Things were now better in the shop. The temperature was still high, but
+you could imagine it was cooler. Footsteps could still be heard outside
+but you were free to make yourself comfortable. Clemence removed her
+camisole again. Coupeau still refused to go to bed, so they allowed him
+to stay, but he had to promise to be quiet in a corner, for they were
+very busy.
+
+"Whatever has that vermin done with my little iron?" murmured Gervaise,
+speaking of Augustine.
+
+They were for ever seeking the little iron, which they found in the most
+out-of-the-way places, where the apprentice, so they said, hid it out of
+spite. Gervaise could now finish Madame Boche's cap. First she roughly
+smoothed the lace, spreading it out with her hand, and then she
+straightened it up by light strokes of the iron. It had a very fancy
+border consisting of narrow puffs alternating with insertions of
+embroidery. She was working on it silently and conscientiously, ironing
+the puffs and insertions.
+
+Silence prevailed for a time. Nothing was to be heard except the soft
+thud of irons on the ironing pad. On both sides of the huge rectangular
+table Gervaise, her two employees, and the apprentice were bending
+over, slaving at their tasks with rounded shoulders, their arms moving
+incessantly. Each had a flat brick blackened by hot irons near her. A
+soup plate filled with clean water was on the middle of the table with a
+moistening rag and a small brush soaking in it.
+
+A bouquet of large white lilies bloomed in what had once been a brandied
+cherry jar. Its cluster of snowy flowers suggested a corner of a royal
+garden. Madame Putois had begun the basket that Gervaise had brought to
+her filled with towels, wrappers, cuffs and underdrawers. Augustine
+was dawdling with the stockings and washcloths, gazing into the air,
+seemingly fascinated by a large fly that was buzzing around. Clemence
+had done thirty-four men's shirts so far that day.
+
+"Always wine, never spirits!" suddenly said the zinc-worker, who felt
+the necessity of making this declaration. "Spirits make me drunk, I'll
+have none of them."
+
+Clemence took an iron from the stove with her leather holder in which a
+piece of sheet iron was inserted, and held it up to her cheek to see
+how hot it was. She rubbed it on her brick, wiped it on a piece of rag
+hanging from her waist-band and started on her thirty-fifth shirt, first
+of all ironing the shoulders and the sleeves.
+
+"Bah! Monsieur Coupeau," said she after a minute or two, "a little glass
+of brandy isn't bad. It sets me going. Besides, the sooner you're merry,
+the jollier it is. Oh! I don't make any mistake; I know that I shan't
+make old bones."
+
+"What a nuisance you are with your funeral ideas!" interrupted Madame
+Putois who did not like hearing people talk of anything sad.
+
+Coupeau had arisen and was becoming angry thinking that he had been
+accused of drinking brandy. He swore on his own head and on the heads of
+his wife and child that there was not a drop of brandy in his veins. And
+he went up to Clemence and blew in her face so that she might smell his
+breath. Then he began to giggle because her bare shoulders were right
+under his nose. He thought maybe he could see more. Clemence, having
+folded over the back of the shirt and ironed it on both sides, was now
+working on the cuffs and collar. However, as he was shoving against her,
+he caused her to make a wrinkle, obliging her to reach for the brush
+soaking in the soup plate to smooth it out.
+
+"Madame," said she, "do make him leave off bothering me."
+
+"Leave her alone; it's stupid of you to go on like that," quietly
+observed Gervaise. "We're in a hurry, do you hear?"
+
+They were in a hurry, well! What? It was not his fault. He was doing no
+harm. He was not touching, he was only looking. Was it no longer allowed
+to look at the beautiful things that God had made? All the same, she had
+precious fine arms, that artful Clemence! She might exhibit herself for
+two sous and nobody would have to regret his money. The girl allowed him
+to go on, laughing at these coarse compliments of a drunken man. And she
+soon commenced joking with him. He chuffed her about the shirts. So she
+was always doing shirts? Why yes, she practically lived in them. _Mon
+Dieu!_ She knew them pretty well. Hundreds and hundreds of them had
+passed through her hands. Just about every man in the neighborhood
+was wearing her handiwork on his body. Her shoulders were shaking with
+laughter through all this, but she managed to continue ironing.
+
+"That's the banter!" said she, laughing harder than ever.
+
+That squint-eyed Augustine almost burst, the joke seemed to her so
+funny. The others bullied her. There was a brat for you who laughed at
+words she ought not to understand! Clemence handed her her iron; the
+apprentice finished up the irons on the stockings and the dish-cloths
+when they were not hot enough for the starched things. But she took hold
+of this one so clumsily that she made herself a cuff in the form of a
+long burn on the wrist. And she sobbed and accused Clemence of having
+burnt her on purpose. The latter who had gone to fetch a very hot iron
+for the shirt-front consoled her at once by threatening to iron her two
+ears if she did not leave off. Then she placed a piece of flannel under
+the front and slowly passed the iron over it giving the starch time
+to show up and dry. The shirt-front became as stiff and as shiny as
+cardboard.
+
+"By golly!" swore Coupeau, who was treading behind her with the
+obstinacy of a drunkard.
+
+He raised himself up with a shrill laugh that resembled a pulley in want
+of grease. Clemence, leaning heavily over the ironing-table, her wrists
+bent in, her elbows sticking out and wide apart was bending her neck in
+a last effort; and all her muscles swelled, her shoulders rose with
+the slow play of the muscles beating beneath the soft skin, her breasts
+heaved, wet with perspiration in the rosy shadow of the half open
+chemise. Then Coupeau thrust out his hands, trying to touch her bare
+flesh.
+
+"Madame! Madame!" cried Clemence, "do make him leave off! I shall go
+away if it continues. I won't be intimated."
+
+Gervaise glanced over just as her husband's hands began to explore
+inside the chemise.
+
+"Really, Coupeau, you're too foolish," said she, with a vexed air, as
+though she were scolding a child who persisted in eating his jam without
+bread. "You must go to bed."
+
+"Yes, go to bed, Monsieur Coupeau; it will be far better," exclaimed
+Madame Putois.
+
+"Ah! Well," stuttered he, without ceasing to chuckle, "you're all
+precious particular! So one mustn't amuse oneself now? Women, I know how
+to handle them; I'll only kiss them, no more. One admires a lady, you
+know, and wants to show it. And, besides, when one displays one's goods,
+it's that one may make one's choice, isn't it? Why does the tall blonde
+show everything she's got? It's not decent."
+
+And turning towards Clemence, he added: "You know, my lovely, you're
+wrong to be to very insolent. If it's because there are others here--"
+
+But he was unable to continue. Gervaise very calmly seized hold of him
+with one hand, and placed the other on his mouth. He struggled, just by
+way of a joke, whilst she pushed him to the back of the shop, towards
+the bedroom. He got his mouth free and said that he was willing to go to
+bed, but that the tall blonde must come and warm his feet.
+
+Then Gervaise could be heard taking off his shoes. She removed his
+clothes too, bullying him in a motherly way. He burst out laughing after
+she had removed his trousers and kicked about, pretending that she was
+tickling him. At last she tucked him in carefully like a child. Was he
+comfortable now? But he did not answer; he called to Clemence:
+
+"I say, my lovely, I'm here, and waiting for you!"
+
+When Gervaise went back into the shop, the squint-eyed Augustine was
+being properly chastised by Clemence because of a dirty iron that Madame
+Putois had used and which had caused her to soil a camisole. Clemence,
+in defending herself for not having cleaned her iron, blamed Augustine,
+swearing that it wasn't hers, in spite of the spot of burned starch
+still clinging to the bottom. The apprentice, outraged at the injustice,
+openly spat on the front of Clemence's dress, earning a slap for her
+boldness. Now, as Augustine went about cleaning the iron, she saved up
+her spit and each time she passed Clemence spat on her back and laughed
+to herself.
+
+Gervaise continued with the lace of Madame Boche's cap. In the sudden
+calm which ensued, one could hear Coupeau's husky voice issuing from the
+depths of the bedroom. He was still jolly, and was laughing to himself
+as he uttered bits of phrases.
+
+"How stupid she is, my wife! How stupid of her to put me to bed! Really,
+it's too absurd, in the middle of the day, when one isn't sleepy."
+
+But, all on a sudden, he snored. Then Gervaise gave a sigh of relief,
+happy in knowing that he was at length quiet, and sleeping off his
+intoxication on two good mattresses. And she spoke out in the silence,
+in a slow and continuous voice, without taking her eyes off her work.
+
+"You see, he hasn't his reason, one can't be angry. Were I to be harsh
+with him, it would be of no use. I prefer to agree with him and get him
+to bed; then, at least, it's over at once and I'm quiet. Besides, he
+isn't ill-natured, he loves me very much. You could see that just a
+moment ago when he was desperate to give me a kiss. That's quite nice of
+him. There are plenty of men, you know, who after drinking a bit don't
+come straight home but stay out chasing women. Oh, he may fool around
+with the women in the shop, but it doesn't lead to anything. Clemence,
+you mustn't feel insulted. You know how it is when a man's had too much
+to drink. He could do anything and not even remember it."
+
+She spoke composedly, not at all angry, being quite used to Coupeau's
+sprees and not holding them against him. A silence settled down for a
+while when she stopped talking. There was a lot of work to get done.
+They figured they would have to keep at it until eleven, working as fast
+as they could. Now that they were undisturbed, all of them were pounding
+away. Bare arms were moving back and forth, showing glimpses of pink
+among the whiteness of the laundry.
+
+More coke had been put into the stove and the sunlight slanted in
+between the sheets onto the stove. You could see the heat rising up
+through the rays of the sun. It became so stifling that Augustine ran
+out of spit and was forced to lick her lips. The room smelled of
+the heat and of the working women. The white lilies in the jar were
+beginning to fade, yet they still exuded a pure and strong perfume.
+Coupeau's heavy snores were heard like the regular ticking of a huge
+clock, setting the tempo for the heavy labor in the shop.
+
+On the morrow of his carouses, the zinc-worker always had a headache,
+a splitting headache which kept him all day with his hair uncombed, his
+breath offensive, and his mouth all swollen and askew. He got up late on
+those days, not shaking the fleas off till about eight o'clock; and he
+would hang about the shop, unable to make up his mind to start off to
+his work. It was another day lost. In the morning he would complain that
+his legs bent like pieces of thread, and would call himself a great fool
+to guzzle to such an extent, as it broke one's constitution. Then, too,
+there were a lot of lazy bums who wouldn't let you go and you'd get to
+drinking more in spite of yourself. No, no, no more for him.
+
+After lunch he would always begin to perk up and deny that he had been
+really drunk the night before. Maybe just a bit lit up. He was rock
+solid and able to drink anything he wanted without even blinking an eye.
+
+When he had thoroughly badgered the workwomen, Gervaise would give him
+twenty sous to clear out. And off he would go to buy his tobacco at the
+"Little Civet," in the Rue des Poissonniers, where he generally took a
+plum in brandy whenever he met a friend. Then, he spent the rest of
+the twenty sous at old Francois's, at the corner of the Rue de la
+Goutte-d'Or, where there was a famous wine, quite young, which tickled
+your gullet. This was an old-fashioned place with a low ceiling. There
+was a smoky room to one side where soup was served. He would stay there
+until evening drinking because there was an understanding that he didn't
+have to pay right away and they would never send the bill to his wife.
+Besides he was a jolly fellow, who would never do the least harm--a chap
+who loved a spree sure enough, and who colored his nose in his turn
+but in a nice manner, full of contempt for those pigs of men who have
+succumbed to alcohol, and whom one never sees sober! He always went home
+as gay and as gallant as a lark.
+
+"Has your lover been?" he would sometimes ask Gervaise by way of teasing
+her. "One never sees him now; I must go and rout him out."
+
+The lover was Goujet. He avoided, in fact, calling too often for fear of
+being in the way, and also of causing people to talk. Yet he frequently
+found a pretext, such as bringing the washing; and he would pass no end
+of time on the pavement in front of the shop. There was a corner right
+at the back in which he liked to sit, without moving for hours, and
+smoke his short pipe. Once every ten days, in the evening after his
+dinner, he would venture there and take up his favorite position. And he
+was no talker, his mouth almost seemed sewn up, as he sat with his eyes
+fixed on Gervaise, and only removed his pipe to laugh at everything she
+said. When they were working late on a Saturday he would stay on, and
+appeared to amuse himself more than if he had gone to a theatre.
+
+Sometimes the women stayed in the shop ironing until three in the
+morning. A lamp hung from the ceiling and spread a brilliant light
+making the linen look like fresh snow. The apprentice would put up the
+shop shutters, but since these July nights were scorching hot, the door
+would be left open. The later the hour the more casual the women became
+with their clothes while trying to be comfortable. The lamplight
+flecked their rosy skin with gold specks, especially Gervaise who was so
+pleasantly rounded.
+
+On these nights Goujet would be overcome by the heat from the stove and
+the odor of linen steaming under the hot irons. He would drift into a
+sort of giddiness, his thinking slowed and his eyes obsessed by these
+hurrying women as their naked arms moved back and forth, working far
+into the night to have the neighborhood's best clothes ready for Sunday.
+
+Everything around the laundry was slumbering, settled into sleep for the
+night. Midnight rang, then one o'clock, then two o'clock. There were
+no vehicles or pedestrians. In the dark and deserted street, only their
+shop door let out any light. Once in a while, footsteps would be heard
+and a man would pass the shop. As he crossed the path of light he would
+stretch his neck to look in, startled by the sound of the thudding
+irons, and carry with him the quick glimpse of bare-shouldered
+laundresses immersed in a rosy mist.
+
+Goujet, seeing that Gervaise did not know what to do with Etienne, and
+wishing to deliver him from Coupeau's kicks, had engaged him to go
+and blow the bellows at the factory where he worked. The profession
+of bolt-maker, if not one to be proud of on account of the dirt of the
+forge and of the monotony of constantly hammering on pieces of iron of
+a similar kind, was nevertheless a well paid one, at which ten and even
+twelve francs a day could be earned. The youngster, who was then twelve
+years old, would soon be able to go in for it, if the calling was to his
+liking. And Etienne had thus become another link between the laundress
+and the blacksmith. The latter would bring the child home and speak of
+his good conduct. Everyone laughingly said that Goujet was smitten
+with Gervaise. She knew it, and blushed like a young girl, the flush of
+modesty coloring her cheeks with the bright tints of an apple. The poor
+fellow, he was never any trouble! He never made a bold gesture or an
+indelicate remark. You didn't find many men like him. Gervaise didn't
+want to admit it, but she derived a great deal of pleasure from being
+adored like this. Whenever a problem arose she thought immediately of
+the blacksmith and was consoled. There was never any awkward tension
+when they were alone together. They just looked at each other and smiled
+happily with no need to talk. It was a very sensible kind of affection.
+
+Towards the end of the summer, Nana quite upset the household. She was
+six years old and promised to be a thorough good-for-nothing. So as not
+to have her always under her feet her mother took her every morning to
+a little school in the Rue Polonceau kept by Mademoiselle Josse. She
+fastened her playfellows' dresses together behind, she filled the
+school-mistress's snuff-box with ashes, and invented other tricks much
+less decent which could not be mentioned. Twice Mademoiselle Josse
+expelled her and then took her back again so as not to lose the six
+francs a month. Directly lessons were over Nana avenged herself for
+having been kept in by making an infernal noise under the porch and in
+the courtyard where the ironers, whose ears could not stand the racket,
+sent her to play. There she would meet Pauline, the Boches' daughter,
+and Victor, the son of Gervaise's old employer--a big booby of ten who
+delighted in playing with very little girls. Madame Fauconnier who
+had not quarreled with the Coupeaus would herself send her son. In
+the house, too, there was an extraordinary swarm of brats, flights of
+children who rolled down the four staircases at all hours of the day and
+alighted on the pavement of the courtyard like troops of noisy pillaging
+sparrows. Madame Gaudron was responsible for nine of them, all with
+uncombed hair, runny noses, hand-me-down clothes, saggy stockings and
+ripped jackets. Another woman on the sixth floor had seven of them. This
+hoard that only got their faces washed when it rained were in all shapes
+and sizes, fat, thin, big and barely out of the cradle.
+
+Nana reigned supreme over this host of urchins; she ordered about girls
+twice her own size, and only deigned to relinquish a little of her power
+in favor of Pauline and Victor, intimate confidants who enforced her
+commands. This precious chit was for ever wanting to play at being
+mamma, undressing the smallest ones to dress them again, insisting on
+examining the others all over, messing them about and exercising the
+capricious despotism of a grown-up person with a vicious disposition.
+Under her leadership they got up tricks for which they should have been
+well spanked. The troop paddled in the colored water from the dyer's and
+emerged from it with legs stained blue or red as high as the knees; then
+off it flew to the locksmith's where it purloined nails and filings and
+started off again to alight in the midst of the carpenter's shavings,
+enormous heaps of shavings, which delighted it immensely and in which it
+rolled head over heels exposing their behinds.
+
+The courtyard was her kingdom. It echoed with the clatter of little
+shoes as they stampeded back and forth with piercing cries. On some days
+the courtyard was too small for them and the troop would dash down into
+the cellar, race up a staircase, run along a corridor, then dash up
+another staircase and follow another corridor for hours. They never got
+tired of their yelling and clambering.
+
+"Aren't they abominable, those little toads?" cried Madame Boche.
+"Really, people can have but very little to do to have time to get so
+many brats. And yet they complain of having no bread."
+
+Boche said that children pushed up out of poverty like mushrooms out
+of manure. All day long his wife was screaming at them and chasing them
+with her broom. Finally she had to lock the door of the cellar when
+she learned from Pauline that Nana was playing doctor down there in the
+dark, viciously finding pleasure in applying remedies to the others by
+beating them with sticks.
+
+Well, one afternoon there was a frightful scene. It was bound to have
+come sooner or later. Nana had thought of a very funny little game.
+She had stolen one of Madame Boche's wooden shoes from outside the
+concierge's room. She tied a string to it and began dragging it about
+like a cart. Victor on his side had had the idea to fill it with potato
+parings. Then a procession was formed. Nana came first dragging the
+wooden shoe. Pauline and Victor walked on her right and left. Then
+the entire crowd of urchins followed in order, the big ones first, the
+little ones next, jostling one another; a baby in long skirts about as
+tall as a boot with an old tattered bonnet cocked on one side of its
+head, brought up the rear. And the procession chanted something sad with
+plenty of ohs! and ahs! Nana had said that they were going to play at a
+funeral; the potato parings represented the body. When they had gone
+the round of the courtyard, they recommenced. They thought it immensely
+amusing.
+
+"What can they be up to?" murmured Madame Boche, who emerged from her
+room to see, ever mistrustful and on the alert.
+
+And when she understood: "But it's my shoe!" cried she furiously. "Ah,
+the rogues!"
+
+She distributed some smacks, clouted Nana on both cheeks and
+administered a kick to Pauline, that great goose who allowed the others
+to steal her mother's shoe. It so happened that Gervaise was filling a
+bucket at the tap. When she beheld Nana, her nose bleeding and choking
+with sobs, she almost sprang at the concierge's chignon. It was not
+right to hit a child as though it were an ox. One could have no heart,
+one must be the lowest of the low if one did so. Madame Boche naturally
+replied in a similar strain. When one had a beast of a girl like that
+one should keep her locked up. At length Boche himself appeared in
+the doorway to call his wife to come in and not to enter into so many
+explanations with a filthy thing like her. There was a regular quarrel.
+
+As a matter of fact things had not gone on very pleasantly between the
+Boches and the Coupeaus for a month past. Gervaise, who was of a very
+generous nature, was continually bestowing wine, broth, oranges and
+slices of cake on the Boches. One night she had taken the remains of
+an endive and beetroot salad to the concierge's room, knowing that the
+latter would have done anything for such a treat. But on the morrow she
+became quite pale with rage on hearing Mademoiselle Remanjou relate
+how Madame Boche had thrown the salad away in the presence of several
+persons with an air of disgust and under the pretext that she, thank
+goodness, was not yet reduced to feeding on things which others had
+messed about. From that time Gervaise took no more presents to the
+Boches--nothing. Now the Boches seemed to think that Gervaise was
+stealing something which was rightfully theirs. Gervaise saw that
+she had made a mistake. If she hadn't catered to them so much in the
+beginning, they wouldn't have gotten into the habit of expecting it and
+might have remained on good terms with her.
+
+Now the concierge began to spread slander about Gervaise. There was a
+great fuss with the landlord, Monsieur Marescot, at the October rental
+period, because Gervaise was a day late with the rent. Madame Boche
+accused her of eating up all her money in fancy dishes. Monsieur
+Marescot charged into the laundry demanding to be paid at once. He
+didn't even bother to remove his hat. The money was ready and was paid
+to him immediately. The Boches had now made up with the Lorilleuxs who
+now came and did their guzzling in the concierge's lodge. They assured
+each other that they never would have fallen out if it hadn't been for
+Clump-clump. She was enough to set mountains to fighting. Ah! the Boches
+knew her well now, they could understand how much the Lorilleuxs must
+suffer. And whenever she passed beneath the doorway they all affected to
+sneer at her.
+
+One day, Gervaise went up to see the Lorilleuxs in spite of this. It
+was with respect to mother Coupeau who was then sixty-seven years old.
+Mother Coupeau's eyesight was almost completely gone. Her legs too were
+no longer what they used to be. She had been obliged to give up her last
+cleaning job and now threatened to die of hunger if assistance were
+not forthcoming. Gervaise thought it shameful that a woman of her age,
+having three children should be thus abandoned by heaven and earth. And
+as Coupeau refused to speak to the Lorilleuxs on the subject saying that
+she, Gervaise, could very well go and do so, the latter went up in a fit
+of indignation with which her heart was almost bursting.
+
+When she reached their door she entered without knocking. Nothing had
+been changed since the night when the Lorilleuxs, at their first meeting
+had received her so ungraciously. The same strip of faded woolen stuff
+separated the room from the workshop, a lodging like a gun barrel, and
+which looked as though it had been built for an eel. Right at the back
+Lorilleux, leaning over his bench, was squeezing together one by one the
+links of a piece of chain, whilst Madame Lorilleux, standing in front
+of the vise was passing a gold wire through the draw-plate. In the broad
+daylight the little forge had a rosy reflection.
+
+"Yes, it's I!" said Gervaise. "I daresay you're surprised to see me as
+we're at daggers drawn. But I've come neither for you nor myself you may
+be quite sure. It's for mother Coupeau that I've come. Yes, I have
+come to see if we're going to let her beg her bread from the charity of
+others."
+
+"Ah, well, that's a fine way to burst in upon one!" murmured Madame
+Lorilleux. "One must have a rare cheek."
+
+And she turned her back and resumed drawing her gold wire, affecting to
+ignore her sister-in-law's presence. But Lorilleux raised his pale face
+and cried:
+
+"What's that you say?"
+
+Then, as he had heard perfectly well, he continued:
+
+"More back-bitings, eh? She's nice, mother Coupeau, to go and cry
+starvation everywhere! Yet only the day before yesterday she dined here.
+We do what we can. We haven't got all the gold of Peru. Only if she goes
+about gossiping with others she had better stay with them, for we don't
+like spies."
+
+He took up the piece of chain and turned his back also, adding as though
+with regret:
+
+"When everyone gives five francs a month, we'll give five francs."
+
+Gervaise had calmed down and felt quite chilled by the wooden looking
+faces of the Lorilleux. She had never once set foot in their rooms
+without experiencing a certain uneasiness. With her eyes fixed on the
+floor, staring at the holes of the wooden grating through which the
+waste gold fell she now explained herself in a reasonable manner. Mother
+Coupeau had three children; if each one gave five francs it would only
+make fifteen francs, and really that was not enough, one could not live
+on it; they must at least triple the sum. But Lorilleux cried out.
+Where did she think he could steal fifteen francs a month? It was quite
+amusing, people thought he was rich simply because he had gold in his
+place. He began then to criticize mother Coupeau: she had to have
+her morning coffee, she took a sip of brandy now and then, she was as
+demanding as if she were rich. _Mon Dieu!_ Sure, everyone liked the
+good things of life. But if you've never saved a sou, you had to do what
+other folks did and do without. Besides, mother Coupeau wasn't too old
+to work. She could see well enough when she was trying to pick a choice
+morsel from the platter. She was just an old spendthrift trying to get
+others to provide her with comforts. Even had he had the means, he would
+have considered it wrong to support any one in idleness.
+
+Gervaise remained conciliatory, and peaceably argued against all this
+bad reasoning. She tried to soften the Lorilleuxs. But the husband ended
+by no longer answering her. The wife was now at the forge scouring
+a piece of chain in the little, long-handled brass saucepan full of
+lye-water. She still affectedly turned her back, as though a hundred
+leagues away. And Gervaise continued speaking, watching them pretending
+to be absorbed in their labor in the midst of the black dust of the
+workshop, their bodies distorted, their clothes patched and greasy, both
+become stupidly hardened like old tools in the pursuit of their narrow
+mechanical task. Then suddenly anger again got the better of her and she
+exclaimed:
+
+"Very well, I'd rather it was so; keep your money! I'll give mother
+Coupeau a home, do you hear? I picked up a cat the other evening, so I
+can at least do the same for your mother. And she shall be in want of
+nothing; she shall have her coffee and her drop of brandy! Good heavens!
+what a vile family!"
+
+At these words Madame Lorilleux turned round. She brandished the
+saucepan as though she was about to throw the lye-water in her
+sister-in-law's face. She stammered with rage:
+
+"Be off, or I shall do you an injury! And don't count on the five francs
+because I won't give a radish! No, not a radish! Ah well, yes, five
+francs! Mother would be your servant and you would enjoy yourself with
+my five francs! If she goes to live with you, tell her this, she may
+croak, I won't even send her a glass of water. Now off you go! Clear
+out!"
+
+"What a monster of a woman!" said Gervaise violently slamming the door.
+
+On the morrow she brought mother Coupeau to live with her, putting her
+bed in the inner room where Nana slept. The moving did not take long,
+for all the furniture mother Coupeau had was her bed, an ancient walnut
+wardrobe which was put in the dirty-clothes room, a table, and two
+chairs. They sold the table and had the chairs recaned. From the very
+first the old lady took over the sweeping. She washed the dishes and
+made herself useful, happy to have settled her problem.
+
+The Lorilleux were furious enough to explode, especially since Madame
+Lerat was now back on good terms with the Coupeaus. One day the two
+sisters, the flower-maker and the chainmaker came to blows about
+Gervaise because Madame Lerat dared to express approval of the way she
+was taking care of their mother. When she noticed how this upset the
+other, she went on to remark that Gervaise had magnificent eyes, eyes
+warm enough to set paper on fire. The two of them commenced slapping
+each other and swore they never would see each other again. Nowadays
+Madame Lerat often spent her evenings in the shop, laughing to herself
+at Clemence's spicy remarks.
+
+Three years passed by. There were frequent quarrels and reconciliations.
+Gervaise did not care a straw for the Lorilleux, the Boches and all the
+others who were not of her way of thinking. If they did not like it,
+they could forget it. She earned what she wished, that was her principal
+concern. The people of the neighborhood had ended by greatly esteeming
+her, for one did not find many customers so kind as she was, paying
+punctually, never caviling or higgling. She bought her bread of Madame
+Coudeloup, in the Rue des Poissonniers; her meat of stout Charles, a
+butcher in the Rue Polonceau; her groceries at Lehongre's, in the Rue
+de la Goutte-d'Or, almost opposite her own shop. Francois, the wine
+merchant at the corner of the street, supplied her with wine in baskets
+of fifty bottles. Her neighbor Vigouroux, whose wife's hips must have
+been black and blue, the men pinched her so much, sold coke to her at
+the same price as the gas company. And, in all truth, her tradespeople
+served her faithfully, knowing that there was everything to gain by
+treating her well.
+
+Besides, whenever she went out around the neighborhood, she was greeted
+everywhere. She felt quite at home. Sometimes she put off doing a
+laundry job just to enjoy being outdoors among her good friends. On days
+when she was too rushed to do her own cooking and had to go out to buy
+something already cooked, she would stop to gossip with her arms full
+of bowls. The neighbor she respected the most was still the watchmaker.
+Often she would cross the street to greet him in his tiny cupboard of
+a shop, taking pleasure in the gaiety of the little cuckoo clocks with
+their pendulums ticking away the hours in chorus.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VI.
+
+One afternoon in the autumn Gervaise, who had been taking some washing
+home to a customer in the Rue des Portes-Blanches, found herself at the
+bottom of the Rue des Poissonniers just as the day was declining. It had
+rained in the morning, the weather was very mild and an odor rose from
+the greasy pavement; and the laundress, burdened with her big basket,
+was rather out of breath, slow of step, and inclined to take her ease
+as she ascended the street with the vague preoccupation of a longing
+increased by her weariness. She would have liked to have had something
+to eat. Then, on raising her eyes she beheld the name of the Rue
+Marcadet, and she suddenly had the idea of going to see Goujet at
+his forge. He had no end of times told her to look in any day she was
+curious to see how iron was wrought. Besides in the presence of other
+workmen she would ask for Etienne, and make believe that she had merely
+called for the youngster.
+
+The factory was somewhere on this end of the Rue Marcadet, but she
+didn't know exactly where and street numbers were often lacking on those
+ramshackle buildings separated by vacant lots. She wouldn't have lived
+on this street for all the gold in the world. It was a wide street, but
+dirty, black with soot from factories, with holes in the pavement and
+deep ruts filled with stagnant water. On both sides were rows of
+sheds, workshops with beams and brickwork exposed so that they seemed
+unfinished, a messy collection of masonry. Beside them were dubious
+lodging houses and even more dubious taverns. All she could recall was
+that the bolt factory was next to a yard full of scrap iron and rags,
+a sort of open sewer spread over the ground, storing merchandise worth
+hundreds of thousands of francs, according to Goujet.
+
+The street was filled with a noisy racket. Exhaust pipes on roofs
+puffed out violent jets of steam; an automatic sawmill added a rhythmic
+screeching; a button factory shook the ground with the rumbling of its
+machines. She was looking up toward the Montmartre height, hesitant,
+uncertain whether to continue, when a gust of wind blew down a mass of
+sooty smoke that covered the entire street. She closed her eyes and held
+her breath. At that moment she heard the sound of hammers in cadence.
+Without realizing it, she had arrived directly in front of the bolt
+factory which she now recognized by the vacant lot beside it full of
+piles of scrap iron and old rags.
+
+She still hesitated, not knowing where to enter. A broken fence opened
+a passage which seemed to lead through the heaps of rubbish from some
+buildings recently pulled down. Two planks had been thrown across a
+large puddle of muddy water that barred the way. She ended by venturing
+along them, turned to the left and found herself lost in the depths of
+a strange forest of old carts, standing on end with their shafts in the
+air, and of hovels in ruins, the wood-work of which was still standing.
+Toward the back, stabbing through the half-light of sundown, a flame
+gleamed red. The clamor of the hammers had ceased. She was advancing
+carefully when a workman, his face blackened with coal-dust and wearing
+a goatee passed near her, casting a side-glance with his pale eyes.
+
+"Sir," asked she, "it's here is it not that a boy named Etienne works?
+He's my son."
+
+"Etienne, Etienne," repeated the workman in a hoarse voice as he twisted
+himself about. "Etienne; no I don't know him."
+
+An alcoholic reek like that from old brandy casks issued from his mouth.
+Meeting a woman in this dark corner seemed to be giving the fellow
+ideas, and so Gervaise drew back saying:
+
+"But yet it's here that Monsieur Goujet works, isn't it?"
+
+"Ah! Goujet, yes!" said the workman; "I know Goujet! If you come for
+Goujet, go right to the end."
+
+And turning round he called out at the top of his voice, which had a
+sound of cracked brass:
+
+"I say Golden-Mug, here's a lady wants you!"
+
+But a clanging of iron drowned the cry! Gervaise went to the end. She
+reached a door and stretching out her neck looked in. At first she could
+distinguish nothing. The forge had died down, but there was still a
+little glow which held back the advancing shadows from its corner. Great
+shadows seemed to float in the air. At times black shapes passed before
+the fire, shutting off this last bit of brightness, silhouettes of
+men so strangely magnified that their arms and legs were indistinct.
+Gervaise, not daring to venture in, called from the doorway in a faint
+voice:
+
+"Monsieur Goujet! Monsieur Goujet!"
+
+Suddenly all became lighted up. Beneath the puff of the bellows a jet
+of white flame had ascended and the whole interior of the shed could be
+seen, walled in by wooden planks, with openings roughly plastered over,
+and brick walls reinforcing the corners. Coal-ash had painted the whole
+expanse a sooty grey. Spider webs hung from the beams like rags hung up
+to dry, heavy with the accumulated dust of years. On shelves along the
+walls, or hanging from nails, or tossed into corners, she saw rusty
+iron, battered implements and huge tools. The white flame flared higher,
+like an explosion of dazzling sunlight revealing the trampled dirt
+underfoot, where the polished steel of four anvils fixed on blocks took
+on a reflection of silver sprinkled with gold.
+
+Then Gervaise recognized Goujet in front of the forge by his beautiful
+yellow beard. Etienne was blowing the bellows. Two other workmen were
+there, but she only beheld Goujet and walked forward and stood before
+him.
+
+"Why it's Madame Gervaise!" he exclaimed with a bright look on his face.
+"What a pleasant surprise."
+
+But as his comrades appeared to be rather amused, he pushed Etienne
+towards his mother and resumed:
+
+"You've come to see the youngster. He behaves himself well, he's
+beginning to get some strength in his wrists."
+
+"Well!" she said, "it isn't easy to find your way here. I thought I was
+going to the end of the world."
+
+After telling about her journey, she asked why no one in the shop knew
+Etienne's name. Goujet laughed and explained to her that everybody
+called him "Little Zouzou" because he had his hair cut short like that
+of a Zouave. While they were talking together Etienne stopped working
+the bellows and the flame of the forge dwindled to a rosy glow amid the
+gathering darkness. Touched by the presence of this smiling young woman,
+the blacksmith stood gazing at her.
+
+Then, as neither continued speaking, he seemed to recollect and broke
+the silence:
+
+"Excuse me, Madame Gervaise, I've something that has to be finished.
+You'll stay, won't you? You're not in anybody's way."
+
+She remained. Etienne returned to the bellows. The forge was soon ablaze
+again with a cloud of sparks; the more so as the youngster, wanting to
+show his mother what he could do, was making the bellows blow a regular
+hurricane. Goujet, standing up watching a bar of iron heating, was
+waiting with the tongs in his hand. The bright glare illuminated him
+without a shadow--sleeves rolled back, shirt neck open, bare arms and
+chest. When the bar was at white heat he seized it with the tongs and
+cut it with a hammer on the anvil, in pieces of equal length, as though
+he had been gently breaking pieces of glass. Then he put the pieces
+back into the fire, from which he took them one by one to work them
+into shape. He was forging hexagonal rivets. He placed each piece in a
+tool-hole of the anvil, bent down the iron that was to form the head,
+flattened the six sides and threw the finished rivet still red-hot on
+to the black earth, where its bright light gradually died out; and
+this with a continuous hammering, wielding in his right hand a hammer
+weighing five pounds, completing a detail at every blow, turning and
+working the iron with such dexterity that he was able to talk to and
+look at those about him. The anvil had a silvery ring. Without a drop of
+perspiration, quite at his ease, he struck in a good-natured sort of a
+way, not appearing to exert himself more than on the evenings when he
+cut out pictures at home.
+
+"Oh! these are little rivets of twenty millimetres," said he in reply to
+Gervaise's questions. "A fellow can do his three hundred a day. But it
+requires practice, for one's arm soon grows weary."
+
+And when she asked him if his wrist did not feel stiff at the end of the
+day he laughed aloud. Did she think him a young lady? His wrist had had
+plenty of drudgery for fifteen years past; it was now as strong as
+the iron implements it had been so long in contact with. She was right
+though; a gentleman who had never forged a rivet or a bolt, and who
+would try to show off with his five pound hammer, would find himself
+precious stiff in the course of a couple of hours. It did not seem much,
+but a few years of it often did for some very strong fellows. During
+this conversation the other workmen were also hammering away all
+together. Their tall shadows danced about in the light, the red flashes
+of the iron that the fire traversed, the gloomy recesses, clouds of
+sparks darted out from beneath the hammers and shone like suns on a
+level with the anvils. And Gervaise, feeling happy and interested in the
+movement round the forge, did not think of leaving. She was going a long
+way round to get nearer to Etienne without having her hands burnt, when
+she saw the dirty and bearded workman, whom she had spoken to outside,
+enter.
+
+"So you've found him, madame?" asked he in his drunken bantering way.
+"You know, Golden-Mug, it's I who told madame where to find you."
+
+He was called Salted-Mouth, otherwise Drink-without-Thirst, the brick of
+bricks, a dab hand at bolt forging, who wetted his iron every day with
+a pint and a half of brandy. He had gone out to have a drop, because
+he felt he wanted greasing to make him last till six o'clock. When he
+learnt that Little Zouzou's real name was Etienne, he thought it very
+funny; and he showed his black teeth as he laughed. Then he recognized
+Gervaise. Only the day before he had had a glass of wine with
+Coupeau. You could speak to Coupeau about Salted-Mouth, otherwise
+Drink-without-Thirst; he would at once say: "He's a jolly dog!" Ah! that
+joker Coupeau! He was one of the right sort; he stood treat oftener than
+his turn.
+
+"I'm awfully glad to know you're his missus," added he.
+
+"He deserves to have a pretty wife. Eh, Golden-Mug, madame is a fine
+woman, isn't she?"
+
+He was becoming quite gallant, sidling up towards the laundress, who
+took hold of her basket and held it in front of her so as to keep him
+at a distance. Goujet, annoyed and seeing that his comrade was joking
+because of his friendship for Gervaise, called out to him:
+
+"I say, lazybones, what about the forty millimetre bolts? Do you
+think you're equal to them now that you've got your gullet full, you
+confounded guzzler?"
+
+The blacksmith was alluding to an order for big bolts which necessitated
+two beaters at the anvil.
+
+"I'm ready to start at this moment, big baby!" replied Salted-Mouth,
+otherwise Drink-without-Thirst. "It sucks it's thumb and thinks itself a
+man. In spite of your size I'm equal to you!"
+
+"Yes, that's it, at once. Look sharp and off we go!"
+
+"Right you are, my boy!"
+
+They taunted each other, stimulated by Gervaise's presence. Goujet
+placed the pieces of iron that had been cut beforehand in the fire, then
+he fixed a tool-hole of large bore on an anvil. His comrade had taken
+from against the wall two sledge-hammers weighing twenty pounds each,
+the two big sisters of the factory whom the workers called Fifine and
+Dedele. And he continued to brag, talking of a half-gross of rivets
+which he had forged for the Dunkirk lighthouse, regular jewels, things
+to be put in a museum, they were so daintily finished off. Hang it all,
+no! he did not fear competition; before meeting with another chap like
+him, you might search every factory in the capital. They were going to
+have a laugh; they would see what they would see.
+
+"Madame will be judge," said he, turning towards the young woman.
+
+"Enough chattering," cried Goujet. "Now then, Zouzou, show your muscle!
+It's not hot enough, my lad."
+
+But Salted-Mouth, otherwise Drink-without-Thirst, asked: "So we strike
+together?"
+
+"Not a bit of it! each his own bolt, my friend!"
+
+This statement operated as a damper, and Goujet's comrade, on hearing
+it, remained speechless, in spite of his boasting. Bolts of forty
+millimetres fashioned by one man had never before been seen; the more so
+as the bolts were to be round-headed, a work of great difficulty, a real
+masterpiece to achieve.
+
+The three other workmen came over, leaving their jobs, to watch. A tall,
+lean one wagered a bottle of wine that Goujet would be beaten. Meanwhile
+the two blacksmiths had chosen their sledge hammers with eyes closed,
+because Fifine weighed a half pound more than Dedele. Salted-Mouth,
+otherwise Drink-without-Thirst, had the good luck to put his hand on
+Dedele; Fifine fell to Golden-Mug.
+
+While waiting for the iron to get hot enough, Salted-Mouth, otherwise
+Drink-without-Thirst, again showing off, struck a pose before the anvil
+while casting side glances toward Gervaise. He planted himself solidly,
+tapping his feet impatiently like a man ready for a fight, throwing all
+his strength into practice swings with Dedele. _Mon Dieu!_ He was good
+at this; he could have flattened the Vendome column like a pancake.
+
+"Now then, off you go!" said Goujet, placing one of the pieces of iron,
+as thick as a girl's wrist, in the tool-hole.
+
+Salted-Mouth, otherwise Drink-without-Thirst, leant back, and swung
+Dedele round with both hands. Short and lean, with his goatee bristling,
+and with his wolf-like eyes glaring beneath his unkempt hair, he seemed
+to snap at each swing of the hammer, springing up from the ground as
+though carried away by the force he put into the blow. He was a fierce
+one, who fought with the iron, annoyed at finding it so hard, and he
+even gave a grunt whenever he thought he had planted a fierce stroke.
+Perhaps brandy did weaken other people's arms, but he needed brandy in
+his veins, instead of blood. The drop he had taken a little while before
+had made his carcass as warm as a boiler; he felt he had the power of
+a steam-engine within him. And the iron seemed to be afraid of him this
+time; he flattened it more easily than if it had been a quid of tobacco.
+And it was a sight to see how Dedele waltzed! She cut such capers,
+with her tootsies in the air, just like a little dancer at the Elysee
+Montmartre, who exhibits her fine underclothes; for it would never do
+to dawdle, iron is so deceitful, it cools at once, just to spite the
+hammer. With thirty blows, Salted-Mouth, otherwise Drink-without-Thirst,
+had fashioned the head of his bolt. But he panted, his eyes were half
+out of his head, and got into a great rage as he felt his arms growing
+tired. Then, carried away by wrath, jumping about and yelling, he gave
+two more blows, just out of revenge for his trouble. When he took
+the bolt from the hole, it was deformed, its head being askew like a
+hunchback's.
+
+"Come now! Isn't that quickly beaten into shape?" said he all the same,
+with his self-confidence, as he presented his work to Gervaise.
+
+"I'm no judge, sir," replied the laundress, reservedly.
+
+But she saw plainly enough the marks of Dedele's last two kicks on the
+bolt, and she was very pleased. She bit her lips so as not to laugh, for
+now Goujet had every chance of winning.
+
+It was now Golden-Mug's turn. Before commencing, he gave the laundress
+a look full of confident tenderness. Then he did not hurry himself. He
+measured his distance, and swung the hammer from on high with all his
+might and at regular intervals. He had the classic style, accurate,
+evenly balanced, and supple. Fifine, in his hands, did not cut capers,
+like at a dance-hall, but made steady, certain progress; she rose and
+fell in cadence, like a lady of quality solemnly leading some ancient
+minuet.
+
+There was no brandy in Golden-Mug's veins, only blood, throbbing
+powerfully even into Fifine and controlling the job. That stalwart
+fellow! What a magnificent man he was at work. The high flame of the
+forge shone full on his face. His whole face seemed golden indeed with
+his short hair curling over his forehead and his splendid yellow beard.
+His neck was as straight as a column and his immense chest was wide
+enough for a woman to sleep across it. His shoulders and sculptured arms
+seemed to have been copied from a giant's statue in some museum.
+You could see his muscles swelling, mountains of flesh rippling and
+hardening under the skin; his shoulders, his chest, his neck expanded;
+he seemed to shed light about him, becoming beautiful and all-powerful
+like a kindly god.
+
+He had now swung Fifine twenty times, his eyes always fixed on the iron,
+drawing a deep breath with each blow, yet showing only two great drops
+of sweat trickling down from his temples. He counted: "Twenty-one,
+twenty-two, twenty-three--" Calmly Fifine continued, like a noble lady
+dancing.
+
+"What a show-off!" jeeringly murmured Salted-Mouth, otherwise
+Drink-without-Thirst.
+
+Gervaise, standing opposite Goujet, looked at him with an affectionate
+smile. _Mon Dieu!_ What fools men are! Here these two men were, pounding
+on their bolts to pay court to her. She understood it. They were
+battling with hammer blows, like two big red roosters vying for the
+favors of a little white hen. Sometimes the human heart has fantastic
+ways of expressing itself. This thundering of Dedele and Fifine upon the
+anvil was for her, this forge roaring and overflowing was for her. They
+were forging their love before her, battling over her.
+
+To be honest, she rather enjoyed it. All women are happy to receive
+compliments. The mighty blows of Golden-Mug found echoes in her heart;
+they rang within her, a crystal-clear music in time with the throbbing
+of her pulse. She had the feeling that this hammering was driving
+something deep inside of her, something solid, something hard as the
+iron of the bolt.
+
+She had no doubt Goujet would win. Salted-Mouth, otherwise
+Drink-without-Thirst, was much too ugly in his dirty tunic, jumping
+around like a monkey that had escaped from a zoo. She waited, blushing
+red, happy that the heat could explain the blush.
+
+Goujet was still counting.
+
+"And twenty-eight!" cried he at length, laying the hammer on the ground.
+"It's finished; you can look."
+
+The head of the bolt was clean, polished, and without a flaw, regular
+goldsmith's work, with the roundness of a marble cast in a mold. The
+other men looked at it and nodded their heads; there was no denying
+it was lovely enough to be worshipped. Salted-Mouth, otherwise
+Drink-without-Thirst, tried indeed to chuff; but it was no use, and
+ended by returning to his anvil, with his nose put out of joint.
+Gervaise had squeezed up against Goujet, as though to get a better view.
+Etienne having let go the bellows, the forge was once more becoming
+enveloped in shadow, like a brilliant red sunset suddenly giving way to
+black night. And the blacksmith and the laundress experienced a sweet
+pleasure in feeling this gloom surround them in that shed black with
+soot and filings, and where an odor of old iron prevailed. They could
+not have thought themselves more alone in the Bois de Vincennes had they
+met there in the depths of some copse. He took her hand as though he had
+conquered her.
+
+Outside, they scarcely exchanged a word. All he could find to say was
+that she might have taken Etienne away with her, had it not been that
+there was still another half-hour's work to get through. When she
+started away he called her back, wanting a few more minutes with her.
+
+"Come along. You haven't seen all the place. It's quite interesting."
+
+He led her to another shed where the owner was installing a new machine.
+She hesitated in the doorway, oppressed by an instinctive dread. The
+great hall was vibrating from the machines and black shadows filled the
+air. He reassured her with a smile, swearing that there was nothing to
+fear, only she should be careful not to let her skirts get caught in any
+of the gears. He went first and she followed into the deafening hubbub
+of whistling, amid clouds of steam peopled by human shadows moving
+busily.
+
+The passages were very narrow and there were obstacles to step
+over, holes to avoid, passing carts to move back from. She couldn't
+distinguish anything clearly or hear what Goujet was saying.
+
+Gervaise looked up and stopped to stare at the leather belts hanging
+from the roof in a gigantic spider web, each strip ceaselessly
+revolving. The steam engine that drove them was hidden behind a low
+brick wall so that the belts seemed to be moving by themselves. She
+stumbled and almost fell while looking up.
+
+Goujet raised his voice with explanations. There were the tapping
+machines operated by women, which put threads on bolts and nuts. Their
+steel gears were shining with oil. She could follow the entire process.
+She nodded her head and smiled.
+
+She was still a little tense, however, feeling uneasy at being so small
+among these rough metalworkers. She jumped back more than once, her
+blood suddenly chilled by the dull thud of a machine.
+
+Goujet had stopped before one of the rivet machines. He stood there
+brooding, his head lowered, his gaze fixed. This machine forged forty
+millimetre rivets with the calm ease of a giant. Nothing could be
+simpler. The stoker took the iron shank from the furnace; the striker
+put it into the socket, where a continuous stream of water cooled it to
+prevent softening of the steel. The press descended and the bolt flew
+out onto the ground, its head as round as though cast in a mold. Every
+twelve hours this machine made hundreds of kilograms of bolts!
+
+Goujet was not a mean person, but there were moments when he wanted to
+take Fifine and smash this machine to bits because he was angry to see
+that its arms were stronger than his own. He reasoned with himself,
+telling himself that human flesh cannot compete with steel. But he was
+still deeply hurt. The day would come when machinery would destroy the
+skilled worker. Their day's pay had already fallen from twelve francs
+to nine francs. There was talk of cutting it again. He stared at it,
+frowning, for three minutes without saying a word. His yellow
+beard seemed to bristle defiantly. Then, gradually an expression of
+resignation came over his face and he turned toward Gervaise who was
+clinging tightly to him and said with a sad smile:
+
+"Well! That machine would certainly win a contest. But perhaps it will
+be for the good of mankind in the long run."
+
+Gervaise didn't care a bit about the welfare of mankind. Smiling, she
+said to Goujet:
+
+"I like yours better, because they show the hand of an artist."
+
+Hearing this gave him great happiness because he had been afraid that
+she might be scornful of him after seeing the machines. _Mon Dieu!_ He
+might be stronger than Salted-Mouth, otherwise Drink-without-Thirst, but
+the machines were stronger yet. When Gervaise finally took her leave,
+Goujet was so happy that he almost crushed her with a hug.
+
+The laundress went every Saturday to the Goujets to deliver their
+washing. They still lived in the little house in the Rue Neuve de la
+Goutte-d'Or. During the first year she had regularly repaid them twenty
+francs a month; so as not to jumble up the accounts, the washing-book
+was only made up at the end of each month, and then she added to the
+amount whatever sum was necessary to make the twenty francs, for the
+Goujets' washing rarely came to more than seven or eight francs during
+that time. She had therefore paid off nearly half the sum owing, when
+one quarter day, not knowing what to do, some of her customers not
+having kept their promises, she had been obliged to go to the Goujets
+and borrow from them sufficient for her rent. On two other occasions she
+had also applied to them for the money to pay her workwomen, so that the
+debt had increased again to four hundred and twenty-five francs. Now,
+she no longer gave a halfpenny; she worked off the amount solely by the
+washing. It was not that she worked less, or that her business was not
+so prosperous. But something was going wrong in her home; the money
+seemed to melt away, and she was glad when she was able to make both
+ends meet. _Mon Dieu!_ What's the use of complaining as long as one gets
+by. She was putting on weight and this caused her to become a bit lazy.
+She no longer had the energy that she had in the past. Oh well, there
+was always something coming in.
+
+Madame Goujet felt a motherly concern for Gervaise and sometimes
+reprimanded her. This wasn't due to the money owed but because she
+liked her and didn't want to see her get into difficulties. She never
+mentioned the debt. In short, she behaved with the utmost delicacy.
+
+The morrow of Gervaise's visit to the forge happened to be the last
+Saturday of the month. When she reached the Goujets, where she made a
+point of going herself, her basket had so weighed on her arms that she
+was quite two minutes before she could get her breath. One would hardly
+believe how heavy clothes are, especially when there are sheets among
+them.
+
+"Are you sure you've brought everything?" asked Madame Goujet.
+
+She was very strict on that point. She insisted on having her washing
+brought home without a single article being kept back for the sake of
+order, as she said. She also required the laundress always to come on
+the day arranged and at the same hour; in that way there was no time
+wasted.
+
+"Oh! yes, everything is here," replied Gervaise smiling. "You know I
+never leave anything behind."
+
+"That's true," admitted Madame Goujet; "you've got into many bad habits
+but you're still free of that one."
+
+And while the laundress emptied her basket, laying the linen on the bed,
+the old woman praised her; she never burnt the things nor tore them like
+so many others did, neither did she pull the buttons off with the iron;
+only she used too much blue and made the shirt-fronts too stiff with
+starch.
+
+"Just look, it's like cardboard," continued she, making one crackle
+between her fingers. "My son does not complain, but it cuts his neck.
+To-morrow his neck will be all scratched when we return from Vincennes."
+
+"No, don't say that!" exclaimed Gervaise, quite grieved. "To look nice,
+shirts must be rather stiff, otherwise it's as though one had a rag on
+one's body. You should just see what the gentlemen wear. I do all your
+things myself. The workwomen never touch them and I assure you I take
+great pains. I would, if necessary, do everything over a dozen times,
+because it's for you, you know."
+
+She slightly blushed as she stammered out the last words. She was afraid
+of showing the great pleasure she took in ironing Goujet's shirts. She
+certainly had no wicked thoughts, but she was none the less a little bit
+ashamed.
+
+"Oh! I'm not complaining of your work; I know it's perfection," said
+Madame Goujet. "For instance, you've done this cap splendidly, only you
+could bring out the embroidery like that. And the flutings are all so
+even. Oh! I recognize your hand at once. When you give even a dish-cloth
+to one of your workwomen I detect it at once. In future, use a little
+less starch, that's all! Goujet does not care to look like a stylish
+gentleman."
+
+She had taken out her notebook and was crossing off the various items.
+Everything was in order. She noticed that Gervaise was charging six sous
+for each bonnet. She protested, but had to agree that it was in line
+with present prices. Men's shirts were five sous, women's underdrawers
+four sous, pillow-cases a sou and a half, and aprons one sou. No, the
+prices weren't high. Some laundresses charged a sou more for each item.
+
+Gervaise was now calling out the soiled clothes, as she packed them in
+her basket, for Madame Goujet to list. Then she lingered on, embarrassed
+by a request which she wished to make.
+
+"Madame Goujet," she said at length, "if it does not inconvenience you,
+I would like to take the money for the month's washing."
+
+It so happened that that month was a very heavy one, the account they
+had made up together amounting to ten francs, seven sous. Madame Goujet
+looked at her a moment in a serious manner, then she replied:
+
+"My child, it shall be as you wish. I will not refuse you the money as
+you are in need of it. Only it's scarcely the way to pay off your debt;
+I say that for your sake, you know. Really now, you should be careful."
+
+Gervaise received the lecture with bowed head and stammering excuses.
+The ten francs were to make up the amount of a bill she had given her
+coke merchant. But on hearing the word "bill," Madame Goujet became
+severer still. She gave herself as an example; she had reduced her
+expenditure ever since Goujet's wages had been lowered from twelve to
+nine francs a day. When one was wanting in wisdom whilst young, one dies
+of hunger in one's old age. But she held back and didn't tell Gervaise
+that she gave her their laundry only in order to help her pay off the
+debt. Before that she had done all her own washing, and she would have
+to do it herself again if the laundry continued taking so much cash out
+of her pocket. Gervaise spoke her thanks and left quickly as soon as she
+had received the ten francs seven sous. Outside on the landing she was
+so relieved she wanted to dance. She was becoming used to the annoying,
+unpleasant difficulties caused by a shortage of money and preferred to
+remember not the embarrassment but the joy in escaping from them.
+
+It was also on that Saturday that Gervaise met with a rather strange
+adventure as she descended the Goujets' staircase. She was obliged to
+stand up close against the stair-rail with her basket to make way for
+a tall bare-headed woman who was coming up, carrying in her hand a very
+fresh mackerel, with bloody gills, in a piece of paper. She recognized
+Virginie, the girl whose face she had slapped at the wash-house. They
+looked each other full in the face. Gervaise shut her eyes. She thought
+for a moment that she was going to be hit in the face with the fish. But
+no, Virginie even smiled slightly. Then, as her basket was blocking the
+staircase, the laundress wished to show how polite she, too, could be.
+
+"I beg your pardon," she said.
+
+"You are completely excused," replied the tall brunette.
+
+And they remained conversing together on the stairs, reconciled at once
+without having ventured on a single allusion to the past. Virginie,
+then twenty-nine years old, had become a superb woman of strapping
+proportions, her face, however, looking rather long between her two
+plaits of jet black hair. She at once began to relate her history just
+to show off. She had a husband now; she had married in the spring an
+ex-journeyman cabinetmaker, who recently left the army, and who had
+applied to be admitted into the police, because a post of that kind is
+more to be depended upon and more respectable. She had been out to buy
+the mackerel for him.
+
+"He adores mackerel," said she. "We must spoil them, those naughty men,
+mustn't we? But come up. You shall see our home. We are standing in a
+draught here."
+
+After Gervaise had told of her own marriage and that she had formerly
+occupied the very apartment Virginie now had, Virginie urged her even
+more strongly to come up since it is always nice to visit a spot where
+one had been happy.
+
+Virginie had lived for five years on the Left Bank at Gros-Caillou. That
+was where she had met her husband while he was still in the army.
+But she got tired of it, and wanted to come back to the Goutte-d'Or
+neighborhood where she knew everyone. She had only been living in the
+rooms opposite the Goujets for two weeks. Oh! everything was still a
+mess, but they were slowly getting it in order.
+
+Then, still on the staircase, they finally told each other their names.
+
+"Madame Coupeau."
+
+"Madame Poisson."
+
+And from that time forth, they called each other on every possible
+occasion Madame Poisson and Madame Coupeau, solely for the pleasure of
+being madame, they who in former days had been acquainted when occupying
+rather questionable positions. However, Gervaise felt rather mistrustful
+at heart. Perhaps the tall brunette had made it up the better to avenge
+herself for the beating at the wash-house by concocting some plan worthy
+of a spiteful hypocritical creature. Gervaise determined to be upon her
+guard. For the time being, as Virginie behaved so nicely, she would be
+nice also.
+
+In the room upstairs, Poisson, the husband, a man of thirty-five, with
+a cadaverous-looking countenance and carroty moustaches and beard, was
+seated working at a table near the window. He was making little boxes.
+His only tools were a knife, a tiny saw the size of a nail file and
+a pot of glue. He was using wood from old cigar boxes, thin boards of
+unfinished mahogany upon which he executed fretwork and embellishments
+of extraordinary delicacy. All year long he worked at making the same
+size boxes, only varying them occasionally by inlay work, new designs
+for the cover, or putting compartments inside. He did not sell his work,
+he distributed it in presents to persons of his acquaintance. It was
+for his own amusement, a way of occupying his time while waiting for his
+appointment to the police force. It was all that remained with him from
+his former occupation of cabinetmaking.
+
+Poisson rose from his seat and politely bowed to Gervaise, when his
+wife introduced her as an old friend. But he was no talker; he at once
+returned to his little saw. From time to time he merely glanced in the
+direction of the mackerel placed on the corner of the chest of drawers.
+Gervaise was very pleased to see her old lodging once more. She told
+them whereabouts her own furniture stood, and pointed out the place on
+the floor where Nana had been born. How strange it was to meet like
+this again, after so many years! They never dreamed of running into each
+other like this and even living in the same rooms.
+
+Virginie added some further details. Her husband had inherited a little
+money from an aunt and he would probably set her up in a shop before
+long. Meanwhile she was still sewing. At length, at the end of a full
+half hour, the laundress took her leave. Poisson scarcely seemed to
+notice her departure. While seeing her to the door, Virginie promised
+to return the visit. And she would have Gervaise do her laundry.
+While Virginie was keeping her in further conversation on the landing,
+Gervaise had the feeling that she wanted to say something about Lantier
+and her sister Adele, and this notion upset her a bit. But not a word
+was uttered respecting those unpleasant things; they parted, wishing
+each other good-bye in a very amiable manner.
+
+"Good-bye, Madame Coupeau."
+
+"Good-bye, Madame Poisson."
+
+That was the starting point of a great friendship. A week later,
+Virginie never passed Gervaise's shop without going in; and she remained
+there gossiping for hours together, to such an extent indeed that
+Poisson, filled with anxiety, fearing she had been run over, would come
+and seek her with his expressionless and death-like countenance. Now
+that she was seeing the dressmaker every day Gervaise became aware of
+a strange obsession. Every time Virginie began to talk Gervaise had the
+feeling Lantier was going to be mentioned. So she had Lantier on her
+mind throughout all of Virginie's visits. This was silly because, in
+fact, she didn't care a bit about Lantier or Adele at this time. She
+was quite certain that she had no curiosity as to what had happened to
+either of them. But this obsession got hold of her in spite of herself.
+Anyway, she didn't hold it against Virginie, it wasn't her fault,
+surely. She enjoyed being with her and looked forward to her visits.
+
+Meanwhile winter had come, the Coupeaus' fourth winter in the Rue de la
+Goutte-d'Or. December and January were particularly cold. It froze hard
+as it well could. After New Year's day the snow remained three weeks
+without melting. It did not interfere with work, but the contrary, for
+winter is the best season for the ironers. It was very pleasant inside
+the shop! There was never any ice on the window-panes like there was
+at the grocer's and the hosier's opposite. The stove was always stuffed
+with coke and kept things as hot as a Turkish bath. With the laundry
+steaming overhead you could almost imagine it was summer. You were quite
+comfortable with the doors closed and so much warmth everywhere that you
+were tempted to doze off with your eyes open. Gervaise laughed and said
+it reminded her of summer in the country. The street traffic made no
+noise in the snow and you could hardly hear the pedestrians who passed
+by. Only children's voices were heard in the silence, especially the
+noisy band of urchins who had made a long slide in the gutter near the
+blacksmith's shop.
+
+Gervaise would sometimes go over to the door, wipe the moisture from one
+of the panes with her hand, and look out to see what was happening to
+her neighborhood due to this extraordinary cold spell. Not one nose
+was being poked out of the adjacent shops. The entire neighborhood was
+muffled in snow. The only person she was able to exchange nods with was
+the coal-dealer next door, who still walked out bare-headed despite the
+severe freeze.
+
+What was especially enjoyable in this awful weather was to have some
+nice hot coffee in the middle of the day. The workwomen had no cause
+for complaint. The mistress made it very strong and without a grain of
+chicory. It was quite different to Madame Fauconnier's coffee, which was
+like ditch-water. Only whenever mother Coupeau undertook to make it, it
+was always an interminable time before it was ready, because she would
+fall asleep over the kettle. On these occasions, when the workwomen had
+finished their lunch, they would do a little ironing whilst waiting for
+the coffee.
+
+It so happened that on the morrow of Twelfth-day half-past twelve struck
+and still the coffee was not ready. It seemed to persist in declining to
+pass through the strainer. Mother Coupeau tapped against the pot with a
+tea-spoon; and one could hear the drops falling slowly, one by one, and
+without hurrying themselves any the more.
+
+"Leave it alone," said tall Clemence; "you'll make it thick. To-day
+there'll be as much to eat as to drink."
+
+Tall Clemence was working on a man's shirt, the plaits of which she
+separated with her finger-nail. She had caught a cold, her eyes were
+frightfully swollen and her chest was shaken with fits of coughing,
+which doubled her up beside the work-table. With all that she had not
+even a handkerchief round her neck and she was dressed in some cheap
+flimsy woolen stuff in which she shivered. Close by, Madame Putois,
+wrapped up in flannel muffled up to her ears, was ironing a petticoat
+which she turned round the skirt-board, the narrow end of which rested
+on the back of a chair; whilst a sheet laid on the floor prevented the
+petticoat from getting dirty as it trailed along the tiles. Gervaise
+alone occupied half the work-table with some embroidered muslin
+curtains, over which she passed her iron in a straight line with her
+arms stretched out to avoid making any creases. All on a sudden the
+coffee running through noisily caused her to raise her head. It was that
+squint-eyed Augustine who had just given it an outlet by thrusting a
+spoon through the strainer.
+
+"Leave it alone!" cried Gervaise. "Whatever is the matter with you?
+It'll be like drinking mud now."
+
+Mother Coupeau had placed five glasses on a corner of the work-table
+that was free. The women now left their work. The mistress always poured
+out the coffee herself after putting two lumps of sugar into each glass.
+It was the moment that they all looked forward to. On this occasion, as
+each one took her glass and squatted down on a little stool in front of
+the stove, the shop-door opened. Virginie entered, shivering all over.
+
+"Ah, my children," said she, "it cuts you in two! I can no longer feel
+my ears. The cold is something awful!"
+
+"Why, it's Madame Poisson!" exclaimed Gervaise. "Ah, well! You've come
+at the right time. You must have some coffee with us."
+
+"On my word, I can't say no. One feels the frost in one's bones merely
+by crossing the street."
+
+There was still some coffee left, luckily. Mother Coupeau went and
+fetched a sixth glass, and Gervaise let Virginie help herself to sugar
+out of politeness. The workwomen moved to give Virginie a small space
+close to the stove. Her nose was very red, she shivered a bit, pressing
+her hands which were stiff with cold around the glass to warm them. She
+had just come from the grocery store where you froze to death waiting
+for a quarter-pound of cheese and so she raved about the warmth of the
+shop. It felt so good on one's skin. After warming up, she stretched out
+her long legs and the six of them relaxed together, supping their coffee
+slowly, surround by all the work still to be done. Mother Coupeau and
+Virginie were the only ones on chairs, the others, on low benches,
+seemed to be sitting on the floor. Squint-eyed Augustine had pulled over
+a corner of the cloth below the skirt, stretching herself out on it.
+
+No one spoke at first; all kept their noses in their glasses, enjoying
+their coffee.
+
+"It's not bad, all the same," declared Clemence.
+
+But she was seized with a fit of coughing, and almost choked. She leant
+her head against the wall to cough with more force.
+
+"That's a bad cough you've got," said Virginie. "Wherever did you catch
+it?"
+
+"One never knows!" replied Clemence, wiping her face with her sleeve.
+"It must have been the other night. There were two girls who were
+flaying each other outside the 'Grand-Balcony.' I wanted to see, so I
+stood there whilst the snow was falling. Ah, what a drubbing! It was
+enough to make one die with laughing. One had her nose almost pulled
+off; the blood streamed on the ground. When the other, a great long
+stick like me, saw the blood, she slipped away as quick as she could.
+And I coughed nearly all night. Besides that too, men are so stupid in
+bed, they don't let you have any covers over you half the time."
+
+"Pretty conduct that," murmured Madame Putois. "You're killing yourself,
+my girl."
+
+"And if it pleases me to kill myself! Life isn't so very amusing.
+Slaving all the blessed day long to earn fifty-five sous, cooking one's
+blood from morning to night in front of the stove; no, you know, I've
+had enough of it! All the same though, this cough won't do me the
+service of making me croak. It'll go off the same way it came."
+
+A short silence ensued. The good-for-nothing Clemence, who led riots
+in low dancing establishments, and shrieked like a screech-owl at work,
+always saddened everyone with her thoughts of death. Gervaise knew her
+well, and so merely said:
+
+"You're never very gay the morning after a night of high living."
+
+The truth was that Gervaise did not like this talk about women fighting.
+Because of the flogging at the wash-house it annoyed her whenever anyone
+spoke before her and Virginie of kicks with wooden shoes and of slaps
+in the face. It so happened, too, that Virginie was looking at her and
+smiling.
+
+"By the way," she said quietly, "yesterday I saw some hair-pulling. They
+almost tore each other to pieces."
+
+"Who were they?" Madame Putois inquired.
+
+"The midwife and her maid, you know, a little blonde. What a pest the
+girl is! She was yelling at her employer that she had got rid of a child
+for the fruit woman and that she was going to tell the police if she
+wasn't paid to keep quiet. So the midwife slapped her right in the face
+and then the little blonde jumped on her and started scratching her and
+pulling her hair, really--by the roots. The sausage-man had to grab her
+to put a stop to it."
+
+The workwomen laughed. Then they all took a sip of coffee.
+
+"Do you believe that she really got rid of a child?" Clemence asked.
+
+"Oh, yes! The rumor was all round the neighborhood," Virginie answered.
+"I didn't see it myself, you understand, but it's part of the job. All
+midwives do it."
+
+"Well!" exclaimed Madame Putois. "You have to be pretty stupid to put
+yourself in their hands. No thanks, you could be maimed for life. But
+there's a sure way to do it. Drink a glass of holy water every evening
+and make the sign of the cross three times over your stomach with your
+thumb. Then your troubles will be over."
+
+Everyone thought mother Coupeau was asleep, but she shook her head in
+protest. She knew another way and it was infallible. You had to eat a
+hard-cooked egg every two hours, and put spinach leaves on your loins.
+Squint-eyed Augustine set up a hen-cackling when she heard this. They
+had forgotten about her. Gervaise lifted up the petticoat that was being
+ironed and found her rolling on the floor with laughter. She jerked
+her upright. What was she laughing about? Was it right for her to be
+eavesdropping when older people were talking, the little goose? Anyway
+it was time for her to deliver the laundry to a friend of Madame Lerat
+at Les Batignolles. So Gervaise hung a basket on her arm and pushed her
+toward the door. Augustine went off, sobbing and sniveling, dragging her
+feet in the snow.
+
+Meanwhile mother Coupeau, Madame Putois and Clemence were discussing the
+effectiveness of hard-cooked eggs and spinach leaves. Then Virginie said
+softly:
+
+"_Mon Dieu!_ you have a fight, and then you make it up, if you have
+a generous heart." She leaned toward Gervaise with a smile and added,
+"Really, I don't hold any grudge against you for that business at the
+wash-house. You remember it, don't you?"
+
+This was what Gervaise had been dreading. She guessed that the subject
+of Lantier and Adele would now come up.
+
+Virginie had moved close to Gervaise so as not to be overheard by the
+others. Gervaise, lulled by the excessive heat, felt so limp that she
+couldn't even summon the willpower to change the subject. She foresaw
+what the tall brunette would say and her heart was stirred with an
+emotion which she didn't want to admit to herself.
+
+"I hope I'm not hurting your feelings," Virginie continued. "Often I've
+had it on the tip of my tongue. But since we are now on the subject,
+word of honor, I don't have any grudge against you."
+
+She stirred her remaining coffee and then took a small sip. Gervaise,
+with her heart in her throat, wondered if Virginie had really forgiven
+her as completely as she said, for she seemed to observe sparks in her
+dark eyes.
+
+"You see," Virginie went on, "you had an excuse. They played a really
+rotten, dirty trick on you. To be fair about it, if it had been me, I'd
+have taken a knife to her."
+
+She drank another small sip, then added rapidly without a pause:
+
+"Anyway, it didn't bring them happiness, _mon Dieu_! Not a bit of it.
+They went to live over at La Glaciere, in a filthy street that was
+always muddy. I went two days later to have lunch with them. I can tell
+you, it was quite a trip by bus. Well, I found them already fighting.
+Really, as I came in they were boxing each other's ears. Fine pair of
+love birds! Adele isn't worth the rope to hang her. I say that even if
+she is my own sister. It would take too long to relate all the nasty
+tricks she played on me, and anyhow, it's between the two of us. As
+for Lantier--well, he's no good either. He'd beat the hide off you for
+anything, and with his fist closed too. They fought all the time. The
+police even came once."
+
+Virginie went on about other fights. Oh, she knew of things that would
+make your hair stand up. Gervaise listened in silence, her face pale.
+It was nearly seven years since she had heard a word about Lantier. She
+hadn't realized what a strong curiosity she had as to what had become of
+the poor man, even though he had treated her badly. And she never would
+have believed that just the mention of his name could put such a glowing
+warmth in the pit of her stomach. She certainly had no reason to be
+jealous of Adele any more but she rejoiced to think of her body all
+bruised from the beatings. She could have listened to Virginie all
+night, but she didn't ask any questions, not wanting to appear much
+interested.
+
+Virginie stopped to sip at her coffee. Gervaise, realizing that she was
+expected to say something, asked, with a pretence of indifference:
+
+"Are they still living at La Glaciere?"
+
+"No!" the other replied. "Didn't I tell you? They separated last week.
+One morning, Adele moved out and Lantier didn't chase after her."
+
+"So they're separated!" Gervaise exclaimed.
+
+"Who are you talking about?" Clemence asked, interrupting her
+conversation with mother Coupeau and Madame Putois.
+
+"Nobody you know," said Virginie.
+
+She was looking at Gervaise carefully and could see that she was upset.
+She moved still closer, maliciously finding pleasure in bringing up
+these old stories. Of a sudden she asked Gervaise what she would do
+if Lantier came round here. Men were really such strange creatures, he
+might decide to return to his first love. This caused Gervaise to sit
+up very straight and dignified. She was a married woman; she would send
+Lantier off immediately. There was no possibility of anything further
+between them, not even a handshake. She would not even want to look that
+man in the face.
+
+"I know that Etienne is his son, and that's a relationship that
+remains," she said. "If Lantier wants to see his son, I'll send the boy
+to him because you can't stop a father from seeing his child. But as for
+myself, I don't want him to touch me even with the tip of his finger.
+That is all finished."
+
+Desiring to break off this conversation, she seemed to awake with a
+start and called out to the women:
+
+"You ladies! Do you think all these clothes are going to iron
+themselves? Get to work!"
+
+The workwomen, slow from the heat and general laziness, didn't hurry
+themselves, but went right on talking, gossiping about other people they
+had known.
+
+Gervaise shook herself and got to her feet. Couldn't earn money by
+sitting all day. She was the first to return to the ironing, but found
+that her curtains had been spotted by the coffee and she had to rub out
+the stains with a damp cloth. The other women were now stretching and
+getting ready to begin ironing.
+
+Clemence had a terrible attack of coughing as soon as she moved. Finally
+she was able to return to the shirt she had been doing. Madame Putois
+began to work on the petticoat again.
+
+"Well, good-bye," said Virginie. "I only came out for a quarter-pound of
+Swiss cheese. Poisson must think I've frozen to death on the way."
+
+She had only just stepped outside when she turned back to say that
+Augustine was at the end of the street, sliding on the ice with some
+urchins. The squint-eyed imp rushed in all red-faced and out of breath
+with snow all in her hair. She didn't mind the scolding she received,
+merely saying that she hadn't been able to walk fast because of the ice
+and then some brats threw snow at her.
+
+The afternoons were all the same these winter days. The laundry was the
+refuge for anyone in the neighborhood who was cold. There was an endless
+procession of gossiping women. Gervaise took pride in the comforting
+warmth of her shop and welcomed those who came in, "holding a salon," as
+the Lorilleuxs and the Boches remarked meanly.
+
+Gervaise was always thoughtful and generous. Sometimes she even invited
+poor people in if she saw them shivering outside. A friendship sprang up
+with an elderly house-painter who was seventy. He lived in an attic room
+and was slowly dying of cold and hunger. His three sons had been killed
+in the war. He survived the best he could, but it had been two years
+since he had been able to hold a paint-brush in his hand. Whenever
+Gervaise saw Pere Bru walking outside, she would call him in and arrange
+a place for him close to the stove. Often she gave him some bread and
+cheese. Pere Bru's face was as wrinkled as a withered apple. He would
+sit there, with his stooping shoulders and his white beard, without
+saying a word, just listening to the coke sputtering in the stove. Maybe
+he was thinking of his fifty years of hard work on high ladders, his
+fifty years spent painting doors and whitewashing ceilings in every
+corner of Paris.
+
+"Well, Pere Bru," Gervaise would say, "what are you thinking of now?"
+
+"Nothing much. All sorts of things," he would answer quietly.
+
+The workwomen tried to joke with him to cheer him up, saying he was
+worrying over his love affairs, but he scarcely listened to them before
+he fell back into his habitual attitude of meditative melancholy.
+
+Virginie now frequently spoke to Gervaise of Lantier. She seemed to find
+amusement in filling her mind with ideas of her old lover just for the
+pleasure of embarrassing her by making suggestions. One day she related
+that she had met him; then, as the laundress took no notice, she said
+nothing further, and it was only on the morrow that she added he had
+spoken about her for a long time, and with a great show of affection.
+Gervaise was much upset by these reports whispered in her ear in a
+corner of the shop. The mention of Lantier's name always caused a
+worried sensation in the pit of her stomach. She certainly thought
+herself strong; she wished to lead the life of an industrious woman,
+because labor is the half of happiness. So she never considered Coupeau
+in this matter, having nothing to reproach herself with as regarded her
+husband, not even in her thoughts. But with a hesitating and suffering
+heart, she would think of the blacksmith. It seemed to her that the
+memory of Lantier--that slow possession which she was resuming--rendered
+her unfaithful to Goujet, to their unavowed love, sweet as friendship.
+She passed sad days whenever she felt herself guilty towards her good
+friend. She would have liked to have had no affection for anyone but him
+outside of her family. It was a feeling far above all carnal thoughts,
+for the signs of which upon her burning face Virginie was ever on the
+watch.
+
+As soon as spring came Gervaise often went and sought refuge with
+Goujet. She could no longer sit musing on a chair without immediately
+thinking of her first lover; she pictured him leaving Adele, packing his
+clothes in the bottom of their old trunk, and returning to her in a cab.
+The days when she went out, she was seized with the most foolish fears
+in the street; she was ever thinking she heard Lantier's footsteps
+behind her. She did not dare turn round, but tremblingly fancied she
+felt his hands seizing her round the waist. He was, no doubt, spying
+upon her; he would appear before her some afternoon; and the bare idea
+threw her into a cold perspiration, because he would to a certainty kiss
+her on the ear, as he used to do in former days solely to tease her. It
+was this kiss which frightened her; it rendered her deaf beforehand; it
+filled her with a buzzing amidst which she could only distinguish the
+sound of her heart beating violently. So, as soon as these fears
+seized upon her, the forge was her only shelter; there, under Goujet's
+protection, she once more became easy and smiling, as his sonorous
+hammer drove away her disagreeable reflections.
+
+What a happy time! The laundress took particular pains with the washing
+of her customer in the Rue des Portes-Blanches; she always took it
+home herself because that errand, every Friday, was a ready excuse for
+passing through the Rue Marcadet and looking in at the forge. The moment
+she turned the corner of the street she felt light and gay, as though in
+the midst of those plots of waste land surrounded by grey factories, she
+were out in the country; the roadway black with coal-dust, the plumage
+of steam over the roofs, amused her as much as a moss-covered path
+leading through masses of green foliage in a wood in the environs; and
+she loved the dull horizon, streaked by the tall factory-chimneys, the
+Montmartre heights, which hid the heavens from view, the chalky white
+houses pierced with the uniform openings of their windows. She would
+slacken her steps as she drew near, jumping over the pools of water, and
+finding a pleasure in traversing the deserted ins and outs of the yard
+full of old building materials. Right at the further end the forge shone
+with a brilliant light, even at mid-day. Her heart leapt with the dance
+of the hammers. When she entered, her face turned quite red, the little
+fair hairs at the nape of her neck flew about like those of a woman
+arriving at some lovers' meeting. Goujet was expecting her, his arms and
+chest bare, whilst he hammered harder on the anvil on those days so
+as to make himself heard at a distance. He divined her presence, and
+greeted her with a good silent laugh in his yellow beard. But she would
+not let him leave off his work; she begged him to take up his hammer
+again, because she loved him the more when he wielded it with his big
+arms swollen with muscles. She would go and give Etienne a gentle tap
+on the cheek, as he hung on to the bellows, and then remain for an hour
+watching the rivets.
+
+The two did not exchange a dozen words. They could not have more
+completely satisfied their love if alone in a room with the
+door double-locked. The snickering of Salted-Mouth, otherwise
+Drink-without-Thirst, did not bother them in the least, for they no
+longer even heard him. At the end of a quarter of an hour she would
+begin to feel slightly oppressed; the heat, the powerful smell, the
+ascending smoke, made her dizzy, whilst the dull thuds of the hammers
+shook her from the crown of her head to the soles of her feet. Then she
+desired nothing more; it was her pleasure. Had Goujet pressed her in his
+arms it would not have procured her so sweet an emotion. She drew close
+to him that she might feel the wind raised by his hammer beat upon her
+cheek, and become, as it were, a part of the blow he struck. When the
+sparks made her soft hands smart, she did not withdraw them; on the
+contrary, she enjoyed the rain of fire which stung her skin. He for
+certain, divined the happiness which she tasted there; he always kept
+the most difficult work for the Fridays, so as to pay his court to her
+with all his strength and all his skill; he no longer spared himself
+at the risk of splitting the anvils in two, as he panted and his loins
+vibrated with the joy he was procuring her. All one spring-time their
+love thus filled Goujet with the rumbling of a storm. It was an idyll
+amongst giant-like labor in the midst of the glare of the coal fire, and
+of the shaking of the shed, the cracking carcass of which was black with
+soot. All that beaten iron, kneaded like red wax, preserved the rough
+marks of their love. When on the Fridays the laundress parted from
+Golden-Mug, she slowly reascended the Rue des Poissonniers, contented
+and tired, her mind and her body alike tranquil.
+
+Little by little, her fear of Lantier diminished; her good sense got the
+better of her. At that time she would still have led a happy life, had
+it not been for Coupeau, who was decidedly going to the bad. One day
+she just happened to be returning from the forge, when she fancied she
+recognized Coupeau inside Pere Colombe's l'Assommoir, in the act of
+treating himself to a round of vitriol in the company of My-Boots,
+Bibi-the-Smoker, and Salted-Mouth, otherwise Drink-without-Thirst.
+She passed quickly by, so as not to seem to be spying on them. But she
+glanced back; it was indeed Coupeau who was tossing his little glass
+of bad brandy down his throat with a gesture already familiar. He lied
+then; so he went in for brandy now! She returned home in despair; all
+her old dread of brandy took possession of her. She forgave the
+wine, because wine nourishes the workman; all kinds of spirit, on the
+contrary, were filth, poisons which destroyed in the workman the taste
+for bread. Ah! the government ought to prevent the manufacture of such
+horrid stuff!
+
+On arriving at the Rue de la Goutte-d'Or, she found the whole house
+upset. Her workwomen had left the shop, and were in the courtyard
+looking up above. She questioned Clemence.
+
+"It's old Bijard who's giving his wife a hiding," replied the ironer.
+"He was in the doorway, as drunk as a trooper, watching for her
+return from the wash-house. He whacked her up the stairs, and now he's
+finishing her off up there in their room. Listen, can't you hear her
+shrieks?"
+
+Gervaise hastened to the spot. She felt some friendship for her
+washer-woman, Madame Bijard, who was a very courageous woman. She had
+hoped to put a stop to what was going on. Upstairs, on the sixth floor
+the door of the room was wide open, some lodgers were shouting on the
+landing, whilst Madame Boche, standing in front of the door, was calling
+out:
+
+"Will you leave off? I shall send for the police; do you hear?"
+
+No one dared to venture inside the room, because it was known that
+Bijard was like a brute beast when he was drunk. As a matter of fact, he
+was scarcely ever sober. The rare days on which he worked, he placed a
+bottle of brandy beside his blacksmith's vise, gulping some of it down
+every half hour. He could not keep himself going any other way. He would
+have blazed away like a torch if anyone had placed a lighted match close
+to his mouth.
+
+"But we mustn't let her be murdered!" said Gervaise, all in a tremble.
+
+And she entered. The room, an attic, and very clean, was bare and cold,
+almost emptied by the drunken habits of the man, who took the very
+sheets from the bed to turn them into liquor. During the struggle the
+table had rolled away to the window, the two chairs, knocked over, had
+fallen with their legs in the air. In the middle of the room, on the
+tile floor, lay Madame Bijard, all bloody, her skirts, still soaked with
+the water of the wash-house, clinging to her thighs, her hair straggling
+in disorder. She was breathing heavily, with a rattle in her throat, as
+she muttered prolonged ohs! each time she received a blow from the heel
+of Bijard's boot. He had knocked her down with his fists, and now he
+stamped upon her.
+
+"Ah, strumpet! Ah, strumpet! Ah strumpet!" grunted he in a choking
+voice, accompanying each blow with the word, taking a delight in
+repeating it, and striking all the harder the more he found his voice
+failing him.
+
+Then when he could no longer speak, he madly continued to kick with
+a dull sound, rigid in his ragged blue blouse and overalls, his face
+turned purple beneath his dirty beard, and his bald forehead streaked
+with big red blotches. The neighbors on the landing related that he
+was beating her because she had refused him twenty sous that morning.
+Boche's voice was heard at the foot of the staircase. He was calling
+Madame Boche, saying:
+
+"Come down; let them kill each other, it'll be so much scum the less."
+
+Meanwhile, Pere Bru had followed Gervaise into the room. Between them
+they were trying to get him towards the door. But he turned round,
+speechless and foaming at the lips, and in his pale eyes the alcohol was
+blazing with a murderous glare. The laundress had her wrist injured; the
+old workman was knocked against the table. On the floor, Madame Bijard
+was breathing with greater difficulty, her mouth wide open, her eyes
+closed. Now Bijard kept missing her. He had madly returned to the
+attack, but blinded by rage, his blows fell on either side, and at
+times he almost fell when his kicks went into space. And during all this
+onslaught, Gervaise beheld in a corner of the room little Lalie, then
+four years old, watching her father murdering her mother. The child
+held in her arms, as though to protect her, her sister Henriette, only
+recently weaned. She was standing up, her head covered with a cotton
+cap, her face very pale and grave. Her large black eyes gazed with a
+fixedness full of thought and were without a tear.
+
+When at length Bijard, running against a chair, stumbled onto the tiled
+floor, where they left him snoring, Pere Bru helped Gervaise to raise
+Madame Bijard. The latter was now sobbing bitterly; and Lalie, drawing
+near, watched her crying, being used to such sights and already resigned
+to them. As the laundress descended the stairs, in the silence of the
+now quieted house, she kept seeing before her that look of this child of
+four, as grave and courageous as that of a woman.
+
+"Monsieur Coupeau is on the other side of the street," called out
+Clemence as soon as she caught sight of her. "He looks awfully drunk."
+
+Coupeau was just then crossing the street. He almost smashed a pane
+of glass with his shoulder as he missed the door. He was in a state of
+complete drunkenness, with his teeth clinched and his nose inflamed. And
+Gervaise at once recognized the vitriol of l'Assommoir in the poisoned
+blood which paled his skin. She tried to joke and get him to bed, the
+same as on the days when the wine had made him merry; but he pushed her
+aside without opening his lips, and raised his fist in passing as he
+went to bed of his own accord. He made Gervaise think of the other--the
+drunkard who was snoring upstairs, tired out by the blows he had struck.
+A cold shiver passed over her. She thought of the men she knew--of her
+husband, of Goujet, of Lantier--her heart breaking, despairing of ever
+being happy.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VII.
+
+Gervaise's saint's day fell on the 19th of June. On such occasions, the
+Coupeaus always made a grand display; they feasted till they were as
+round as balls, and their stomachs were filled for the rest of the week.
+There was a complete clear out of all the money they had. The moment
+there were a few sous in the house they went in gorging. They invented
+saints for those days which the almanac had not provided with any, just
+for the sake of giving themselves a pretext for gormandizing. Virginie
+highly commended Gervaise for stuffing herself with all sorts of savory
+dishes. When one has a husband who turns all he can lay hands on into
+drink, it's good to line one's stomach well, and not to let everything
+go off in liquids. Since the money would disappear anyway, surely it was
+better to pay it to the butcher. Gervaise used that excuse to justify
+overeating, saying it was Coupeau's fault if they could no longer save a
+sou. She had grown considerably fatter, and she limped more than before
+because her leg, now swollen with fat, seemed to be getting gradually
+shorter.
+
+That year they talked about her saint's day a good month beforehand.
+They thought of dishes and smacked their lips in advance. All the shop
+had a confounded longing to junket. They wanted a merry-making of the
+right sort--something out of the ordinary and highly successful. One
+does not have so many opportunities for enjoyment. What most troubled
+the laundress was to decide whom to invite; she wished to have twelve
+persons at table, no more, no less. She, her husband, mother Coupeau,
+and Madame Lerat, already made four members of the family. She would
+also have the Goujets and the Poissons. Originally, she had decided not
+to invite her workwomen, Madame Putois and Clemence, so as not to make
+them too familiar; but as the projected feast was being constantly
+spoken of in their presence, and their mouths watered, she ended by
+telling them to come. Four and four, eight, and two are ten. Then,
+wishing particularly to have twelve, she became reconciled with the
+Lorilleuxs, who for some time past had been hovering around her; at
+least it was agreed that the Lorilleuxs should come to dinner, and that
+peace should be made with glasses in hand. You really shouldn't
+keep family quarrels going forever. When the Boches heard that a
+reconciliation was planned, they also sought to make up with Gervaise,
+and so they had to be invited to the dinner too. That would make
+fourteen, not counting the children. Never before had she given such
+a large dinner and the thought frightened and excited her at the same
+time.
+
+The saint's day happened to fall on a Monday. It was a piece of luck.
+Gervaise counted on the Sunday afternoon to begin the cooking. On the
+Saturday, whilst the workwomen hurried with their work, there was a long
+discussion in the shop with the view of finally deciding upon what the
+feast should consist of. For three weeks past one thing alone had been
+chosen--a fat roast goose. There was a gluttonous look on every face
+whenever it was mentioned. The goose was even already bought. Mother
+Coupeau went and fetched it to let Clemence and Madame Putois feel its
+weight. And they uttered all kinds of exclamations; it looked such an
+enormous bird, with its rough skin all swelled out with yellow fat.
+
+"Before that there will be the pot-au-feu," said Gervaise, "the soup and
+just a small piece of boiled beef, it's always good. Then we must have
+something in the way of a stew."
+
+Tall Clemence suggested rabbit, but they were always having that,
+everyone was sick of it. Gervaise wanted something more distinguished.
+Madame Putois having spoken of stewed veal, they looked at one another
+with broad smiles. It was a real idea, nothing would make a better
+impression than a veal stew.
+
+"And after that," resumed Gervaise, "we must have some other dish with a
+sauce."
+
+Mother Coupeau proposed fish. But the others made a grimace, as they
+banged down their irons. None of them liked fish; it was not a
+bit satisfying; and besides that it was full of bones. Squint-eyed
+Augustine, having dared to observe that she liked skate, Clemence
+shut her mouth for her with a good sound clout. At length the mistress
+thought of stewed pig's back and potatoes, which restored the smiles
+to every countenance. Then Virginie entered like a puff of wind, with a
+strange look on her face.
+
+"You've come just at the right time!" exclaimed Gervaise. "Mother
+Coupeau, do show her the bird."
+
+And mother Coupeau went a second time and fetched the goose, which
+Virginie had to take in her hands. She uttered no end of exclamations.
+By Jove! It was heavy! But she soon laid it down on the work-table,
+between a petticoat and a bundle of shirts. Her thoughts were elsewhere.
+She dragged Gervaise into the back-room.
+
+"I say, little one," murmured she rapidly, "I've come to warn you.
+You'll never guess who I just met at the corner of the street. Lantier,
+my dear! He's hovering about on the watch; so I hastened here at once.
+It frightened me on your account, you know."
+
+The laundress turned quite pale. What could the wretched man want with
+her? Coming, too, like that, just in the midst of the preparations for
+the feast. She had never had any luck; she could not even be allowed to
+enjoy herself quietly. But Virginie replied that she was very foolish to
+put herself out about it like that. Why! If Lantier dared to follow her
+about, all she had to do was to call a policeman and have him locked up.
+In the month since her husband had been appointed a policeman, Virginie
+had assumed rather lordly manners and talked of arresting everybody. She
+began to raise her voice, saying that she wished some passer-by would
+pinch her bottom so that she could take the fresh fellow to the police
+station herself and turn him over to her husband. Gervaise signaled her
+to be quiet since the workwomen were listening and led the way back into
+the shop, reopening the discussion about the dinner.
+
+"Now, don't we need a vegetable?"
+
+"Why not peas with bacon?" said Virginie. "I like nothing better."
+
+"Yes, peas with bacon." The others approved. Augustine was so
+enthusiastic that she jabbed the poker into the stove harder than ever.
+
+By three o'clock on the morrow, Sunday, mother Coupeau had lighted their
+two stoves and also a third one of earthenware which they had borrowed
+from the Boches. At half-past three the pot-au-feu was boiling away in
+an enormous earthenware pot lent by the eating-house keeper next door,
+the family pot having been found too small. They had decided to cook the
+veal and the pig's back the night before, since both of those dishes
+are better when reheated. But the cream sauce for the veal would not be
+prepared until just before sitting down for the feast.
+
+There was still plenty of work left for Monday: the soup, the peas with
+bacon, the roast goose. The inner room was lit by three fires. Butter
+was sizzling in the pans and emitting a sharp odor of burnt flour.
+
+Mother Coupeau and Gervaise, with white aprons tied on, were bustling
+all around, cleaning parsley, dashing for salt and pepper, turning the
+meat. They had sent Coupeau away so as not to have him underfoot, but
+they still had plenty of people looking in throughout the afternoon. The
+luscious smells from the kitchen had spread through the entire building
+so that neighboring ladies came into the shop on various pretexts, very
+curious to see what was being cooked.
+
+Virginie put in an appearance towards five o'clock. She had again seen
+Lantier; really, it was impossible to go down the street now without
+meeting him. Madame Boche also had just caught sight of him standing at
+the corner of the pavement with his head thrust forward in an uncommonly
+sly manner. Then Gervaise who had at that moment intended going for a
+sou's worth of burnt onions for the pot-au-feu, began to tremble from
+head to foot and did not dare leave the house; the more so, as the
+concierge and the dressmaker put her into a terrible fright by relating
+horrible stories of men waiting for women with knives and pistols hidden
+beneath their overcoats. Well, yes! one reads of such things every day
+in the newspapers. When one of those scoundrels gets his monkey up
+on discovering an old love leading a happy life he becomes capable
+of everything. Virginie obligingly offered to run and fetch the burnt
+onions. Women should always help one another, they could not let that
+little thing be murdered. When she returned she said that Lantier was no
+longer there; he had probably gone off on finding he was discovered.
+In spite of that thought, he was the subject of conversation around
+the saucepans until night-time. When Madame Boche advised her to inform
+Coupeau, Gervaise became really terrified, and implored her not to say
+a word about it. Oh, yes, wouldn't that be a nice situation! Her husband
+must have become suspicious already because for the last few days, at
+night, he would swear to himself and bang the wall with his fists. The
+mere thought that the two men might destroy each other because of her
+made her shudder. She knew that Coupeau was jealous enough to attack
+Lantier with his shears.
+
+While the four of them had been deep in contemplating this drama, the
+saucepans on the banked coals of the stoves had been quietly simmering.
+When mother Coupeau lifted the lids, the veal and the pig's back
+were discreetly bubbling. The pot-au-feu was steadily steaming with
+snore-like sounds. Eventually each of them dipped a piece of bread into
+the soup to taste the bouillon.
+
+At length Monday arrived. Now that Gervaise was going to have fourteen
+persons at table, she began to fear that she would not be able to find
+room for them all. She decided that they should dine in the shop; and
+the first thing in the morning she took measurements so as to settle
+which way she should place the table. After that they had to remove all
+the clothes and take the ironing-table to pieces; the top of this laid
+on to some shorter trestles was to be the dining-table. But just in the
+midst of all this moving a customer appeared and made a scene because
+she had been waiting for her washing ever since the Friday; they were
+humbugging her, she would have her things at once. Then Gervaise
+tried to excuse herself and lied boldly; it was not her fault, she was
+cleaning out her shop, the workmen would not be there till the morrow;
+and she pacified her customer and got rid of her by promising to busy
+herself with her things at the earliest possible moment. Then, as soon
+as the woman had left, she showed her temper. Really, if you listened
+to all your customers, you'd never have time to eat. You could work
+yourself to death like a dog on a leash! Well! No matter who came in
+to-day, even if they offered one hundred thousand francs, she wouldn't
+touch an iron on this Monday, because it was her turn to enjoy herself.
+
+The entire morning was spent in completing the purchases. Three times
+Gervaise went out and returned laden like a mule. But just as she was
+going to order wine she noticed that she had not sufficient money left.
+She could easily have got it on credit; only she could not be without
+money in the house, on account of the thousand little expenses that one
+is liable to forget. And mother Coupeau and she had lamented together
+in the back-room as they reckoned that they required at least twenty
+francs. How could they obtain them, those four pieces of a hundred sous
+each? Mother Coupeau who had at one time done the charring for a little
+actress of the Theatre des Batignolles, was the first to suggest the
+pawn-shop. Gervaise laughed with relief. How stupid she was not to have
+thought of it! She quickly folded her black silk dress upon a towel
+which she then pinned together. Then she hid the bundle under mother
+Coupeau's apron, telling her to keep it very flat against her stomach,
+on account of the neighbors who had no need to know; and she went and
+watched at the door to see that the old woman was not followed. But the
+latter had only gone as far as the charcoal dealer's when she called her
+back.
+
+"Mamma! Mamma!"
+
+She made her return to the shop, and taking her wedding-ring off her
+finger said:
+
+"Here, put this with it. We shall get all the more."
+
+When mother Coupeau brought her twenty-five francs, she danced for joy.
+She would order an extra six bottles of wine, sealed wine to drink with
+the roast. The Lorilleuxs would be crushed.
+
+For a fortnight past it had been the Coupeaus' dream to crush the
+Lorilleuxs. Was it not true that those sly ones, the man and his wife, a
+truly pretty couple, shut themselves up whenever they had anything nice
+to eat as though they had stolen it? Yes, they covered up the window
+with a blanket to hide the light and make believe that they were already
+asleep in bed. This stopped anyone from coming up, and so the Lorilleuxs
+could stuff everything down, just the two of them. They were even
+careful the next day not to throw the bones into the garbage so that no
+one would know what they had eaten. Madame Lorilleux would walk to
+the end of the street to toss them into a sewer opening. One morning
+Gervaise surprised her emptying a basket of oyster shells there.
+Oh, those penny-pinchers were never open-handed, and all their mean
+contrivances came from their desire to appear to be poor. Well, we'd
+show them, we'd prove to them that we weren't mean.
+
+Gervaise would have laid her table in the street, had she been able to,
+just for the sake of inviting each passer-by. Money was not invented
+that it should be allowed to grow moldy, was it? It is pretty when it
+shines all new in the sunshine. She resembled them so little now, that
+on the days when she had twenty sous she arranged things to let people
+think that she had forty.
+
+Mother Coupeau and Gervaise talked of the Lorilleuxs whilst they laid
+the cloth about three o'clock. They had hung some big curtains at the
+windows; but as it was very warm the door was left open and the whole
+street passed in front of the little table. The two women did not place
+a decanter, or a bottle, or a salt-cellar, without trying to arrange
+them in such a way as to annoy the Lorilleuxs. They had arranged their
+seats so as to give them a full view of the superbly laid cloth, and
+they had reserved the best crockery for them, well knowing that the
+porcelain plates would create a great effect.
+
+"No, no, mamma," cried Gervaise; "don't give them those napkins! I've
+two damask ones."
+
+"Ah, good!" murmured the old woman; "that'll break their hearts, that's
+certain."
+
+And they smiled to each other as they stood up on either side of that
+big white table on which the fourteen knives and forks, placed all
+round, caused them to swell with pride. It had the appearance of the
+altar of some chapel in the middle of the shop.
+
+"That's because they're so stingy themselves!" resumed Gervaise. "You
+know they lied last month when the woman went about everywhere saying
+that she had lost a piece of gold chain as she was taking the work home.
+The idea! There's no fear of her ever losing anything! It was simply a
+way of making themselves out very poor and of not giving you your five
+francs."
+
+"As yet I've only seen my five francs twice," said mother Coupeau.
+
+"I'll bet next month they'll concoct some other story. That explains
+why they cover their window up when they have a rabbit to eat. Don't
+you see? One would have the right to say to them: 'As you can afford a
+rabbit you can certainly give five francs to your mother!' Oh! they're
+just rotten! What would have become of you if I hadn't taken you to live
+with us?"
+
+Mother Coupeau slowly shook her head. That day she was all against the
+Lorilleuxs, because of the great feast the Coupeaus were giving. She
+loved cooking, the little gossipings round the saucepans, the place
+turned topsy-turvy by the revels of saints' days. Besides she generally
+got on pretty well with Gervaise. On other days when they plagued one
+another as happens in all families, the old woman grumbled saying she
+was wretchedly unfortunate in thus being at her daughter-in-law's mercy.
+In point of fact she probably had some affection for Madame Lorilleux
+who after all was her daughter.
+
+"Ah!" continued Gervaise, "you wouldn't be so fat, would you, if you
+were living with them? And no coffee, no snuff, no little luxuries of
+any sort! Tell me, would they have given you two mattresses to your
+bed?"
+
+"No, that's very certain," replied mother Coupeau. "When they arrive
+I shall place myself so as to have a good view of the door to see the
+faces they'll make."
+
+Thinking of the faces they would make gave them pleasure ahead of time.
+However, they couldn't remain standing there admiring the table. The
+Coupeaus had lunched very late on just a bite or two, because the stoves
+were already in use, and because they did not want to dirty any dishes
+needed for the evening. By four o'clock the two women were working very
+hard. The huge goose was being cooked on a spit. Squint-eyed
+Augustine was sitting on a low bench solemnly basting the goose with a
+long-handled spoon. Gervaise was busy with the peas with bacon. Mother
+Coupeau, kept spinning around, a bit confused, waiting for the right
+time to begin reheating the pork and the veal.
+
+Towards five o'clock the guests began to arrive. First of all came the
+two workwomen, Clemence and Madame Putois, both in their Sunday best,
+the former in blue, the latter in black; Clemence carried a geranium,
+Madame Putois a heliotrope, and Gervaise, whose hands were just then
+smothered with flour, had to kiss each of them on both cheeks with her
+arms behind her back. Then following close upon their heels entered
+Virginie dressed like a lady in a printed muslin costume with a sash and
+a bonnet though she had only a few steps to come. She brought a pot of
+red carnations. She took the laundress in her big arms and squeezed her
+tight. At length Boche appeared with a pot of pansies and Madame Boche
+with a pot of mignonette; then came Madame Lerat with a balm-mint,
+the pot of which had dirtied her violet merino dress. All these people
+kissed each other and gathered together in the back-room in the midst of
+the three stoves and the roasting apparatus, which gave out a stifling
+heat. The noise from the saucepans drowned the voices. A dress catching
+in the Dutch oven caused quite an emotion. The smell of roast goose
+was so strong that it made their mouths water. And Gervaise was very
+pleasant, thanking everyone for their flowers without however letting
+that interfere with her preparing the thickening for the stewed veal at
+the bottom of a soup plate. She had placed the pots in the shop at one
+end of the table without removing the white paper that was round them. A
+sweet scent of flowers mingled with the odor of cooking.
+
+"Do you want any assistance?" asked Virginie. "Just fancy, you've been
+three days preparing all this feast and it will be gobbled up in no
+time."
+
+"Well, you know," replied Gervaise, "it wouldn't prepare itself. No,
+don't dirty your hands. You see everything's ready. There's only the
+soup to warm."
+
+Then they all made themselves comfortable. The ladies laid their shawls
+and their caps on the bed and pinned up their skirts so as not to soil
+them. Boche sent his wife back to the concierge's lodge until time to
+eat and had cornered Clemence in a corner trying to find out if she
+was ticklish. She was gasping for breath, as the mere thought of being
+tickled sent shivers through her. So as not to bother the cooks, the
+other ladies had gone into the shop and were standing against the wall
+facing the table. They were talking through the door though, and as they
+could not hear very well, they were continually invading the back-room
+and crowding around Gervaise, who would forget what she was doing to
+answer them.
+
+There were a few stories which brought sly laughter. When Virginie
+mentioned that she hadn't eaten for two days in order to have more room
+for today's feast, tall Clemence said that she had cleaned herself out
+that morning with an enema like the English do. Then Boche suggested
+a way of digesting the food quickly by squeezing oneself after each
+course, another English custom. After all, when you were invited to
+dinner, wasn't it polite to eat as much as you could? Veal and pork and
+goose are placed out for the cats to eat. The hostess didn't need to
+worry a bit, they were going to clean their plates so thoroughly that
+she wouldn't have to wash them.
+
+All of them kept coming to smell the air above the saucepans and the
+roaster. The ladies began to act like young girls, scurrying from room
+to room and pushing each other.
+
+Just as they were all jumping about and shouting by way of amusement,
+Goujet appeared. He was so timid he scarcely dared enter, but stood
+still, holding a tall white rose-tree in his arms, a magnificent plant
+with a stem that reached to his face and entangled the flowers in his
+beard. Gervaise ran to him, her cheeks burning from the heat of the
+stoves. But he did not know how to get rid of his pot; and when she had
+taken it from his hands he stammered, not daring to kiss her. It was
+she who was obliged to stand on tip-toe and place her cheek against his
+lips; he was so agitated that even then he kissed her roughly on the eye
+almost blinding her. They both stood trembling.
+
+"Oh! Monsieur Goujet, it's too lovely!" said she, placing the rose-tree
+beside the other flowers which it overtopped with the whole of its tuft
+of foliage.
+
+"Not at all, not at all!" repeated he, unable to say anything else.
+
+Then, after sighing deeply, he slightly recovered himself and stated
+that she was not to expect his mother; she was suffering from an attack
+of sciatica. Gervaise was greatly grieved; she talked of putting a piece
+of the goose on one side as she particularly wished Madame Goujet to
+have a taste of the bird. No one else was expected. Coupeau was no doubt
+strolling about in the neighborhood with Poisson whom he had called for
+directly after his lunch; they would be home directly, they had promised
+to be back punctually at six. Then as the soup was almost ready,
+Gervaise called to Madame Lerat, saying that she thought it was time to
+go and fetch the Lorilleuxs. Madame Lerat became at once very grave; it
+was she who had conducted all the negotiations and who had settled how
+everything should pass between the two families. She put her cap and
+shawl on again and went upstairs very stiffly in her skirts, looking
+very stately. Down below the laundress continued to stir her vermicelli
+soup without saying a word. The guests suddenly became serious and
+solemnly waited.
+
+It was Madame Lerat who appeared first. She had gone round by the street
+so as to give more pomp to the reconciliation. She held the shop-door
+wide open whilst Madame Lorilleux, wearing a silk dress, stopped at
+the threshold. All the guests had risen from their seats; Gervaise went
+forward and kissing her sister-in-law as had been agreed, said:
+
+"Come in. It's all over, isn't it? We'll both be nice to each other."
+
+And Madame Lorilleux replied:
+
+"I shall be only too happy if we're so always."
+
+When she had entered Lorilleux also stopped at the threshold and he
+likewise waited to be embraced before penetrating into the shop. Neither
+the one nor the other had brought a bouquet. They had decided not to do
+so as they thought it would look too much like giving way to Clump-clump
+if they carried flowers with them the first time they set foot in her
+home. Gervaise called to Augustine to bring two bottles of wine. Then,
+filling some glasses on a corner of the table, she called everyone
+to her. And each took a glass and drank to the good friendship of the
+family. There was a pause whilst the guests were drinking, the ladies
+raising their elbows and emptying their glasses to the last drop.
+
+"Nothing is better before soup," declared Boche, smacking his lips.
+
+Mother Coupeau had placed herself opposite the door to see the faces the
+Lorilleuxs would make. She pulled Gervaise by the skirt and dragged her
+into the back-room. And as they both leant over the soup they conversed
+rapidly in a low voice.
+
+"Huh! What a sight!" said the old woman. "You couldn't see them; but I
+was watching. When she caught sight of the table her face twisted around
+like that, the corners of her mouth almost touched her eyes; and as for
+him, it nearly choked him, he coughed and coughed. Now just look at
+them over there; they've no saliva left in their mouths, they're chewing
+their lips."
+
+"It's quite painful to see people as jealous as that," murmured
+Gervaise.
+
+Really the Lorilleuxs had a funny look about them. No one of course
+likes to be crushed; in families especially when the one succeeds, the
+others do not like it; that is only natural. Only one keeps it in, one
+does not make an exhibition of oneself. Well! The Lorilleuxs could not
+keep it in. It was more than a match for them. They squinted--their
+mouths were all on one side. In short it was so apparent that the other
+guests looked at them, and asked them if they were unwell. Never would
+they be able to stomach this table with its fourteen place-settings, its
+white linen table cloth, its slices of bread cut in advance, all in the
+style of a first-class restaurant. Mme. Lorilleux went around the table,
+surreptitiously fingering the table cloth, tortured by the thought that
+it was a new one.
+
+"Everything's ready!" cried Gervaise as she reappeared with a smile, her
+arms bare and her little fair curls blowing over her temples.
+
+"If the boss would only come," resumed the laundress, "we might begin."
+
+"Ah, well!" said Madame Lorilleux, "the soup will be cold by then.
+Coupeau always forgets. You shouldn't have let him go off."
+
+It was already half-past six. Everything was burning now; the goose
+would be overdone. Then Gervaise, feeling quite dejected, talked
+of sending someone to all the wineshops in the neighborhood to find
+Coupeau. And as Goujet offered to go, she decided to accompany him.
+Virginie, anxious about her husband went also. The three of them,
+bareheaded, quite blocked up the pavement. The blacksmith who wore his
+frock-coat, had Gervaise on his left arm and Virginie on his right; he
+was doing the two-handled basket as he said; and it seemed to them such
+a funny thing to say that they stopped, unable to move their legs for
+laughing. They looked at themselves in the pork-butcher's glass and
+laughed more than ever. Beside Goujet, all in black, the two women
+looked like two speckled hens--the dressmaker in her muslin costume,
+sprinkled with pink flowers, the laundress in her white cambric dress
+with blue spots, her wrists bare, and wearing round her neck a little
+grey silk scarf tied in a bow. People turned round to see them pass,
+looking so fresh and lively, dressed in their Sunday best on a week day
+and jostling the crowd which hung about the Rue des Poissonniers, on
+that warm June evening. But it was not a question of amusing themselves.
+They went straight to the door of each wineshop, looked in and sought
+amongst the people standing before the counter. Had that animal Coupeau
+gone to the Arc de Triomphe to get his dram? They had already done the
+upper part of the street, looking in at all the likely places; at
+the "Little Civet," renowned for its preserved plums; at old mother
+Baquet's, who sold Orleans wine at eight sous; at the "Butterfly," the
+coachmen's house of call, gentlemen who were not easy to please. But no
+Coupeau. Then as they were going down towards the Boulevard, Gervaise
+uttered a faint cry on passing the eating-house at the corner kept by
+Francois.
+
+"What's the matter?" asked Goujet.
+
+The laundress no longer laughed. She was very pale, and laboring under
+so great an emotion that she had almost fallen. Virginie understood it
+all as she caught a sight of Lantier seated at one of Francois's tables
+quietly dining. The two women dragged the blacksmith along.
+
+"My ankle twisted," said Gervaise as soon as she was able to speak.
+
+At length they discovered Coupeau and Poisson at the bottom of the
+street inside Pere Colombe's l'Assommoir. They were standing up in the
+midst of a number of men; Coupeau, in a grey blouse, was shouting with
+furious gestures and banging his fists down on the counter. Poisson, not
+on duty that day and buttoned up in an old brown coat, was listening
+to him in a dull sort of way and without uttering a word, bristling his
+carroty moustaches and beard the while. Goujet left the women on the
+edge of the pavement, and went and laid his hand on the zinc-worker's
+shoulder. But when the latter caught sight of Gervaise and Virginie
+outside he grew angry. Why was he badgered with such females as those?
+Petticoats had taken to tracking him about now! Well! He declined to
+stir, they could go and eat their beastly dinner all by themselves. To
+quiet him Goujet was obliged to accept a drop of something; and even
+then Coupeau took a fiendish delight in dawdling a good five minutes at
+the counter. When he at length came out he said to his wife:
+
+"I don't like this. It's my business where I go. Do you understand?"
+
+She did not answer. She was all in a tremble. She must have said
+something about Lantier to Virginie, for the latter pushed her husband
+and Goujet ahead, telling them to walk in front. The two women got
+on each side of Coupeau to keep him occupied and prevent him seeing
+Lantier. He wasn't really drunk, being more intoxicated from shouting
+than from drinking. Since they seemed to want to stay on the left side,
+to tease them, he crossed over to the other side of the street.
+Worried, they ran after him and tried to block his view of the door of
+Francois's. But Coupeau must have known that Lantier was there. Gervaise
+almost went out of her senses on hearing him grunt:
+
+"Yes, my duck, there's a young fellow of our acquaintance inside there!
+You mustn't take me for a ninny. Don't let me catch you gallivanting
+about again with your side glances!"
+
+And he made use of some very coarse expressions. It was not him that she
+had come to look for with her bare elbows and her mealy mouth; it
+was her old beau. Then he was suddenly seized with a mad rage against
+Lantier. Ah! the brigand! Ah! the filthy hound! One or the other of
+them would have to be left on the pavement, emptied of his guts like a
+rabbit. Lantier, however, did not appear to notice what was going on
+and continued slowly eating some veal and sorrel. A crowd began to form.
+Virginie led Coupeau away and he calmed down at once as soon as he had
+turned the corner of the street. All the same they returned to the shop
+far less lively than when they left it.
+
+The guests were standing round the table with very long faces. The
+zinc-worker shook hands with them, showing himself off before the
+ladies. Gervaise, feeling rather depressed, spoke in a low voice as she
+directed them to their places. But she suddenly noticed that, as Madame
+Goujet had not come, a seat would remain empty--the one next to Madame
+Lorilleux.
+
+"We are thirteen!" said she, deeply affected, seeing in that a fresh
+omen of the misfortune with which she had felt herself threatened for
+some time past.
+
+The ladies already seated rose up looking anxious and annoyed. Madame
+Putois offered to retire because according to her it was not a matter to
+laugh about; besides she would not touch a thing, the food would do
+her no good. As to Boche, he chuckled. He would sooner be thirteen than
+fourteen; the portions would be larger, that was all.
+
+"Wait!" resumed Gervaise. "I can manage it."
+
+And going out on to the pavement she called Pere Bru who was just then
+crossing the roadway. The old workman entered, stooping and stiff and
+his face without expression.
+
+"Seat yourself there, my good fellow," said the laundress. "You won't
+mind eating with us, will you?"
+
+He simply nodded his head. He was willing; he did not mind.
+
+"As well him as another," continued she, lowering her voice. "He doesn't
+often eat his fill. He will at least enjoy himself once more. We shall
+feel no remorse in stuffing ourselves now."
+
+This touched Goujet so deeply that his eyes filled with tears. The
+others were also moved by compassion and said that it would bring them
+all good luck. However, Madame Lorilleux seemed unhappy at having the
+old man next to her. She cast glances of disgust at his work-roughened
+hands and his faded, patched smock, and drew away from him.
+
+Pere Bru sat with his head bowed, waiting. He was bothered by the napkin
+that was on the plate before him. Finally he lifted it off and placed
+it gently on the edge of the table, not thinking to spread it over his
+knees.
+
+Now at last Gervaise served the vermicelli soup; the guests were taking
+up their spoons when Virginie remarked that Coupeau had disappeared. He
+had perhaps returned to Pere Colombe's. This time the company got angry.
+So much the worse! One would not run after him; he could stay in the
+street if he was not hungry; and as the spoons touched the bottom of the
+plates, Coupeau reappeared with two pots of flowers, one under each arm,
+a stock and a balsam. They all clapped their hands. He gallantly placed
+the pots, one on the right, the other on the left of Gervaise's glass;
+then bending over and kissing her, he said:
+
+"I had forgotten you, my lamb. But in spite of that, we love each other
+all the same, especially on such a day as this."
+
+"Monsieur Coupeau's very nice this evening," murmured Clemence in
+Boche's ear. "He's just got what he required, sufficient to make him
+amiable."
+
+The good behavior of the master of the house restored the gaiety of the
+proceedings, which at one moment had been compromised. Gervaise, once
+more at her ease, was all smiles again. The guests finished their soup.
+Then the bottles circulated and they drank their first glass of wine,
+just a drop pure, to wash down the vermicelli. One could hear the
+children quarrelling in the next room. There were Etienne, Pauline, Nana
+and little Victor Fauconnier. It had been decided to lay a table for the
+four of them, and they had been told to be very good. That squint-eyed
+Augustine who had to look after the stoves was to eat off her knees.
+
+"Mamma! Mamma!" suddenly screamed Nana, "Augustine is dipping her bread
+in the Dutch oven!"
+
+The laundress hastened there and caught the squint-eyed one in the act
+of burning her throat in her attempts to swallow without loss of time a
+slice of bread soaked in boiling goose fat. She boxed her ears when the
+young monkey called out that it was not true. When, after the boiled
+beef, the stewed veal appeared, served in a salad-bowl, as they did not
+have a dish large enough, the party greeted it with a laugh.
+
+"It's becoming serious," declared Poisson, who seldom spoke.
+
+It was half-past seven. They had closed the shop door, so as not to be
+spied upon by the whole neighborhood; the little clockmaker opposite
+especially was opening his eyes to their full size and seemed to take
+the pieces from their mouths with such a gluttonous look that it
+almost prevented them from eating. The curtains hung before the windows
+admitted a great white uniform light which bathed the entire table with
+its symmetrical arrangement of knives and forks and its pots of flowers
+enveloped in tall collars of white paper; and this pale fading light,
+this slowly approaching dusk, gave to the party somewhat of an air of
+distinction. Virginie looked round the closed apartment hung with muslin
+and with a happy criticism declared it to be very cozy. Whenever a cart
+passed in the street the glasses jingled together on the table cloth and
+the ladies were obliged to shout out as loud as the men. But there was
+not much conversation; they all behaved very respectably and were very
+attentive to each other. Coupeau alone wore a blouse, because as he said
+one need not stand on ceremony with friends and besides which the blouse
+was the workman's garb of honor. The ladies, laced up in their bodices,
+wore their hair in plaits greasy with pomatum in which the daylight was
+reflected; whilst the gentlemen, sitting at a distance from the table,
+swelled out their chests and kept their elbows wide apart for fear of
+staining their frock coats.
+
+Ah! thunder! What a hole they were making in the stewed veal! If they
+spoke little, they were chewing in earnest. The salad-bowl was becoming
+emptier and emptier with a spoon stuck in the midst of the thick
+sauce--a good yellow sauce which quivered like a jelly. They fished
+pieces of veal out of it and seemed as though they would never come to
+the end; the salad-bowl journeyed from hand to hand and faces bent over
+it as forks picked out the mushrooms. The long loaves standing against
+the wall behind the guests appeared to melt away. Between the mouthfuls
+one could hear the sound of glasses being replaced on the table. The
+sauce was a trifle too salty. It required four bottles of wine to
+drown that blessed stewed veal, which went down like cream, but which
+afterwards lit up a regular conflagration in one's stomach. And before
+one had time to take a breath, the pig's back, in the middle of a deep
+dish surrounded by big round potatoes, arrived in the midst of a cloud
+of smoke. There was one general cry. By Jove! It was just the thing!
+Everyone liked it. They would do it justice; and they followed the dish
+with a side glance as they wiped their knives on their bread so as to be
+in readiness. Then as soon as they were helped they nudged one another
+and spoke with their mouths full. It was just like butter! Something
+sweet and solid which one could feel run through one's guts right down
+into one's boots. The potatoes were like sugar. It was not a bit salty;
+only, just on account of the potatoes, it required a wetting every few
+minutes. Four more bottles were placed on the table. The plates were
+wiped so clean that they also served for the green peas and bacon. Oh!
+vegetables were of no consequence. They playfully gulped them down in
+spoonfuls. The best part of the dish was the small pieces of bacon
+just nicely grilled and smelling like horse's hoof. Two bottles were
+sufficient for them.
+
+"Mamma! Mamma!" called out Nana suddenly, "Augustine's putting her
+fingers in my plate!"
+
+"Don't bother me! give her a slap!" replied Gervaise, in the act of
+stuffing herself with green peas.
+
+At the children's table in the back-room, Nana was playing the role
+of lady of the house, sitting next to Victor and putting her brother
+Etienne beside Pauline so they could play house, pretending they were
+two married couples. Nana had served her guests very politely at first,
+but now she had given way to her passion for grilled bacon, trying to
+keep every piece for herself. While Augustine was prowling around the
+children's table, she would grab the bits of bacon under the pretext
+of dividing them amongst the children. Nana was so furious that she bit
+Augustine on the wrist.
+
+"Ah! you know," murmured Augustine, "I'll tell your mother that after
+the veal you asked Victor to kiss you."
+
+But all became quiet again as Gervaise and mother Coupeau came in to get
+the goose. The guests at the big table were leaning back in their chairs
+taking a breather. The men had unbuttoned their waistcoats, the ladies
+were wiping their faces with their napkins. The repast was, so to say,
+interrupted; only one or two persons, unable to keep their jaws still,
+continued to swallow large mouthfuls of bread, without even knowing that
+they were doing so. The others were waiting and allowing their food to
+settle while waiting for the main course. Night was slowly coming on; a
+dirty ashy grey light was gathering behind the curtains. When Augustine
+brought two lamps and placed one at each end of the table, the general
+disorder became apparent in the bright glare--the greasy forks and
+plates, the table cloth stained with wine and covered with crumbs. A
+strong stifling odor pervaded the room. Certain warm fumes, however,
+attracted all the noses in the direction of the kitchen.
+
+"Can I help you?" cried Virginie.
+
+She left her chair and passed into the inner room. All the women
+followed one by one. They surrounded the Dutch oven, and watched with
+profound interest as Gervaise and mother Coupeau tried to pull the bird
+out. Then a clamor arose, in the midst of which one could distinguish
+the shrill voices and the joyful leaps of the children. And there was
+a triumphal entry. Gervaise carried the goose, her arms stiff, and her
+perspiring face expanded in one broad silent laugh; the women walked
+behind her, laughing in the same way; whilst Nana, right at the end,
+raised herself up to see, her eyes open to their full extent. When the
+enormous golden goose, streaming with gravy, was on the table, they did
+not attack it at once. It was a wonder, a respectful wonderment, which
+for a moment left everyone speechless. They drew one another's attention
+to it with winks and nods of the head. Golly! What a bird!
+
+"That one didn't get fat by licking the walls, I'll bet!" said Boche.
+
+Then they entered into details respecting the bird. Gervaise gave the
+facts. It was the best she could get at the poulterer's in the Faubourg
+Poissonniers; it weighed twelve and a half pounds on the scales at the
+charcoal-dealer's; they had burnt nearly half a bushel of charcoal in
+cooking it, and it had given three bowls full of drippings.
+
+Virginie interrupted her to boast of having seen it before it was
+cooked. "You could have eaten it just as it was," she said, "its skin
+was so fine, like the skin of a blonde." All the men laughed at
+this, smacking their lips. Lorilleux and Madame Lorilleux sniffed
+disdainfully, almost choking with rage to see such a goose on
+Clump-clump's table.
+
+"Well! We can't eat it whole," the laundress observed. "Who'll cut it
+up? No, no, not me! It's too big; I'm afraid of it."
+
+Coupeau offered his services. _Mon Dieu!_ it was very simple. You caught
+hold of the limbs, and pulled them off; the pieces were good all the
+same. But the others protested; they forcibly took possession of the
+large kitchen knife which the zinc-worker already held in his hand,
+saying that whenever he carved he made a regular graveyard of the
+platter. Finally, Madame Lerat suggested in a friendly tone:
+
+"Listen, it should be Monsieur Poisson; yes, Monsieur Poisson."
+
+But, as the others did not appear to understand, she added in a more
+flattering manner still:
+
+"Why, yes, of course, it should be Monsieur Poisson, who's accustomed to
+the use of arms."
+
+And she passed the kitchen knife to the policeman. All round the table
+they laughed with pleasure and approval. Poisson bowed his head with
+military stiffness, and moved the goose before him. When he thrust
+the knife into the goose, which cracked, Lorilleux was seized with an
+outburst of patriotism.
+
+"Ah! if it was a Cossack!" he cried.
+
+"Have you ever fought with Cossacks, Monsieur Poisson?" asked Madame
+Boche.
+
+"No, but I have with Bedouins," replied the policeman, who was cutting
+off a wing. "There are no more Cossacks."
+
+A great silence ensued. Necks were stretched out as every eye followed
+the knife. Poisson was preparing a surprise. Suddenly he gave a last
+cut; the hind-quarter of the bird came off and stood up on end, rump in
+the air, making a bishop's mitre. Then admiration burst forth. None were
+so agreeable in company as retired soldiers.
+
+The policeman allowed several minutes for the company to admire the
+bishop's mitre and then finished cutting the slices and arranging them
+on the platter. The carving of the goose was now complete.
+
+When the ladies complained that they were getting rather warm, Coupeau
+opened the door to the street and the gaiety continued against the
+background of cabs rattling down the street and pedestrians bustling
+along the pavement. The goose was attacked furiously by the rested jaws.
+Boche remarked that just having to wait and watch the goose being carved
+had been enough to make the veal and pork slide down to his ankles.
+
+Then ensued a famous tuck-in; that is to say, not one of the party
+recollected ever having before run the risk of such a stomach-ache.
+Gervaise, looking enormous, her elbows on the table, ate great pieces
+of breast, without uttering a word, for fear of losing a mouthful, and
+merely felt slightly ashamed and annoyed at exhibiting herself thus,
+as gluttonous as a cat before Goujet. Goujet, however, was too busy
+stuffing himself to notice that she was all red with eating. Besides,
+in spite of her greediness, she remained so nice and good! She did not
+speak, but she troubled herself every minute to look after Pere Bru,
+and place some dainty bit on his plate. It was even touching to see this
+glutton take a piece of wing almost from her mouth to give it to the
+old fellow, who did not appear to be very particular, and who swallowed
+everything with bowed head, almost besotted from having gobbled so much
+after he had forgotten the taste of bread. The Lorilleuxs expended their
+rage on the roast goose; they ate enough to last them three days; they
+would have stowed away the dish, the table, the very shop, if they could
+have ruined Clump-clump by doing so. All the ladies had wanted a piece
+of the breast, traditionally the ladies' portion. Madame Lerat, Madame
+Boche, Madame Putois, were all picking bones; whilst mother Coupeau,
+who adored the neck, was tearing off the flesh with her two last teeth.
+Virginie liked the skin when it was nicely browned, and the other guests
+gallantly passed their skin to her; so much so, that Poisson looked at
+his wife severely, and bade her stop, because she had had enough as it
+was. Once already, she had been a fortnight in bed, with her stomach
+swollen out, through having eaten too much roast goose. But Coupeau got
+angry and helped Virginie to the upper part of a leg, saying that, by
+Jove's thunder! if she did not pick it, she wasn't a proper woman. Had
+roast goose ever done harm to anybody? On the contrary, it cured all
+complaints of the spleen. One could eat it without bread, like dessert.
+He could go on swallowing it all night without being the least bit
+inconvenienced; and, just to show off, he stuffed a whole drum-stick
+into his mouth. Meanwhile, Clemence had got to the end of the rump, and
+was sucking it with her lips, whilst she wriggled with laughter on her
+chair because Boche was whispering all sorts of smutty things to her.
+Ah, by Jove! Yes, there was a dinner! When one's at it, one's at it, you
+know; and if one only has the chance now and then, one would be precious
+stupid not to stuff oneself up to one's ears. Really, one could see
+their sides puff out by degrees. They were cracking in their skins, the
+blessed gormandizers! With their mouths open, their chins besmeared with
+grease, they had such bloated red faces that one would have said they
+were bursting with prosperity.
+
+As for the wine, well, that was flowing as freely around the table
+as water flows in the Seine. It was like a brook overflowing after a
+rainstorm when the soil is parched. Coupeau raised the bottle high when
+pouring to see the red jet foam in the glass. Whenever he emptied a
+bottle, he would turn it upside down and shake it. One more dead solder!
+In a corner of the laundry the pile of dead soldiers grew larger and
+larger, a veritable cemetery of bottles onto which other debris from the
+table was tossed.
+
+Coupeau became indignant when Madame Putois asked for water. He took all
+the water pitchers from the table. Do respectable citizens ever drink
+water? Did she want to grow frogs in her stomach?
+
+Many glasses were emptied at one gulp. You could hear the liquid
+gurgling its way down the throats like rainwater in a drainpipe after a
+storm. One might say it was raining wine. _Mon Dieu!_ the juice of the
+grape was a remarkable invention. Surely the workingman couldn't get
+along without his wine. Papa Noah must have planted his grapevine for
+the benefit of zinc-workers, tailors and blacksmiths. It brightened you
+up and refreshed you after a hard day's work.
+
+Coupeau was in a high mood. He proclaimed that all the ladies present
+were very cute, and jingled the three sous in his pocket as if they had
+been five-franc pieces.
+
+Even Goujet, who was ordinarily very sober, had taken plenty of wine.
+Boche's eyes were narrowing, those of Lorilleux were paling, and Poisson
+was developing expressions of stern severity on his soldierly face.
+All the men were as drunk as lords and the ladies had reached a certain
+point also, feeling so warm that they had to loosen their clothes. Only
+Clemence carried this a bit too far.
+
+Suddenly Gervaise recollected the six sealed bottles of wine. She had
+forgotten to put them on the table with the goose; she fetched them, and
+all the glasses were filled. Then Poisson rose, and holding his glass in
+the air, said:
+
+"I drink to the health of the missus."
+
+All of them stood up, making a great noise with their chairs as they
+moved. Holding out their arms, they clinked glasses in the midst of an
+immense uproar.
+
+"Here's to this day fifty years hence!" cried Virginie.
+
+"No, no," replied Gervaise, deeply moved and smiling; "I shall be too
+old. Ah! a day comes when one's glad to go."
+
+Through the door, which was wide open, the neighborhood was looking on
+and taking part in the festivities. Passers-by stopped in the broad ray
+of light which shone over the pavement, and laughed heartily at seeing
+all these people stuffing away so jovially.
+
+The aroma from the roasted goose brought joy to the whole street. The
+clerks on the sidewalk opposite thought they could almost taste the
+bird. Others came out frequently to stand in front of their shops,
+sniffing the air and licking their lips. The little jeweler was unable
+to work, dizzy from having counted so many bottles. He seemed to have
+lost his head among his merry little cuckoo clocks.
+
+Yes, the neighbors were devoured with envy, as Coupeau said. But why
+should there be any secret made about the matter? The party, now fairly
+launched, was no longer ashamed of being seen at table; on the contrary,
+it felt flattered and excited at seeing the crowd gathered there, gaping
+with gluttony; it would have liked to have knocked out the shop-front
+and dragged the table into the road-way, and there to have enjoyed the
+dessert under the very nose of the public, and amidst the commotion of
+the thoroughfare. Nothing disgusting was to be seen in them, was there?
+Then there was no need to shut themselves in like selfish people.
+Coupeau, noticing the little clockmaker looked very thirsty, held up a
+bottle; and as the other nodded his head, he carried him the bottle
+and a glass. A fraternity was established in the street. They drank to
+anyone who passed. They called in any chaps who looked the right sort.
+The feast spread, extending from one to another, to the degree that the
+entire neighborhood of the Goutte-d'Or sniffed the grub, and held its
+stomach, amidst a rumpus worthy of the devil and all his demons. For
+some minutes, Madame Vigouroux, the charcoal-dealer, had been passing to
+and fro before the door.
+
+"Hi! Madame Vigouroux! Madame Vigouroux!" yelled the party.
+
+She entered with a broad grin on her face, which was washed for once,
+and so fat that the body of her dress was bursting. The men liked
+pinching her, because they might pinch her all over without ever
+encountering a bone. Boche made room for her beside him and reached
+slyly under the table to grab her knee. But she, being accustomed to
+that sort of thing, quietly tossed off a glass of wine, and related that
+all the neighbors were at their windows, and that some of the people of
+the house were beginning to get angry.
+
+"Oh, that's our business," said Madame Boche. "We're the concierges,
+aren't we? Well, we're answerable for good order. Let them come and
+complain to us, we'll receive them in a way they don't expect."
+
+In the back-room there had just been a furious fight between Nana and
+Augustine, on account of the Dutch oven, which both wanted to scrape
+out. For a quarter of an hour, the Dutch oven had rebounded over the
+tile floor with the noise of an old saucepan. Nana was now nursing
+little Victor, who had a goose-bone in his throat. She pushed her
+fingers under his chin, and made him swallow big lumps of sugar by way
+of a remedy. That did not prevent her keeping an eye on the big table.
+At every minute she came and asked for wine, bread, or meat, for Etienne
+and Pauline, she said.
+
+"Here! Burst!" her mother would say to her. "Perhaps you'll leave us in
+peace now!"
+
+The children were scarcely able to swallow any longer, but they
+continued to eat all the same, banging their forks down on the table to
+the tune of a canticle, in order to excite themselves.
+
+In the midst of the noise, however, a conversation was going on between
+Pere Bru and mother Coupeau. The old fellow, who was ghastly pale in
+spite of the wine and the food, was talking of his sons who had died in
+the Crimea. Ah! if the lads had only lived, he would have had bread to
+eat every day. But mother Coupeau, speaking thickly, leant towards him
+and said:
+
+"Ah! one has many worries with children! For instance, I appear to be
+happy here, don't I? Well! I cry more often than you think. No, don't
+wish you still had your children."
+
+Pere Bru shook his head.
+
+"I can't get work anywhere," murmured he. "I'm too old. When I enter a
+workshop the young fellows joke, and ask me if I polished Henri IV.'s
+boots. To-day it's all over; they won't have me anywhere. Last year I
+could still earn thirty sous a day painting a bridge. I had to lie on
+my back with the river flowing under me. I've had a bad cough ever since
+then. Now, I'm finished."
+
+He looked at his poor stiff hands and added:
+
+"It's easy to understand, I'm no longer good for anything. They're
+right; were I in their place I should do the same. You see, the
+misfortune is that I'm not dead. Yes, it's my fault. One should lie down
+and croak when one's no longer able to work."
+
+"Really," said Lorilleux, who was listening, "I don't understand why
+the Government doesn't come to the aid of the invalids of labor. I was
+reading that in a newspaper the other day."
+
+But Poisson thought it his duty to defend the Government.
+
+"Workmen are not soldiers," declared he. "The Invalides is for soldiers.
+You must not ask for what is impossible."
+
+Dessert was now served. In the centre of the table was a Savoy cake in
+the form of a temple, with a dome fluted with melon slices; and this
+dome was surmounted by an artificial rose, close to which was a silver
+paper butterfly, fluttering at the end of a wire. Two drops of gum in
+the centre of the flower imitated dew. Then, to the left, a piece of
+cream cheese floated in a deep dish; whilst in another dish to the
+right, were piled up some large crushed strawberries, with the juice
+running from them. However, there was still some salad left, some large
+coss lettuce leaves soaked with oil.
+
+"Come, Madame Boche," said Gervaise, coaxingly, "a little more salad. I
+know how fond you are of it."
+
+"No, no, thank you! I've already had as much as I can manage," replied
+the concierge.
+
+The laundress turning towards Virginie, the latter put her finger in her
+mouth, as though to touch the food she had taken.
+
+"Really, I'm full," murmured she. "There's no room left. I couldn't
+swallow a mouthful."
+
+"Oh! but if you tried a little," resumed Gervaise with a smile. "One can
+always find a tiny corner empty. Once doesn't need to be hungry to be
+able to eat salad. You're surely not going to let this be wasted?"
+
+"You can eat it to-morrow," said Madame Lerat; "it's nicer when its
+wilted."
+
+The ladies sighed as they looked regretfully at the salad-bowl. Clemence
+related that she had one day eaten three bunches of watercresses at
+her lunch. Madame Putois could do more than that, she would take a coss
+lettuce and munch it up with some salt just as it was without separating
+the leaves. They could all have lived on salad, would have treated
+themselves to tubfuls. And, this conversation aiding, the ladies cleaned
+out the salad-bowl.
+
+"I could go on all fours in a meadow," observed the concierge with her
+mouth full.
+
+Then they chuckled together as they eyed the dessert. Dessert did not
+count. It came rather late but that did not matter; they would nurse
+it all the same. When you're that stuffed, you can't let yourself be
+stopped by strawberries and cake. There was no hurry. They had
+the entire night if they wished. So they piled their plates with
+strawberries and cream cheese. Meanwhile the men lit their pipes. They
+were drinking the ordinary wine while they smoked since the special wine
+had been finished. Now they insisted that Gervaise cut the Savoy cake.
+Poisson got up and took the rose from the cake and presented it in
+his most gallant manner to the hostess amidst applause from the other
+guests. She pinned it over her left breast, near the heart. The silver
+butterfly fluttered with her every movement.
+
+"Well, look," exclaimed Lorilleux, who had just made a discovery, "it's
+your work-table that we're eating off! Ah, well! I daresay it's never
+seen so much work before!"
+
+This malicious joke had a great success. Witty allusions came from all
+sides. Clemence could not swallow a spoonful of strawberries without
+saying that it was another shirt ironed; Madame Lerat pretended that the
+cream cheese smelt of starch; whilst Madame Lorilleux said between her
+teeth that it was capital fun to gobble up the money so quickly on the
+very boards on which one had had so much trouble to earn it. There was
+quite a tempest of shouts and laughter.
+
+But suddenly a loud voice called for silence. It was Boche who, standing
+up in an affected and vulgar way, was commencing to sing "The Volcano of
+Love, or the Seductive Trooper."
+
+A thunder of applause greeted the first verse. Yes, yes, they would sing
+songs! Everyone in turn. It was more amusing than anything else. And
+they all put their elbows on the table or leant back in their chairs,
+nodding their heads at the best parts and sipping their wine when they
+came to the choruses. That rogue Boche had a special gift for comic
+songs. He would almost make the water pitchers laugh when he imitated
+the raw recruit with his fingers apart and his hat on the back of his
+head. Directly after "The Volcano of Love," he burst out into "The
+Baroness de Follebiche," one of his greatest successes. When he reached
+the third verse he turned towards Clemence and almost murmured it in a
+slow and voluptuous tone of voice:
+
+     "The baroness had people there,
+          Her sisters four, oh! rare surprise;
+     And three were dark, and one was fair;
+          Between them, eight bewitching eyes."
+
+Then the whole party, carried away, joined in the chorus. The men beat
+time with their heels, whilst the ladies did the same with their knives
+against their glasses. All of them singing at the top of their voices:
+
+     "By Jingo! who on earth will pay
+          A drink to the pa--to the pa--pa--?
+     By Jingo! who on earth will pay
+          A drink to the pa--to the pa--tro--o--l?"
+
+The panes of glass of the shop-front resounded, the singers' great
+volume of breath agitated the muslin curtains. Whilst all this was going
+on, Virginie had already twice disappeared and each time, on returning,
+had leant towards Gervaise's ear to whisper a piece of information. When
+she returned the third time, in the midst of the uproar, she said to
+her:
+
+"My dear, he's still at Francois's; he's pretending to read the
+newspaper. He's certainly meditating some evil design."
+
+She was speaking of Lantier. It was him that she had been watching. At
+each fresh report Gervaise became more and more grave.
+
+"Is he drunk?" asked she of Virginie.
+
+"No," replied the tall brunette. "He looks as though he had merely had
+what he required. It's that especially which makes me anxious. Why does
+he remain there if he's had all he wanted? _Mon Dieu!_ I hope nothing is
+going to happen!"
+
+The laundress, greatly upset, begged her to leave off. A profound
+silence suddenly succeeded the clamor. Madame Putois had just risen and
+was about to sing "The Boarding of the Pirate." The guests, silent and
+thoughtful, watched her; even Poisson had laid his pipe down on the
+edge of the table the better to listen to her. She stood up to the full
+height of her little figure, with a fierce expression about her, though
+her face looked quite pale beneath her black cap; she thrust out her
+left fist with a satisfied pride as she thundered in a voice bigger than
+herself:
+
+     "If the pirate audacious
+     Should o'er the waves chase us,
+     The buccaneer slaughter,
+     Accord him no quarter.
+     To the guns every man,
+     And with rum fill each can!
+     While these pests of the seas
+     Dangle from the cross-trees."
+
+That was something serious. By Jove! it gave one a fine idea of the real
+thing. Poisson, who had been on board ship nodded his head in approval
+of the description. One could see too that that song was in accordance
+with Madame Putois's own feeling. Coupeau then told how Madame Putois,
+one evening on Rue Poulet, had slapped the face of four men who sought
+to attack her virtue.
+
+With the assistance of mother Coupeau, Gervaise was now serving the
+coffee, though some of the guests had not yet finished their Savoy cake.
+They would not let her sit down again, but shouted that it was her turn.
+With a pale face, and looking very ill at ease, she tried to excuse
+herself; she seemed so queer that someone inquired whether the goose
+had disagreed with her. She finally gave them "Oh! let me slumber!" in a
+sweet and feeble voice. When she reached the chorus with its wish for
+a sleep filled with beautiful dreams, her eyelids partly closed and her
+rapt gaze lost itself in the darkness of the street.
+
+Poisson stood next and with an abrupt bow to the ladies, sang a drinking
+song: "The Wines of France." But his voice wasn't very musical and only
+the final verse, a patriotic one mentioning the tricolor flag, was a
+success. Then he raised his glass high, juggled it a moment, and poured
+the contents into his open mouth.
+
+Then came a string of ballads; Madame Boche's barcarolle was all about
+Venice and the gondoliers; Madame Lorilleux sang of Seville and the
+Andalusians in her bolero; whilst Lorilleux went so far as to allude to
+the perfumes of Arabia, in reference to the loves of Fatima the dancer.
+
+Golden horizons were opening up all around the heavily laden table. The
+men were smoking their pipes and the women unconsciously smiling with
+pleasure. All were dreaming they were far away.
+
+Clemence began to sing softly "Let's Make a Nest" with a tremolo in
+her voice which pleased them greatly for it made them think of the open
+country, of songbirds, of dancing beneath an arbor, and of flowers. In
+short, it made them think of the Bois de Vincennes when they went there
+for a picnic.
+
+But Virginie revived the joking with "My Little Drop of Brandy." She
+imitated a camp follower, with one hand on her hip, the elbow arched to
+indicate the little barrel; and with the other hand she poured out the
+brandy into space by turning her fist round. She did it so well that
+the party then begged mother Coupeau to sing "The Mouse." The old woman
+refused, vowing that she did not know that naughty song. Yet she started
+off with the remnants of her broken voice; and her wrinkled face
+with its lively little eyes underlined the allusions, the terrors of
+Mademoiselle Lise drawing her skirts around her at the sight of a mouse.
+All the table laughed; the women could not keep their countenances, and
+continued casting bright glances at their neighbors; it was not indecent
+after all, there were no coarse words in it. All during the song Boche
+was playing mouse up and down the legs of the lady coal-dealer. Things
+might have gotten a bit out of line if Goujet, in response to a glance
+from Gervaise, had not brought back the respectful silence with "The
+Farewell of Abdul-Kader," which he sang out loudly in his bass voice.
+The song rang out from his golden beard as if from a brass trumpet.
+All the hearts skipped a beat when he cried, "Ah, my noble comrade!"
+referring to the warrior's black mare. They burst into applause even
+before the end.
+
+"Now, Pere Bru, it's your turn!" said mother Coupeau. "Sing your song.
+The old ones are the best any day!"
+
+And everybody turned towards the old man, pressing him and encouraging
+him. He, in a state of torpor, with his immovable mask of tanned skin,
+looked at them without appearing to understand. They asked him if he
+knew the "Five Vowels." He held down his head; he could not recollect
+it; all the songs of the good old days were mixed up in his head. As
+they made up their minds to leave him alone, he seemed to remember, and
+began to stutter in a cavernous voice:
+
+     "Trou la la, trou la la,
+     Trou la, trou la, trou la la!"
+
+His face assumed an animated expression, this chorus seemed to awake
+some far-off gaieties within him, enjoyed by himself alone, as he
+listened with a childish delight to his voice which became more and more
+hollow.
+
+"Say there, my dear," Virginie came and whispered in Gervaise's ear,
+"I've just been there again, you know. It worried me. Well! Lantier has
+disappeared from Francois's."
+
+"You didn't meet him outside?" asked the laundress.
+
+"No, I walked quickly, not as if I was looking for him."
+
+But Virginie raised her eyes, interrupted herself and heaved a smothered
+sigh.
+
+"Ah! _Mon Dieu!_ He's there, on the pavement opposite; he's looking this
+way."
+
+Gervaise, quite beside herself, ventured to glance in the direction
+indicated. Some persons had collected in the street to hear the party
+sing. And Lantier was indeed there in the front row, listening and
+coolly looking on. It was rare cheek, everything considered. Gervaise
+felt a chill ascend from her legs to her heart, and she no longer dared
+to move, whilst old Bru continued:
+
+     "Trou la la, trou la la,
+     Trou la, trou la, trou la la!"
+
+"Very good. Thank you, my ancient one, that's enough!" said Coupeau. "Do
+you know the whole of it? You shall sing it for us another day when we
+need something sad."
+
+This raised a few laughs. The old fellow stopped short, glanced round
+the table with his pale eyes and resumed his look of a meditative
+animal. Coupeau called for more wine as the coffee was finished.
+Clemence was eating strawberries again. With the pause in singing, they
+began to talk about a woman who had been found hanging that morning in
+the building next door. It was Madame Lerat's turn, but she required
+to prepare herself. She dipped the corner of her napkin into a glass of
+water and applied it to her temples because she was too hot. Then, she
+asked for a thimbleful of brandy, drank it, and slowly wiped her lips.
+
+"The 'Child of God,' shall it be?" she murmured, "the 'Child of God.'"
+
+And, tall and masculine-looking, with her bony nose and her shoulders as
+square as a grenadier's she began:
+
+     "The lost child left by its mother alone
+     Is sure of a home in Heaven above,
+     God sees and protects it on earth from His throne,
+     The child that is lost is the child of God's love."
+
+Her voice trembled at certain words, and dwelt on them in liquid notes;
+she looked out of the corner of her eyes to heaven, whilst her right
+hand swung before her chest or pressed against her heart with an
+impressive gesture. Then Gervaise, tortured by Lantier's presence, could
+not restrain her tears; it seemed to her that the song was relating her
+own suffering, that she was the lost child, abandoned by its mother, and
+whom God was going to take under his protection. Clemence was now very
+drunk and she burst into loud sobbing and placed her head down onto the
+table in an effort to smother her gasps. There was a hush vibrant with
+emotion.
+
+The ladies had pulled out their handkerchiefs, and were drying their
+eyes, with their heads erect from pride. The men had bowed their heads
+and were staring straight before them, blinking back their tears.
+Poisson bit off the end of his pipe twice while gulping and gasping.
+Boche, with two large tears trickling down his face, wasn't even
+bothering to squeeze the coal-dealer's knee any longer. All these drunk
+revelers were as soft-hearted as lambs. Wasn't the wine almost coming
+out of their eyes? When the refrain began again, they all let themselves
+go, blubbering into their plates.
+
+But Gervaise and Virginie could not, in spite of themselves, take their
+eyes off the pavement opposite. Madame Boche, in her turn, caught sight
+of Lantier and uttered a faint cry without ceasing to besmear her face
+with her tears. Then all three had very anxious faces as they exchanged
+involuntary signs. _Mon Dieu!_ if Coupeau were to turn round, if Coupeau
+caught sight of the other! What a butchery! What carnage! And they went
+on to such an extent that the zinc-worker asked them:
+
+"Whatever are you looking at?"
+
+He leant forward and recognized Lantier.
+
+"Damnation! It's too much," muttered he. "Ah! the dirty scoundrel--ah!
+the dirty scoundrel. No, it's too much, it must come to an end."
+
+And as he rose from his seat muttering most atrocious threats, Gervaise,
+in a low voice, implored him to keep quiet.
+
+"Listen to me, I implore you. Leave the knife alone. Remain where you
+are, don't do anything dreadful."
+
+Virginie had to take the knife which he had picked up off the table
+from him. But she could not prevent him leaving the shop and going up to
+Lantier.
+
+Those around the table saw nothing of this, so involved were they in
+weeping over the song as Madame Lerat sang the last verse. It sounded
+like a moaning wail of the wind and Madame Putois was so moved that she
+spilled her wine over the table. Gervaise remained frozen with fright,
+one hand tight against her lips to stifle her sobs. She expected at any
+moment to see one of the two men fall unconscious in the street.
+
+As Coupeau rushed toward Lantier, he was so astonished by the fresh air
+that he staggered, and Lantier, with his hands in his pockets, merely
+took a step to the side. Now the two men were almost shouting at each
+other, Coupeau calling the other a lousy pig and threatening to make
+sausage of his guts. They were shouting loudly and angrily and waving
+their arms violently. Gervaise felt faint and as it continued for a
+while, she closed her eyes. Suddenly, she didn't hear any shouting and
+opened her eyes. The two men were chatting amiably together.
+
+Madame Lerat's voice rose higher and higher, warbling another verse.
+
+Gervaise exchanged a glance with Madame Boche and Virginie. Was it going
+to end amicably then? Coupeau and Lantier continued to converse on
+the edge of the pavement. They were still abusing each other, but in a
+friendly way. As people were staring at them, they ended by strolling
+leisurely side by side past the houses, turning round again every ten
+yards or so. A very animated conversation was now taking place. Suddenly
+Coupeau appeared to become angry again, whilst the other was refusing
+something and required to be pressed. And it was the zinc-worker who
+pushed Lantier along and who forced him to cross the street and enter
+the shop.
+
+"I tell you, you're quite welcome!" shouted he. "You'll take a glass of
+wine. Men are men, you know. We ought to understand each other."
+
+Madame Lerat was finishing the last chorus. The ladies were singing all
+together as they twisted their handkerchiefs.
+
+"The child that is lost is the child of God's love."
+
+The singer was greatly complimented and she resumed her seat affecting
+to be quite broken down. She asked for something to drink because she
+always put too much feeling into that song and she was constantly afraid
+of straining her vocal chords. Everyone at the table now had their eyes
+fixed on Lantier who, quietly seated beside Coupeau, was devouring the
+last piece of Savoy cake which he dipped in his glass of wine. With the
+exception of Virginie and Madame Boche none of the guests knew him. The
+Lorilleuxs certainly scented some underhand business, but not knowing
+what, they merely assumed their most conceited air. Goujet, who had
+noticed Gervaise's emotion, gave the newcomer a sour look. As an awkward
+pause ensued Coupeau simply said:
+
+"A friend of mine."
+
+And turning to his wife, added:
+
+"Come, stir yourself! Perhaps there's still some hot coffee left."
+
+Gervaise, feeling meek and stupid, looked at them one after the other.
+At first, when her husband pushed her old lover into the shop, she
+buried her head between her hands, the same as she instinctively did on
+stormy days at each clap of thunder. She could not believe it possible;
+the walls would fall in and crush them all. Then, when she saw the two
+sitting together peacefully, she suddenly accepted it as quite natural.
+A happy feeling of languor benumbed her, retained her all in a heap at
+the edge of the table, with the sole desire of not being bothered. _Mon
+Dieu!_ what is the use of putting oneself out when others do not, and
+when things arrange themselves to the satisfaction of everybody? She got
+up to see if there was any coffee left.
+
+In the back-room the children had fallen asleep. That squint-eyed
+Augustine had tyrannized over them all during the dessert, pilfering
+their strawberries and frightening them with the most abominable
+threats. Now she felt very ill, and was bent double upon a stool, not
+uttering a word, her face ghastly pale. Fat Pauline had let her head
+fall against Etienne's shoulder, and he himself was sleeping on the
+edge of the table. Nana was seated with Victor on the rug beside the
+bedstead, she had passed her arm round his neck and was drawing him
+towards her; and, succumbing to drowsiness and with her eyes shut, she
+kept repeating in a feeble voice:
+
+"Oh! Mamma, I'm not well; oh! mamma, I'm not well."
+
+"No wonder!" murmured Augustine, whose head was rolling about on her
+shoulders, "they're drunk; they've been singing like grown up persons."
+
+Gervaise received another blow on beholding Etienne. She felt as though
+she would choke when she thought of the youngster's father being there
+in the other room, eating cake, and that he had not even expressed
+a desire to kiss the little fellow. She was on the point of rousing
+Etienne and of carrying him there in her arms. Then she again felt that
+the quiet way in which matters had been arranged was the best. It would
+not have been proper to have disturbed the harmony of the end of the
+dinner. She returned with the coffee-pot and poured out a glass of
+coffee for Lantier, who, by the way, did not appear to take any notice
+of her.
+
+"Now, it's my turn," stuttered Coupeau, in a thick voice. "You've
+been keeping the best for the last. Well! I'll sing you 'That Piggish
+Child.'"
+
+"Yes, yes, 'That Piggish Child,'" cried everyone.
+
+The uproar was beginning again. Lantier was forgotten. The ladies
+prepared their glasses and their knives for accompanying the chorus.
+They laughed beforehand, as they looked at the zinc-worker, who steadied
+himself on his legs as he put on his most vulgar air. Mimicking the
+hoarse voice of an old woman, he sang:
+
+     "When out of bed each morn I hop,
+     I'm always precious queer;
+     I send him for a little drop
+     To the drinking-den that's near.
+     A good half hour or more he'll stay,
+     And that makes me so riled,
+     He swigs it half upon his way:
+     What a piggish child!"
+
+And the ladies, striking their glasses, repeated in chorus in the midst
+of a formidable gaiety:
+
+     "What a piggish child!
+     What a piggish child!"
+
+Even the Rue de la Goutte-d'Or itself joined in now. The whole
+neighborhood was singing "What a piggish child!" The little clockmaker,
+the grocery clerks, the tripe woman and the fruit woman all knew the
+song and joined in the chorus. The entire street seemed to be getting
+drunk on the odors from the Coupeau party. In the reddish haze from the
+two lamps, the noise of the party was enough to shut out the rumbling
+of the last vehicles in the street. Two policemen rushed over, thinking
+there was a riot, but on recognizing Poisson, they saluted him smartly
+and went away between the darkened buildings.
+
+Coupeau was now singing this verse:
+
+     "On Sundays at Petite Villette,
+     Whene'er the weather's fine,
+     We call on uncle, old Tinette,
+     Who's in the dustman line.
+     To feast upon some cherry stones
+     The young un's almost wild,
+     And rolls amongst the dust and bones,
+     What a piggish child!
+     What a piggish child!"
+
+Then the house almost collapsed, such a yell ascended in the calm warm
+night air that the shouters applauded themselves, for it was useless
+their hoping to be able to bawl any louder.
+
+Not one of the party could ever recollect exactly how the carouse
+terminated. It must have been very late, it's quite certain, for not
+a cat was to be seen in the street. Possibly too, they had all joined
+hands and danced round the table. But all was submerged in a yellow
+mist, in which red faces were jumping about, with mouths slit from ear
+to ear. They had probably treated themselves to something stronger than
+wine towards the end, and there was a vague suspicion that some one had
+played them the trick of putting salt into the glasses. The children
+must have undressed and put themselves to bed. On the morrow, Madame
+Boche boasted of having treated Boche to a couple of clouts in a corner,
+where he was conversing a great deal too close to the charcoal-dealer;
+but Boche, who recollected nothing, said she must have dreamt it.
+Everyone agreed that it wasn't very decent the way Clemence had carried
+on. She had ended by showing everything she had and then been so sick
+that she had completely ruined one of the muslin curtains. The men
+had at least the decency to go into the street; Lorilleux and Poisson,
+feeling their stomachs upset, had stumblingly glided as far as the
+pork-butcher's shop. It is easy to see when a person has been well
+brought up. For instance, the ladies, Madame Putois, Madame Lerat, and
+Virginie, indisposed by the heat, had simply gone into the back-room and
+taken their stays off; Virginie had even desired to lie on the bed for
+a minute, just to obviate any unpleasant effects. Thus the party
+had seemed to melt away, some disappearing behind the others, all
+accompanying one another, and being lost sight of in the surrounding
+darkness, to the accompaniment of a final uproar, a furious quarrel
+between the Lorilleuxs, and an obstinate and mournful "trou la la, trou
+la la," of old Bru's. Gervaise had an idea that Goujet had burst out
+sobbing when bidding her good-bye; Coupeau was still singing; and as
+for Lantier, he must have remained till the end. At one moment even, she
+could still feel a breath against her hair, but she was unable to say
+whether it came from Lantier or if it was the warm night air.
+
+Since Madame Lerat didn't want to return to Les Batignolles at such a
+late hour, they took one of the mattresses off the bed and spread it
+for her in a corner of the shop, after pushing back the table. She
+slept right there amid all the dinner crumbs. All night long, while
+the Coupeaus were sleeping, a neighbor's cat took advantage of an open
+window and was crunching the bones of the goose with its sharp teeth,
+giving the bird its final resting place.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VIII
+
+On the following Saturday Coupeau, who had not come home to dinner,
+brought Lantier with him towards ten o'clock. They had had some sheep's
+trotters at Chez Thomas at Montmartre.
+
+"You mustn't scold, wife," said the zinc-worker. "We're sober, as you
+can see. Oh! there's no fear with him; he keeps one on the straight
+road."
+
+And he related how they happened to meet in the Rue Rochechouart. After
+dinner Lantier had declined to have a drink at the "Black Ball," saying
+that when one was married to a pretty and worthy little woman, one ought
+not to go liquoring-up at all the wineshops. Gervaise smiled slightly
+as she listened. Oh! she was not thinking of scolding, she felt too much
+embarrassed for that. She had been expecting to see her former lover
+again some day ever since their dinner party; but at such an hour, when
+she was about to go to bed, the unexpected arrival of the two men had
+startled her. Her hands were quivering as she pinned back the hair which
+had slid down her neck.
+
+"You know," resumed Coupeau, "as he was so polite as to decline a drink
+outside, you must treat us to one here. Ah! you certainly owe us that!"
+
+The workwomen had left long ago. Mother Coupeau and Nana had just gone
+to bed. Gervaise, who had been just about to put up the shutters when
+they appeared, left the shop open and brought some glasses which she
+placed on a corner of the work-table with what was left of a bottle of
+brandy.
+
+Lantier remained standing and avoided speaking directly to her. However,
+when she served him, he exclaimed:
+
+"Only a thimbleful, madame, if you please."
+
+Coupeau looked at them and then spoke his mind very plainly. They were
+not going to behave like a couple of geese he hoped! The past was past
+was it not? If people nursed grudges for nine and ten years together one
+would end by no longer seeing anybody. No, no, he carried his heart
+in his hand, he did! First of all, he knew who he had to deal with, a
+worthy woman and a worthy man--in short two friends! He felt easy; he
+knew he could depend upon them.
+
+"Oh! that's certain, quite certain," repeated Gervaise, looking on the
+ground and scarcely understanding what she said.
+
+"She is a sister now--nothing but a sister!" murmured Lantier in his
+turn.
+
+"_Mon Dieu!_ shake hands," cried Coupeau, "and let those who don't like
+it go to blazes! When one has proper feelings one is better off than
+millionaires. For myself I prefer friendship before everything because
+friendship is friendship and there's nothing to beat it."
+
+He dealt himself heavy blows on the chest, and seemed so moved that
+they had to calm him. They all three silently clinked glasses, and drank
+their drop of brandy. Gervaise was then able to look at Lantier at her
+ease; for on the night of her saint's day, she had only seen him through
+a fog. He had grown more stout, his arms and legs seeming too heavy
+because of his small stature. His face was still handsome even though it
+was a little puffy now due to his life of idleness. He still took great
+pains with his narrow moustache. He looked about his actual age. He was
+wearing grey trousers, a heavy blue overcoat, and a round hat. He
+even had a watch with a silver chain on which a ring was hanging as a
+keepsake. He looked quite like a gentleman.
+
+"I'm off," said he. "I live no end of a distance from here."
+
+He was already on the pavement when the zinc-worker called him back to
+make him promise never to pass the door without looking in to wish them
+good day. Meanwhile Gervaise, who had quietly disappeared, returned
+pushing Etienne before her. The child, who was in his shirt-sleeves and
+half asleep, smiled as he rubbed his eyes. But when he beheld Lantier
+he stood trembling and embarrassed, and casting anxious glances in the
+direction of his mother and Coupeau.
+
+"Don't you remember this gentleman?" asked the latter.
+
+The child held down his head without replying. Then he made a slight
+sign which meant that he did remember the gentleman.
+
+"Well! Then, don't stand there like a fool; go and kiss him."
+
+Lantier gravely and quietly waited. When Etienne had made up his mind
+to approach him, he stooped down, presented both his cheeks, and then
+kissed the youngster on the forehead himself. At this the boy ventured
+to look at his father; but all on a sudden he burst out sobbing and
+scampered away like a mad creature with his clothes half falling off
+him, whilst Coupeau angrily called him a young savage.
+
+"The emotion's too much for him," said Gervaise, pale and agitated
+herself.
+
+"Oh! he's generally very gentle and nice," exclaimed Coupeau. "I've
+brought him up properly, as you'll see. He'll get used to you. He must
+learn to know people. We can't stay mad. We should have made up a long
+time ago for his sake. I'd rather have my head cut off than keep a
+father from seeing his own son."
+
+Having thus delivered himself, he talked of finishing the bottle of
+brandy. All three clinked glasses again. Lantier showed no surprise, but
+remained perfectly calm. By way of repaying the zinc-worker's politeness
+he persisted in helping him put up the shutters before taking his
+departure. Then rubbing his hands together to get rid of the dust on
+them, he wished the couple good-night.
+
+"Sleep well. I shall try and catch the last bus. I promise you I'll look
+in again soon."
+
+After that evening Lantier frequently called at the Rue de la
+Goutte-d'Or. He came when the zinc-worker was there, inquiring after his
+health the moment he passed the door and affecting to have solely called
+on his account. Then clean-shaven, his hair nicely combed and always
+wearing his overcoat, he would take a seat by the window and converse
+politely with the manners of an educated man. It was thus that the
+Coupeaus learnt little by little the details of his life. During the
+last eight years he had for a while managed a hat factory; and when they
+asked him why he had retired from it he merely alluded to the rascality
+of a partner, a fellow from his native place, a scoundrel who had
+squandered all the takings with women. His former position as an
+employer continued to affect his entire personality, like a title of
+nobility that he could not abandon. He was always talking of concluding
+a magnificent deal with some hatmakers who were going to set him up in
+business. While waiting for this he did nothing but stroll around all
+day like one of the idle rich. If anyone dared to mention a hat factory
+looking for workers, he smiled and said he was not interested in
+breaking his back working for others.
+
+A smart fellow like Lantier, according to Coupeau, knew how to take care
+of himself. He always looked prosperous and it took money to look thus.
+He must have some deal going. One morning Coupeau had seen him having
+his shoes shined on the Boulevard Montmartre. Lantier was very talkative
+about others, but the truth was that he told lies about himself. He
+would not even say where he lived, only that he was staying with a
+friend and there was no use in coming to see him because he was never
+in.
+
+It was now early November. Lantier would gallantly bring bunches of
+violets for Gervaise and the workwomen. He was now coming almost every
+day. He won the favor of Clemence and Madame Putois with his little
+attentions. At the end of the month they adored him. The Boches, whom he
+flattered by going to pay his respects in their concierge's lodge, went
+into ecstasies over his politeness.
+
+As soon as the Lorilleuxs knew who he was, they howled at the impudence
+of Gervaise in bringing her former lover into her home. However, one
+day Lantier went to visit them and made such a good impression when he
+ordered a necklace for a lady of his acquaintance that they invited
+him to sit down. He stayed an hour and they were so charmed by his
+conversation that they wondered how a man of such distinction had ever
+lived with Clump-clump. Soon Lantier's visits to the Coupeaus were
+accepted as perfectly natural; he was in the good graces of everyone
+along the Rue de la Goutte-d'Or. Goujet was the only one who remained
+cold. If he happened to be there when Lantier arrived, he would leave at
+once as he didn't want to be obliged to be friendly to him.
+
+In the midst, however, of all this extraordinary affection for Lantier,
+Gervaise lived in a state of great agitation for the first few weeks.
+She felt that burning sensation in the pit of her stomach which affected
+her on the day when Virginie first alluded to her past life. Her great
+fear was that she might find herself without strength, if he came upon
+her all alone one night and took it into his head to kiss her. She
+thought of him too much; she was for ever thinking of him. But she
+gradually became calmer on seeing him behave so well, never looking her
+in the face, never even touching her with the tips of his fingers when
+no one was watching. Then Virginie, who seemed to read within her, made
+her ashamed of all her wicked thoughts. Why did she tremble? Once could
+not hope to come across a nicer man. She certainly had nothing to fear
+now. And one day the tall brunette maneuvered in such a way as to get
+them both into a corner, and to turn the conversation to the subject of
+love. Lantier, choosing his words, declared in a grave voice that his
+heart was dead, that for the future he wished to consecrate his life
+solely for his son's happiness. Every evening he would kiss Etienne on
+the forehead, yet he was apt to forget him in teasing back and forth
+with Clemence. And he never mentioned Claude who was still in the south.
+Gervaise began to feel at ease. Lantier's actual presence overshadowed
+her memories, and seeing him all the time, she no longer dreamed about
+him. She even felt a certain repugnance at the thought of their former
+relationship. Yes, it was over. If he dared to approach her, she'd
+box his ears, or even better, she'd tell her husband. Once again her
+thoughts turned to Goujet and his affection for her.
+
+One morning Clemence reported that the previous night, at about eleven
+o'clock, she had seen Monsieur Lantier with a woman. She told about it
+maliciously and in coarse terms to see how Gervaise would react. Yes,
+Monsieur Lantier was on the Rue Notre Dame de Lorette with a blonde
+and she followed them. They had gone into a shop where the worn-out and
+used-up woman had bought some shrimps. Then they went to the Rue de La
+Rochefoucauld. Monsieur Lantier had waited on the pavement in front of
+the house while his lady friend went in alone. Then she had beckoned to
+him from the window to join her.
+
+No matter how Clemence went on with the story Gervaise went on
+peacefully ironing a white dress. Sometimes she smiled faintly. These
+southerners, she said, are all crazy about women; they have to have them
+no matter what, even if they come from a dung heap. When Lantier came
+in that evening, Gervaise was amused when Clemence teased him about the
+blonde. He seemed to feel flattered that he had been seen. _Mon Dieu!_
+she was just an old friend, he explained. He saw her from time to time.
+She was quite stylish. He mentioned some of her former lovers, among
+them a count, an important merchant and the son of a lawyer. He added
+that a bit of playing around didn't mean a thing, his heart was dead. In
+the end Clemence had to pay a price for her meanness. She certainly felt
+Lantier pinching her hard two or three times without seeming to do so.
+She was also jealous because she didn't reek of musk like that boulevard
+work-horse.
+
+When spring came, Lantier, who was now quite one of the family, talked
+of living in the neighborhood, so as to be nearer his friends. He wanted
+a furnished room in a decent house. Madame Boche, and even Gervaise
+herself went searching about to find it for him. They explored the
+neighboring streets. But he was always too difficult to please; he
+required a big courtyard, a room on the ground floor; in fact, every
+luxury imaginable. And then every evening, at the Coupeaus', he seemed
+to measure the height of the ceilings, study the arrangement of the
+rooms, and covet a similar lodging. Oh, he would never have asked for
+anything better, he would willingly have made himself a hole in that
+warm, quiet corner. Then each time he wound up his inspection with these
+words:
+
+"By Jove! you are comfortably situated here."
+
+One evening, when he had dined there, and was making the same remark
+during the dessert, Coupeau, who now treated him most familiarly,
+suddenly exclaimed:
+
+"You must stay here, old boy, if it suits you. It's easily arranged."
+
+And he explained that the dirty-clothes room, cleaned out, would make
+a nice apartment. Etienne could sleep in the shop, on a mattress on the
+floor, that was all.
+
+"No, no," said Lantier, "I cannot accept. It would inconvenience you too
+much. I know that it's willingly offered, but we should be too warm all
+jumbled up together. Besides, you know, each one likes his liberty.
+I should have to go through your room, and that wouldn't be exactly
+funny."
+
+"Ah, the rogue!" resumed the zinc-worker, choking with laughter, banging
+his fist down on the table, "he's always thinking of something smutty!
+But, you joker, we're of an inventive turn of mind! There're two windows
+in the room, aren't there? Well, we'll knock one out and turn it into a
+door. Then, you understand you come in by way of the courtyard, and
+we can even stop up the other door, if we like. Thus you'll be in your
+home, and we in ours."
+
+A pause ensued. At length the hatter murmured:
+
+"Ah, yes, in that manner perhaps we might. And yet no, I should be too
+much in your way."
+
+He avoided looking at Gervaise. But he was evidently waiting for a word
+from her before accepting. She was very much annoyed at her husband's
+idea; not that the thought of seeing Lantier living with them wounded
+her feelings, or made her particularly uneasy, but she was wondering
+where she would be able to keep the dirty clothes. Coupeau was going
+on about the advantages of the arrangement. Their rent, five hundred
+francs, had always been a bit steep. Their friend could pay twenty
+francs a month for a nicely furnished room and it would help them with
+the rent. He would be responsible for fixing up a big box under their
+bed that would be large enough to hold all the dirty clothes. Gervaise
+still hesitated. She looked toward mother Coupeau for guidance. Lantier
+had won over mother Coupeau months ago by bringing her gum drops for her
+cough.
+
+"You would certainly not be in our way," Gervaise ended by saying. "We
+could so arrange things--"
+
+"No, no, thanks," repeated the hatter. "You're too kind; it would be
+asking too much."
+
+Coupeau could no longer restrain himself. Was he going to continue
+making objections when they told him it was freely offered? He would
+be obliging them. There, did he understand? Then in an excited tone of
+voice he yelled:
+
+"Etienne! Etienne!"
+
+The youngster had fallen asleep on the table. He raised his head with a
+start.
+
+"Listen, tell him that you wish it. Yes, that gentleman there. Tell him
+as loud as you can: 'I wish it!'"
+
+"I wish it!" stuttered Etienne, his voice thick with sleep.
+
+Everyone laughed. But Lantier resumed his grave and impressive air. He
+squeezed Coupeau's hand across the table as he said:
+
+"I accept. It's in all good fellowship on both sides, is it not? Yes, I
+accept for the child's sake."
+
+The next day when the landlord, Monsieur Marescot, came to spend an
+hour with the Boches, Gervaise mentioned the matter to him. He refused
+angrily at first. Then, after a careful inspection of the premises,
+particularly gazing upward to verify that the upper floors would not be
+weakened, he finally granted permission on condition there would be
+no expense to him. He had the Coupeaus sign a paper saying they would
+restore everything to its original state on the expiration of the lease.
+
+Coupeau brought in some friends of his that very evening--a mason, a
+carpenter and a painter. They would do this job in the evenings as a
+favor to him. Still, installing the door and cleaning up the room cost
+over one hundred francs, not counting the wine that kept the work going.
+Coupeau told his friends he'd pay them something later, out of the rent
+from his tenant.
+
+Then the furniture for the room had to be sorted out. Gervaise left
+mother Coupeau's wardrobe where it was, and added a table and two chairs
+taken from her own room. She had to buy a washing-stand and a bed with
+mattress and bedclothes, costing one hundred and thirty francs, which
+she was to pay off at ten francs a month. Although Lantier's twenty
+francs would be used to pay off these debts for ten months, there would
+be a nice little profit later.
+
+It was during the early days of June that the hatter moved in. The day
+before, Coupeau had offered to go with him and fetch his box, to save
+him the thirty sous for a cab. But the other became quite embarrassed,
+saying that the box was too heavy, as though he wished up to the last
+moment to hide the place where he lodged. He arrived in the afternoon
+towards three o'clock. Coupeau did not happen to be in. And Gervaise,
+standing at the shop door became quite pale on recognizing the box
+outside the cab. It was their old box, the one with which they had
+journeyed from Plassans, all scratched and broken now and held together
+by cords. She saw it return as she had often dreamt it would and it
+needed no great stretch of imagination to believe that the same cab,
+that cab in which that strumpet of a burnisher had played her such a
+foul trick, had brought the box back again. Meanwhile Boche was giving
+Lantier a helping hand. The laundress followed them in silence and
+feeling rather dazed. When they had deposited their burden in the middle
+of the room she said for the sake of saying something:
+
+"Well! That's a good thing finished, isn't it?"
+
+Then pulling herself together, seeing that Lantier, busy in undoing the
+cords was not even looking at her, she added:
+
+"Monsieur Boche, you must have a drink."
+
+And she went and fetched a quart of wine and some glasses.
+
+Just then Poisson passed along the pavement in uniform. She signaled to
+him, winking her eye and smiling. The policeman understood perfectly.
+When he was on duty and anyone winked their eye to him it meant a glass
+of wine. He would even walk for hours up and down before the laundry
+waiting for a wink. Then so as not to be seen, he would pass through the
+courtyard and toss off the liquor in secret.
+
+"Ah! ah!" said Lantier when he saw him enter, "it's you, Badingue."
+
+He called him Badingue for a joke, just to show how little he cared for
+the Emperor. Poisson put up with it in his stiff way without one knowing
+whether it really annoyed him or not. Besides the two men, though
+separated by their political convictions, had become very good friends.
+
+"You know that the Emperor was once a policeman in London," said Boche
+in his turn. "Yes, on my word! He used to take the drunken women to the
+station-house."
+
+Gervaise had filled three glasses on the table. She would not drink
+herself, she felt too sick at heart, but she stood there longing to
+see what the box contained and watching Lantier remove the last cords.
+Before raising the lid Lantier took his glass and clinked it with the
+others.
+
+"Good health."
+
+"Same to you," replied Boche and Poisson.
+
+The laundress filled the glasses again. The three men wiped their lips
+on the backs of their hands. And at last the hatter opened the box. It
+was full of a jumble of newspapers, books, old clothes and underlinen,
+in bundles. He took out successively a saucepan, a pair of boots, a bust
+of Ledru-Rollin with the nose broken, an embroidered shirt and a pair of
+working trousers. Gervaise could smell the odor of tobacco and that of a
+man whose linen wasn't too clean, one who took care only of the outside,
+of what people could see.
+
+The old hat was no longer in the left corner. There was a pincushion
+she did not recognize, doubtless a present from some woman. She became
+calmer, but felt a vague sadness as she continued to watch the objects
+that appeared, wondering if they were from her time or from the time of
+others.
+
+"I say, Badingue, do you know this?" resumed Lantier.
+
+He thrust under his nose a little book printed at Brussels. "The Amours
+of Napoleon III.," Illustrated with engravings. It related, among other
+anecdotes, how the Emperor had seduced a girl of thirteen, the daughter
+of a cook; and the picture represented Napoleon III., bare-legged, and
+also wearing the grand ribbon of the Legion of Honor, pursuing a little
+girl who was trying to escape his lust.
+
+"Ah! that's it exactly!" exclaimed Boche, whose slyly ridiculous
+instincts felt flattered by the sight. "It always happens like that!"
+
+Poisson was seized with consternation, and he could not find a word to
+say in the Emperor's defense. It was in a book, so he could not deny
+it. Then, Lantier, continuing to push the picture under his nose in a
+jeering way, he extended his arms and exclaimed:
+
+"Well, so what?"
+
+Lantier didn't reply. He busied himself arranging his books and
+newspapers on a shelf in the wardrobe. He seemed upset not to have a
+small bookshelf over his table, so Gervaise promised to get him one.
+He had "The History of Ten Years" by Louis Blanc (except for the first
+volume), Lamartine's "The Girondins" in installments, "The Mysteries of
+Paris" and "The Wandering Jew" by Eugene Sue, and a quantity of booklets
+on philosophic and humanitarian subjects picked up from used book
+dealers.
+
+His newspapers were his prized possessions, a collection made over a
+number of years. Whenever he read an article in a cafe that seemed to
+him to agree with his own ideas, he would buy that newspaper and keep
+it. He had an enormous bundle of them, papers of every date and every
+title, piled up in no discernable order. He patted them and said to the
+other two:
+
+"You see that? No one else can boast of having anything to match it.
+You can't imagine all that's in there. I mean, if they put into practice
+only half the ideas, it would clean up the social order overnight. That
+would be good medicine for your Emperor and all his stool pigeons."
+
+The policeman's red mustache and beard began to bristle on his pale face
+and he interrupted:
+
+"And the army, tell me, what are you going to do about that?"
+
+Lantier flew into a passion. He banged his fists down on the newspapers
+as he yelled:
+
+"I require the suppression of militarism, the fraternity of peoples.
+I require the abolition of privileges, of titles, and of monopolies.
+I require the equality of salaries, the division of benefits, the
+glorification of the protectorate. All liberties, do you hear? All of
+them! And divorce!"
+
+"Yes, yes, divorce for morality!" insisted Boche.
+
+Poisson had assumed a majestic air.
+
+"Yet if I won't have your liberties, I'm free to refuse them," he
+answered.
+
+Lantier was choking with passion.
+
+"If you don't want them--if you don't want them--" he replied. "No,
+you're not free at all! If you don't want them, I'll send you off to
+Devil's Island. Yes, Devil's Island with your Emperor and all the rats
+of his crew."
+
+They always quarreled thus every time they met. Gervaise, who did not
+like arguments, usually interfered. She roused herself from the torpor
+into which the sight of the box, full of the stale perfume of her past
+love, had plunged her, and she drew the three men's attention to the
+glasses.
+
+"Ah! yes," said Lantier, becoming suddenly calm and taking his glass.
+"Good health!"
+
+"Good health!" replied Boche and Poisson, clinking glasses with him.
+
+Boche, however, was moving nervously about, troubled by an anxiety as he
+looked at the policeman out of the corner of his eye.
+
+"All this between ourselves, eh, Monsieur Poisson?" murmured he at
+length. "We say and show you things to show off."
+
+But Poisson did not let him finish. He placed his hand upon his heart,
+as though to explain that all remained buried there. He certainly did
+not go spying about on his friends. Coupeau arriving, they emptied a
+second quart. Then the policeman went off by way of the courtyard and
+resumed his stiff and measured tread along the pavement.
+
+At the beginning of the new arrangement, the entire routine of the
+establishment was considerably upset. Lantier had his own separate room,
+with his own entrance and his own key. However, since they had decided
+not to close off the door between the rooms, he usually came and went
+through the shop. Besides, the dirty clothes were an inconvenience to
+Gervaise because her husband never made the case he had promised and she
+had to tuck the dirty laundry into any odd corner she could find. They
+usually ended up under the bed and this was not very pleasant on warm
+summer nights. She also found it a nuisance having to make up Etienne's
+bed every evening in the shop. When her employees worked late, the lad
+had to sleep in a chair until they finished.
+
+Goujet had mentioned sending Etienne to Lille where a machinist he knew
+was looking for apprentices. As the boy was unhappy at home and eager to
+be out on his own, Gervaise seriously considered the proposal. Her only
+fear was that Lantier would refuse. Since he had come to live with them
+solely to be near his son, surely he wouldn't want to lose him only two
+weeks after he moved in. However he approved whole-heartedly when she
+timidly broached the matter to him. He said that young men needed to
+see a bit of the country. The morning that Etienne left Lantier made a
+speech to him, kissed him and ended by saying:
+
+"Never forget that a workingman is not a slave, and that whoever is not
+a workingman is a lazy drone."
+
+The household was now able to get into the new routine. Gervaise became
+accustomed to having dirty laundry lying all around. Lantier was forever
+talking of important business deals. Sometimes he went out, wearing
+fresh linen and neatly combed. He would stay out all night and on his
+return pretend that he was completely exhausted because he had been
+discussing very serious matters. Actually he was merely taking life
+easy. He usually slept until ten. In the afternoons he would take a walk
+if the weather was nice. If it was raining, he would sit in the shop
+reading his newspaper. This atmosphere suited him. He always felt at his
+ease with women and enjoyed listening to them.
+
+Lantier first took his meals at Francois's, at the corner of the Rue
+des Poissonniers. But of the seven days in the week he dined with the
+Coupeaus on three or four; so much so that he ended by offering to board
+with them and to pay them fifteen francs every Saturday. From that time
+he scarcely ever left the house, but made himself completely at home
+there. Morning to night he was in the shop, even giving orders and
+attending to customers.
+
+Lantier didn't like the wine from Francois's, so he persuaded Gervaise
+to buy her wine from Vigouroux, the coal-dealer. Then he decided
+that Coudeloup's bread was not baked to his satisfaction, so he sent
+Augustine to the Viennese bakery in the Faubourg Poissonniers for their
+bread. He changed from the grocer Lehongre but kept the butcher, fat
+Charles, because of his political opinions. After a month he wanted all
+the cooking done with olive oil. Clemence joked that with a Provencal
+like him you could never wash out the oil stains. He wanted his omelets
+fried on both sides, as hard as pancakes. He supervised mother Coupeau's
+cooking, wanting his steaks cooked like shoe leather and with garlic on
+everything. He got angry if she put herbs in the salad.
+
+"They're just weeds and some of them might be poisonous," he declared.
+His favorite soup was made with over-boiled vermicelli. He would pour
+in half a bottle of olive oil. Only he and Gervaise could eat this soup,
+the others being too used to Parisian cooking.
+
+Little by little Lantier also came to mixing himself up in the affairs
+of the family. As the Lorilleuxs always grumbled at having to part with
+the five francs for mother Coupeau, he explained that an action could
+be brought against them. They must think that they had a set of fools
+to deal with! It was ten francs a month which they ought to give! And he
+would go up himself for the ten francs so boldly and yet so amiably
+that the chainmaker never dared refuse them. Madame Lerat also gave two
+five-franc pieces now. Mother Coupeau could have kissed Lantier's hands.
+He was, moreover, the grand arbiter in all the quarrels between the old
+woman and Gervaise. Whenever the laundress, in a moment of impatience,
+behaved roughly to her mother-in-law and the latter went and cried on
+her bed, he hustled them about and made them kiss each other, asking
+them if they thought themselves amusing with their bad tempers.
+
+And Nana, too; she was being brought up badly, according to his idea. In
+that he was right, for whenever the father spanked the child, the mother
+took her part, and if the mother, in her turn, boxed her ears, the
+father made a disturbance. Nana delighted at seeing her parents abuse
+each other, and knowing that she was forgiven beforehand, was up to all
+kinds of tricks. Her latest mania was to go and play in the blacksmith
+shop opposite; she would pass the entire day swinging on the shafts of
+the carts; she would hide with bands of urchins in the remotest corners
+of the gray courtyard, lighted up with the red glare of the forge; and
+suddenly she would reappear, running and shouting, unkempt and dirty
+and followed by the troop of urchins, as though a sudden clash of the
+hammers had frightened the ragamuffins away. Lantier alone could scold
+her; and yet she knew perfectly well how to get over him. This tricky
+little girl of ten would walk before him like a lady, swinging herself
+about and casting side glances at him, her eyes already full of vice.
+He had ended by undertaking her education: he taught her to dance and to
+talk patois.
+
+A year passed thus. In the neighborhood it was thought that Lantier had
+a private income, for this was the only way to account for the Coupeaus'
+grand style of living. No doubt Gervaise continued to earn money; but
+now that she had to support two men in doing nothing, the shop certainly
+could not suffice; more especially as the shop no longer had so good a
+reputation, customers were leaving and the workwomen were tippling from
+morning till night. The truth was that Lantier paid nothing, neither
+for rent nor board. During the first months he had paid sums on account,
+then he had contented himself with speaking of a large amount he was
+going to receive, with which later on he would pay off everything in a
+lump sum. Gervaise no longer dared ask him for a centime. She had the
+bread, the wine, the meat, all on credit. The bills increased everywhere
+at the rate of three and four francs a day. She had not paid a sou to
+the furniture dealer nor to the three comrades, the mason, the carpenter
+and the painter. All these people commenced to grumble, and she was no
+longer greeted with the same politeness at the shops.
+
+She was as though intoxicated by a mania for getting into debt; she
+tried to drown her thoughts, ordered the most expensive things, and gave
+full freedom to her gluttony now that she no longer paid for anything;
+she remained withal very honest at heart, dreaming of earning from
+morning to night hundreds of francs, though she did not exactly know
+how, to enable her to distribute handfuls of five-franc pieces to her
+tradespeople. In short, she was sinking, and as she sank lower and lower
+she talked of extending her business. Instead she went deeper into
+debt. Clemence left around the middle of the summer because there was
+no longer enough work for two women and she had not been paid in several
+weeks.
+
+During this impending ruin, Coupeau and Lantier were, in effect,
+devouring the shop and growing fat on the ruin of the establishment.
+At table they would challenge each other to take more helpings and slap
+their rounded stomachs to make more room for dessert.
+
+The great subject of conversation in the neighborhood was as to whether
+Lantier had really gone back to his old footing with Gervaise. On this
+point opinions were divided. According to the Lorilleuxs, Clump-clump
+was doing everything she could to hook Lantier again, but he would no
+longer have anything to do with her because she was getting old and
+faded and he had plenty of younger girls that were prettier. On the
+other hand, according to the Boches, Gervaise had gone back to her
+former mate the very first night, just as soon as poor Coupeau had gone
+to sleep. The picture was not pretty, but there were a lot of worse
+things in life, so folks ended by accepting the threesome as altogether
+natural. In fact, they thought them rather nice since there were never
+any fights and the outward decencies remained. Certainly if you stuck
+your nose into some of the other neighborhood households you could smell
+far worse things. So what if they slept together like a nice little
+family. It never kept the neighbors awake. Besides, everyone was still
+very much impressed by Lantier's good manners. His charm helped greatly
+to keep tongues from wagging. Indeed, when the fruit dealer insisted to
+the tripe seller that there had been no intimacies, the latter appeared
+to feel that this was really too bad, because it made the Coupeaus less
+interesting.
+
+Gervaise was quite at her ease in this matter, and not much troubled
+with these thoughts. Things reached the point that she was accused of
+being heartless. The family did not understand why she continued to bear
+a grudge against the hatter. Madame Lerat now came over every evening.
+She considered Lantier as utterly irresistible and said that most ladies
+would be happy to fall into his arms. Madame Boche declared that her own
+virtue would not be safe if she were ten years younger. There was a sort
+of silent conspiracy to push Gervaise into the arms of Lantier, as if
+all the women around her felt driven to satisfy their own longings
+by giving her a lover. Gervaise didn't understand this because she no
+longer found Lantier seductive. Certainly he had changed for the better.
+He had gotten a sort of education in the cafes and political meetings
+but she knew him well. She could pierce to the depths of his soul and
+she found things there that still gave her the shivers. Well, if the
+others found him so attractive, why didn't they try it themselves.
+In the end she suggested this one day to Virginie who seemed the most
+eager. Then, to excite Gervaise, Madame Lerat and Virginie told her of
+the love of Lantier and tall Clemence. Yes, she had not noticed anything
+herself; but as soon as she went out on an errand, the hatter would
+bring the workgirl into his room. Now people met them out together; he
+probably went to see her at her own place.
+
+"Well," said the laundress, her voice trembling slightly, "what can it
+matter to me?"
+
+She looked straight into Virginie's eyes. Did this woman still have it
+in for her?
+
+Virginie replied with an air of innocence:
+
+"It can't matter to you, of course. Only, you ought to advise him to
+break off with that girl, who is sure to cause him some unpleasantness."
+
+The worst of it was that Lantier, feeling himself supported by public
+opinion, changed altogether in his behavior towards Gervaise. Now,
+whenever he shook hands with her, he held her fingers for a minute
+between his own. He tried her with his glance, fixing a bold look upon
+her, in which she clearly read that he wanted her. If he passed behind
+her, he dug his knees into her skirt, or breathed upon her neck. Yet he
+waited a while before being rough and openly declaring himself. But
+one evening, finding himself alone with her, he pushed her before him
+without a word, and viewed her all trembling against the wall at the
+back of the shop, and tried to kiss her. It so chanced that Goujet
+entered just at that moment. Then she struggled and escaped. And all
+three exchanged a few words, as though nothing had happened. Goujet, his
+face deadly pale, looked on the ground, fancying that he had disturbed
+them, and that she had merely struggled so as not to be kissed before a
+third party.
+
+The next day Gervaise moved restlessly about the shop. She was miserable
+and unable to iron even a single handkerchief. She only wanted to
+see Goujet and explain to him how Lantier happened to have pinned her
+against the wall. But since Etienne had gone to Lille, she had hesitated
+to visit Goujet's forge where she felt she would be greeted by his
+fellow workers with secret laughter. This afternoon, however, she
+yielded to the impulse. She took an empty basket and went out under
+the pretext of going for the petticoats of her customer on Rue des
+Portes-Blanches. Then, when she reached Rue Marcadet, she walked very
+slowly in front of the bolt factory, hoping for a lucky meeting. Goujet
+must have been hoping to see her, too, for within five minutes he came
+out as if by chance.
+
+"You have been on an errand," he said, smiling. "And now you are on your
+way home."
+
+Actually Gervaise had her back toward Rue des Poissonniers. He only said
+that for something to say. They walked together up toward Montmartre,
+but without her taking his arm. They wanted to get a bit away from the
+factory so as not to seem to be having a rendezvous in front of it. They
+turned into a vacant lot between a sawmill and a button factory. It was
+like a small green meadow. There was even a goat tied to a stake.
+
+"It's strange," remarked Gervaise. "You'd think you were in the
+country."
+
+They went to sit under a dead tree. Gervaise placed the laundry basket by
+her feet.
+
+"Yes," Gervaise said, "I had an errand to do, and so I came out."
+
+She felt deeply ashamed and was afraid to try to explain. Yet
+she realized that they had come here to discuss it. It remained a
+troublesome burden.
+
+Then, all in a rush, with tears in her eyes, she told him of the
+death that morning of Madame Bijard, her washerwoman. She had suffered
+horrible agonies.
+
+"Her husband caused it by kicking her in the stomach," she said in a
+monotone. "He must have damaged her insides. _Mon Dieu!_ She was
+in agony for three days with her stomach all swelled up. Plenty of
+scoundrels have been sent to the galleys for less than that, but the
+courts won't concern themselves with a wife-beater. Especially since the
+woman said she had hurt herself falling. She wanted to save him from the
+scaffold, but she screamed all night long before she died."
+
+Goujet clenched his hands and remained silent.
+
+"She weaned her youngest only two weeks ago, little Jules," Gervaise
+went on. "That's lucky for the baby, he won't have to suffer. Still,
+there's the child Lalie and she has two babies to look after. She isn't
+eight yet, but she's already sensible. Her father will beat her now even
+more than before."
+
+Goujet gazed at her silently. Then, his lips trembling:
+
+"You hurt me yesterday, yes, you hurt me badly."
+
+Gervaise turned pale and clasped her hands as he continued:
+
+"I thought it would happen. You should have told me, you should have
+trusted me enough to confess what was happening, so as not to leave me
+thinking that--"
+
+Goujet could not finish the sentence. Gervaise stood up, realizing that
+he thought she had gone back with Lantier as the neighbors asserted.
+Stretching her arms toward him, she cried:
+
+"No, no, I swear to you. He was pushing against me, trying to kiss me,
+but his face never even touched mine. It's true, and that was the first
+time he tried. Oh, I swear on my life, on the life of my children, oh,
+believe me!"
+
+Goujet was shaking his head. Gervaise said slowly:
+
+"Monsieur Goujet, you know me well. You know that I do not lie. On my
+word of honor, it never happened, and it never will, do you understand?
+Never! I'd be the lowest of the low if it ever happened, and I wouldn't
+deserve the friendship of an honest man like you."
+
+She seemed so sincere that he took her hand and made her sit down again.
+He could breathe freely; his heart rejoiced. This was the first time he
+had ever held her hand like this. He pressed it in his own and they both
+sat quietly for a time.
+
+"I know your mother doesn't like me," Gervaise said in a low voice.
+"Don't bother to deny it. We owe you so much money."
+
+He squeezed her hand tightly. He didn't want to talk of money. Finally
+he said:
+
+"I've been thinking of something for a long time. You are not happy
+where you are. My mother tells me things are getting worse for you.
+Well, then, we can go away together."
+
+She didn't understand at first and stared at him, startled by this
+sudden declaration of a love that he had never mentioned.
+
+Finally she asked:
+
+"What do you mean?"
+
+"We'll get away from here," he said, looking down at the ground.
+"We'll go live somewhere else, in Belgium, if you wish. With both of us
+working, we would soon be very comfortable."
+
+Gervaise flushed. She thought she would have felt less shame if he
+had taken her in his arms and kissed her. Goujet was an odd fellow,
+proposing to elope, just the way it happens in novels. Well, she had
+seen plenty of workingmen making up to married women, but they never
+took them even as far as Saint-Denis.
+
+"Ah, Monsieur Goujet," she murmured, not knowing what else to say.
+
+"Don't you see?" he said. "There would only be the two of us. It annoys
+me having others around."
+
+Having regained her self-possession, however, she refused his proposal.
+
+"It's impossible, Monsieur Goujet. It would be very wrong. I'm a married
+woman and I have children. We'd soon regret it. I know you care for me,
+and I care for you also, too much to let you do anything foolish. It's
+much better to stay just as we are. We have respect for each other and
+that's a lot. It's been a comfort to me many times. When people in our
+situation stay on the straight, it is better in the end."
+
+He nodded his head as he listened. He agreed with her and was unable
+to offer any arguments. Suddenly he pulled her into his arms and kissed
+her, crushing her. Then he let her go and said nothing more about their
+love. She wasn't angry. She felt they had earned that small moment of
+pleasure.
+
+Goujet now didn't know what to do with his hands, so he went around
+picking dandelions and tossing them into her basket. This amused him and
+gradually soothed him. Gervaise was becoming relaxed and cheerful. When
+they finally left the vacant lot they walked side by side and talked
+of how much Etienne liked being at Lille. Her basket was full of yellow
+dandelions.
+
+Gervaise, at heart, did not feel as courageous when with Lantier as she
+said. She was, indeed, perfectly resolved not to hear his flattery, even
+with the slightest interest; but she was afraid, if ever he should touch
+her, of her old cowardice, of that feebleness and gloominess into which
+she allowed herself to glide, just to please people. Lantier, however,
+did not avow his affection. He several times found himself alone with
+her and kept quiet. He seemed to think of marrying the tripe-seller, a
+woman of forty-five and very well preserved. Gervaise would talk of the
+tripe-seller in Goujet's presence, so as to set his mind at ease. She
+would say to Virginie and Madame Lerat, whenever they were singing the
+hatter's praises, that he could very well do without her admiration,
+because all the women of the neighborhood were smitten with him.
+
+Coupeau went braying about everywhere that Lantier was a friend and a
+true one. People might jabber about them; he knew what he knew and did
+not care a straw for their gossip, for he had respectability on his
+side. When they all three went out walking on Sundays, he made his wife
+and the hatter walk arm-in-arm before him, just by way of swaggering in
+the street; and he watched the people, quite prepared to administer a
+drubbing if anyone had ventured on the least joke. It was true that he
+regarded Lantier as a bit of a high flyer. He accused him of avoiding
+hard liquor and teased him because he could read and spoke like an
+educated man. Still, he accepted him as a regular comrade. They
+were ideally suited to each other and friendship between men is more
+substantial than love for a woman.
+
+Coupeau and Lantier were forever going out junketing together. Lantier
+would now borrow money from Gervaise--ten francs, twenty francs at a
+time, whenever he smelt there was money in the house. Then on those days
+he would keep Coupeau away from his work, talk of some distant errand
+and take him with him. Then seated opposite to each other in the corner
+of some neighboring eating house, they would guzzle fancy dishes which
+one cannot get at home and wash them down with bottles of expensive
+wine. The zinc-worker would have preferred to booze in a less
+pretentious place, but he was impressed by the aristocratic tastes of
+Lantier, who would discover on the bill of fare dishes with the most
+extraordinary names.
+
+It was hard to understand a man so hard to please. Maybe it was from
+being a southerner. Lantier didn't like anything too rich and argued
+about every dish, sending back meat that was too salty or too peppery.
+He hated drafts. If a door was left open, he complained loudly. At the
+same time, he was very stingy, only giving the waiter a tip of two sous
+for a meal of seven or eight francs. He was treated with respect in
+spite of that.
+
+The pair were well known along the exterior boulevards, from Batignolles
+to Belleville. They would go to the Grand Rue des Batignolles to eat
+tripe cooked in the Caen style. At the foot of Montmartre they obtained
+the best oysters in the neighborhood at the "Town of Bar-le-Duc." When
+they ventured to the top of the height as far as the "Galette Windmill"
+they had a stewed rabbit. The "Lilacs," in the Rue des Martyrs, had a
+reputation for their calf's head, whilst the restaurant of the "Golden
+Lion" and the "Two Chestnut Trees," in the Chaussee Clignancourt, served
+them stewed kidneys which made them lick their lips. Usually they went
+toward Belleville where they had tables reserved for them at some places
+of such excellent repute that you could order anything with your eyes
+closed. These eating sprees were always surreptitious and the next day
+they would refer to them indirectly while playing with the potatoes
+served by Gervaise. Once Lantier brought a woman with him to the
+"Galette Windmill" and Coupeau left immediately after dessert.
+
+One naturally cannot both guzzle and work; so that ever since the hatter
+was made one of the family, the zinc-worker, who was already pretty
+lazy, had got to the point of never touching a tool. When tired of doing
+nothing, he sometimes let himself be prevailed upon to take a job. Then
+his comrade would look him up and chaff him unmercifully when he found
+him hanging to his knotty cord like a smoked ham, and he would call
+to him to come down and have a glass of wine. And that settled it. The
+zinc-worker would send the job to blazes and commence a booze which
+lasted days and weeks. Oh, it was a famous booze--a general review of
+all the dram shops of the neighborhood, the intoxication of the morning
+slept off by midday and renewed in the evening; the goes of "vitriol"
+succeeded one another, becoming lost in the depths of the night,
+like the Venetian lanterns of an illumination, until the last candle
+disappeared with the last glass! That rogue of a hatter never kept on
+to the end. He let the other get elevated, then gave him the slip and
+returned home smiling in his pleasant way. He could drink a great deal
+without people noticing it. When one got to know him well one could only
+tell it by his half-closed eyes and his overbold behavior to women.
+The zinc-worker, on the contrary, became quite disgusting, and could no
+longer drink without putting himself into a beastly state.
+
+Thus, towards the beginning of November, Coupeau went in for a booze
+which ended in a most dirty manner, both for himself and the others. The
+day before he had been offered a job. This time Lantier was full of fine
+sentiments; he lauded work, because work ennobles a man. In the morning
+he even rose before it was light, for he gravely wished to accompany his
+friend to the workshop, honoring in him the workman really worthy of the
+name. But when they arrived before the "Little Civet," which was just
+opening, they entered to have a plum in brandy, only one, merely to
+drink together to the firm observance of a good resolution. On a
+bench opposite the counter, and with his back against the wall,
+Bibi-the-Smoker was sitting smoking with a sulky look on his face.
+
+"Hallo! Here's Bibi having a snooze," said Coupeau. "Are you down in the
+dumps, old bloke?"
+
+"No, no," replied the comrade, stretching his arm. "It's the employers
+who disgust me. I sent mine to the right about yesterday. They're all
+toads and scoundrels."
+
+Bibi-the-Smoker accepted a plum. He was, no doubt, waiting there on that
+bench for someone to stand him a drink. Lantier, however, took the part
+of the employers; they often had some very hard times, as he who had
+been in business himself well knew. The workers were a bad lot, forever
+getting drunk! They didn't take their work seriously. Sometimes they
+quit in the middle of a job and only returned when they needed something
+in their pockets. Then Lantier would switch his attack to the employers.
+They were nasty exploiters, regular cannibals. But he could sleep with a
+clear conscience as he had always acted as a friend to his employees. He
+didn't want to get rich the way others did.
+
+"Let's be off, my boy," he said, speaking to Coupeau. "We must be going
+or we shall be late."
+
+Bibi-the-Smoker followed them, swinging his arms. Outside the sun
+was scarcely rising, the pale daylight seemed dirtied by the muddy
+reflection of the pavement; it had rained the night before and it
+was very mild. The gas lamps had just been turned out; the Rue des
+Poissonniers, in which shreds of night rent by the houses still floated,
+was gradually filling with the dull tramp of the workmen descending
+towards Paris. Coupeau, with his zinc-worker's bag slung over his
+shoulder, walked along in the imposing manner of a fellow who feels in
+good form for a change. He turned round and asked:
+
+"Bibi, do you want a job. The boss told me to bring a pal if I could."
+
+"No thanks," answered Bibi-the-Smoker; "I'm purging myself. You should
+ask My-Boots. He was looking for something yesterday. Wait a minute.
+My-Boots is most likely in there."
+
+And as they reached the bottom of the street they indeed caught sight of
+My-Boots inside Pere Colombe's. In spite of the early hour l'Assommoir
+was flaring, the shutters down, the gas lighted. Lantier stood at the
+door, telling Coupeau to make haste, because they had only ten minutes
+left.
+
+"What! You're going to work for that rascal Bourguignon?" yelled
+My-Boots, when the zinc-worker had spoken to him. "You'll never catch
+me in his hutch again! No, I'd rather go till next year with my tongue
+hanging out of my mouth. But, old fellow, you won't stay three days, and
+it's I who tell you so."
+
+"Really now, is it such a dirty hole?" asked Coupeau anxiously.
+
+"Oh, it's about the dirtiest. You can't move there. The ape's for ever
+on your back. And such queer ways too--a missus who always says you're
+drunk, a shop where you mustn't spit. I sent them to the right about the
+first night, you know."
+
+"Good; now I'm warned. I shan't stop there for ever. I'll just go this
+morning to see what it's like; but if the boss bothers me, I'll catch
+him up and plant him upon his missus, you know, bang together like two
+fillets of sole!"
+
+Then Coupeau thanked his friend for the useful information and shook his
+hand. As he was about to leave, My-Boots cursed angrily. Was that lousy
+Bourguignon going to stop them from having a drink? Weren't they free
+any more? He could well wait another five minutes. Lantier came in to
+share in the round and they stood together at the counter. My-Boots,
+with his smock black with dirt and his cap flattened on his head had
+recently been proclaimed king of pigs and drunks after he had eaten a
+salad of live beetles and chewed a piece of a dead cat.
+
+"Say there, old Borgia," he called to Pere Colombe, "give us some of
+your yellow stuff, first class mule's wine."
+
+And when Pere Colombe, pale and quiet in his blue-knitted waistcoat, had
+filled the four glasses, these gentlemen tossed them off, so as not to
+let the liquor get flat.
+
+"That does some good when it goes down," murmured Bibi-the-Smoker.
+
+The comic My-Boots had a story to tell. He was so drunk on the Friday
+that his comrades had stuck his pipe in his mouth with a handful of
+plaster. Anyone else would have died of it; he merely strutted about and
+puffed out his chest.
+
+"Do you gentlemen require anything more?" asked Pere Colombe in his oily
+voice.
+
+"Yes, fill us up again," said Lantier. "It's my turn."
+
+Now they were talking of women. Bibi-the-Smoker had taken his girl to an
+aunt's at Montrouge on the previous Sunday. Coupeau asked for the news
+of the "Indian Mail," a washerwoman of Chaillot who was known in the
+establishment. They were about to drink, when My-Boots loudly called to
+Goujet and Lorilleux who were passing by. They came just to the door,
+but would not enter. The blacksmith did not care to take anything. The
+chainmaker, pale and shivering, held in his pocket the gold chains
+he was going to deliver; and he coughed and asked them to excuse him,
+saying that the least drop of brandy would nearly make him split his
+sides.
+
+"There are hypocrites for you!" grunted My-Boots. "I bet they have their
+drinks on the sly."
+
+And when he had poked his nose in his glass he attacked Pere Colombe.
+
+"Vile druggist, you've changed the bottle! You know it's no good your
+trying to palm your cheap stuff off on me."
+
+The day had advanced; a doubtful sort of light lit up l'Assommoir, where
+the landlord was turning out the gas. Coupeau found excuses for his
+brother-in-law who could not stand drink, which after all was no crime.
+He even approved Goujet's behavior for it was a real blessing never to
+be thirsty. And as he talked of going off to his work Lantier, with his
+grand air of a gentleman, sharply gave him a lesson. One at least stood
+one's turn before sneaking off; one should not leave one's friends like
+a mean blackguard, even when going to do one's duty.
+
+"Is he going to badger us much longer about his work?" cried My-Boots.
+
+"So this is your turn, sir?" asked Pere Colombe of Coupeau.
+
+The latter paid. But when it came to Bibi-the-Smoker's turn he
+whispered to the landlord who refused with a shake of the head. My-Boots
+understood, and again set to abusing the old Jew Colombe. What! A rascal
+like him dared to behave in that way to a comrade! Everywhere else one
+could get drink on tick! It was only in such low boozing-dens that one
+was insulted! The landlord remained calm, leaning his big fists on the
+edge of the counter. He politely said:
+
+"Lend the gentleman some money--that will be far simpler."
+
+"_Mon Dieu!_ Yes, I'll lend him some," yelled My-Boots. "Here! Bibi,
+throw this money in his face, the limb of Satan!"
+
+Then, excited and annoyed at seeing Coupeau with his bag slung over his
+shoulder, he continued speaking to the zinc-worker:
+
+"You look like a wet-nurse. Drop your brat. It'll give you a hump-back."
+
+Coupeau hesitated an instant; and then, quietly, as though he had only
+made up his mind after considerable reflection, he laid his bag on the
+ground saying:
+
+"It's too late now. I'll go to Bourguignon's after lunch. I'll tell him
+that the missus was ill. Listen, Pere Colombe, I'll leave my tools under
+this seat and I'll call for them at twelve o'clock."
+
+Lantier gave his blessing to this arrangement with an approving nod.
+Labor was necessary, yes, but when you're with good friends, courtesy
+comes first. Now the four had five hours of idleness before them. They
+were full of noisy merriment. Coupeau was especially relieved. They had
+another round and then went to a small bar that had a billiard table.
+
+At first Lantier turned up his nose at this establishment because it
+was rather shabby. So much liquor had been spilled on the billiard table
+that the balls stuck to it. Once the game got started though, Lantier
+recovered his good humor and began to flaunt his extraordinary knack
+with a cue.
+
+When lunch time came Coupeau had an idea. He stamped his feet and cried:
+
+"We must go and fetch Salted-Mouth. I know where he's working. We'll
+take him to Mere Louis' to have some pettitoes."
+
+The idea was greeted with acclamation. Yes, Salted-Mouth, otherwise
+Drink-without-Thirst, was no doubt in want of some pettitoes. They
+started off. Coupeau took them to the bolt factory in the Rue Marcadet.
+As they arrived a good half hour before the time the workmen came out,
+the zinc-worker gave a youngster two sous to go in and tell Salted-Mouth
+that his wife was ill and wanted him at once. The blacksmith made his
+appearance, waddling in his walk, looking very calm, and scenting a
+tuck-out.
+
+"Ah! you jokers!" said he, as soon as he caught sight of them hiding in
+a doorway. "I guessed it. Well, what are we going to eat?"
+
+At mother Louis', whilst they sucked the little bones of the pettitoes,
+they again fell to abusing the employers. Salted-Mouth, otherwise
+Drink-without-Thirst, related that they had a most pressing order to
+execute at the shop. Oh! the ape was pleasant for the time being. One
+could be late, and he would say nothing; he no doubt considered himself
+lucky when one turned up at all. At any rate, no boss would dare to
+throw Salted-Mouth out the door, because you couldn't find lads of his
+capacity any more. After the pettitoes they had an omelet. When each of
+them had emptied his bottle, Mere Louis brought out some Auvergne wine,
+thick enough to cut with a knife. The party was really warming up.
+
+"What do you think is the ape's latest idea?" cried Salted-Mouth at
+dessert. "Why, he's been and put a bell up in his shed! A bell! That's
+good for slaves. Ah, well! It can ring to-day! They won't catch me again
+at the anvil! For five days past I've been sticking there; I may give
+myself a rest now. If he deducts anything, I'll send him to blazes."
+
+"I," said Coupeau, with an air of importance, "I'm obliged to leave you;
+I'm off to work. Yes, I promised my wife. Amuse yourselves; my spirit
+you know remains with my pals."
+
+The others chuffed him. But he seemed so decided that they all
+accompanied him when he talked of going to fetch his tools from Pere
+Colombe's. He took his bag from under the seat and laid it on the ground
+before him whilst they had a final drink. But at one o'clock the party
+was still standing drinks. Then Coupeau, with a bored gesture placed the
+tools back again under the seat. They were in his way; he could not get
+near the counter without stumbling against them. It was too absurd;
+he would go to Bourguignon's on the morrow. The other four, who were
+quarrelling about the question of salaries, were not at all surprised
+when the zinc-worker, without any explanation, proposed a little stroll
+on the Boulevard, just to stretch their legs. They didn't go very far.
+They seemed to have nothing to say to each other out in the fresh air.
+Without even consulting each other with so much as a nudge, they slowly
+and instinctively ascended the Rue des Poissonniers, where they went to
+Francois's and had a glass of wine out of the bottle. Lantier pushed his
+comrades inside the private room at the back; it was a narrow place with
+only one table in it, and was separated from the shop by a dull glazed
+partition. He liked to do his drinking in private rooms because it
+seemed more respectable. Didn't they like it here? It was as comfortable
+as being at home. You could even take a nap here without being
+embarrassed. He called for the newspaper, spread it out open before
+him, and looked through it, frowning the while. Coupeau and My-Boots had
+commenced a game of piquet. Two bottles of wine and five glasses were
+scattered about the table.
+
+They emptied their glasses. Then Lantier read out loud:
+
+"A frightful crime has just spread consternation throughout the Commune
+of Gaillon, Department of Seine-et-Marne. A son has killed his father
+with blows from a spade in order to rob him of thirty sous."
+
+They all uttered a cry of horror. There was a fellow whom they would
+have taken great pleasure in seeing guillotined! No, the guillotine was
+not enough; he deserved to be cut into little pieces. The story of an
+infanticide equally aroused their indignation; but the hatter, highly
+moral, found excuses for the woman, putting all the wrong on the back
+of her husband; for after all, if some beast of a man had not put the
+wretched woman into the way of bleak poverty, she could not have drowned
+it in a water closet.
+
+They were most delighted though by the exploit of a Marquis who, coming
+out of a dance hall at two in the morning, had defended himself against
+an attack by three blackguards on the Boulevard des Invalides. Without
+taking off his gloves, he had disposed of the first two villains by
+ramming his head into their stomachs, and then had marched the third one
+off to the police. What a man! Too bad he was a noble.
+
+"Listen to this now," continued Lantier. "Here's some society news:
+'A marriage is arranged between the eldest daughter of the Countess de
+Bretigny and the young Baron de Valancay, aide-de-camp to His Majesty.
+The wedding trousseau will contain more than three hundred thousand
+francs' worth of lace."
+
+"What's that to us?" interrupted Bibi-the-Smoker. "We don't want to know
+the color of her mantle. The girl can have no end of lace; nevertheless
+she'll see the folly of loving."
+
+As Lantier seemed about to continue his reading, Salted-Mouth, otherwise
+Drink-without-Thirst, took the newspaper from him and sat upon it,
+saying:
+
+"Ah! no, that's enough! This is all the paper is good for."
+
+Meanwhile, My-Boots, who had been looking at his hand, triumphantly
+banged his fist down on the table. He scored ninety-three.
+
+"I've got the Revolution!" he exulted.
+
+"You're out of luck, comrade," the others told Coupeau.
+
+They ordered two fresh bottles. The glasses were filled up again as fast
+as they were emptied, the booze increased. Towards five o'clock it began
+to get disgusting, so much so that Lantier kept very quiet, thinking of
+how to give the others the slip; brawling and throwing the wine
+about was no longer his style. Just then Coupeau stood up to make
+the drunkard's sign of the cross. Touching his head he pronounced
+Montpernasse, then Menilmonte as he brought his hand to his right
+shoulder, Bagnolet giving himself a blow in the chest, and wound up by
+saying stewed rabbit three times as he hit himself in the pit of the
+stomach. Then the hatter took advantage of the clamor which greeted the
+performance of this feat and quietly made for the door. His comrades did
+not even notice his departure. He had already had a pretty good dose.
+But once outside he shook himself and regained his self-possession; and
+he quietly made for the shop, where he told Gervaise that Coupeau was
+with some friends.
+
+Two days passed by. The zinc-worker had not returned. He was reeling
+about the neighborhood, but no one knew exactly where. Several persons,
+however, stated that they had seen him at mother Baquet's, at the
+"Butterfly," and at the "Little Old Man with a Cough." Only some said
+that he was alone, whilst others affirmed that he was in the company of
+seven or eight drunkards like himself. Gervaise shrugged her shoulders
+in a resigned sort of way. _Mon Dieu!_ She just had to get used to it.
+She never ran about after her old man; she even went out of her way if
+she caught sight of him inside a wineshop, so as to not anger him; and
+she waited at home till he returned, listening at night-time to hear if
+he was snoring outside the door. He would sleep on a rubbish heap, or on
+a seat, or in a piece of waste land, or across a gutter. On the morrow,
+after having only badly slept off his booze of the day before, he would
+start off again, knocking at the doors of all the consolation dealers,
+plunging afresh into a furious wandering, in the midst of nips of
+spirits, glasses of wine, losing his friends and then finding them
+again, going regular voyages from which he returned in a state of
+stupor, seeing the streets dance, the night fall and the day break,
+without any other thought than to drink and sleep off the effects
+wherever he happened to be. When in the latter state, the world was
+ended so far as he was concerned. On the second day, however, Gervaise
+went to Pere Colombe's l'Assommoir to find out something about him; he
+had been there another five times, they were unable to tell her anything
+more. All she could do was to take away his tools which he had left
+under a seat.
+
+In the evening Lantier, seeing that the laundress seemed very worried,
+offered to take her to a music-hall, just by way of passing a pleasant
+hour or two. She refused at first, she was in no mood for laughing.
+Otherwise she would not have said, "No," for the hatter made the
+proposal in too straightforward a manner for her to feel any mistrust.
+He seemed to feel for her in quite a paternal way. Never before had
+Coupeau slept out two nights running. So that in spite of herself, she
+would go every ten minutes to the door, with her iron in her hand, and
+look up and down the street to see if her old man was coming.
+
+It might be that Coupeau had broken a leg, or fallen under a wagon and
+been crushed and that might be good riddance to bad rubbish. She saw no
+reason for cherishing in her heart any affection for a filthy character
+like him, but it was irritating, all the same, to have to wonder every
+night whether he would come in or not. When it got dark, Lantier again
+suggested the music-hall, and this time she accepted. She decided it
+would be silly to deny herself a little pleasure when her husband had
+been out on the town for three days. If he wasn't coming in, then she
+might as well go out herself. Let the entire dump burn up if it felt
+like it. She might even put a torch to it herself. She was getting tired
+of the boring monotony of her present life.
+
+They ate their dinner quickly. Then, when she went off at eight o'clock,
+arm-in-arm with the hatter, Gervaise told mother Coupeau and Nana to go
+to bed at once. The shop was shut and the shutters up. She left by the
+door opening into the courtyard and gave Madame Boche the key, asking
+her, if her pig of a husband came home, to have the kindness to put him
+to bed. The hatter was waiting for her under the big doorway, arrayed
+in his best and whistling a tune. She had on her silk dress. They walked
+slowly along the pavement, keeping close to each other, lighted up by
+the glare from the shop windows which showed them smiling and talking
+together in low voices.
+
+The music-hall was in the Boulevard de Rochechouart. It had originally
+been a little cafe and had been enlarged by means of a kind of wooden
+shed erected in the courtyard. At the door a string of glass globes
+formed a luminous porch. Tall posters pasted on boards stood upon the
+ground, close to the gutter.
+
+"Here we are," said Lantier. "To-night, first appearance of Mademoiselle
+Amanda, serio-comic."
+
+Then he caught sight of Bibi-the-Smoker, who was also reading the
+poster. Bibi had a black eye; some punch he had run up against the day
+before.
+
+"Well! Where's Coupeau?" inquired the hatter, looking about. "Have you,
+then, lost Coupeau?"
+
+"Oh! long ago, since yesterday," replied the other. "There was a bit of
+a free-for-all on leaving mother Baquet's. I don't care for fisticuffs.
+We had a row, you know, with mother Baquet's pot-boy, because he wanted
+to make us pay for a quart twice over. Then I left. I went and had a bit
+of a snooze."
+
+He was still yawning; he had slept eighteen hours at a stretch. He was,
+moreover, quite sobered, with a stupid look on his face, and his jacket
+smothered with fluff; for he had no doubt tumbled into bed with his
+clothes on.
+
+"And you don't know where my husband is, sir?" asked the laundress.
+
+"Well, no, not a bit. It was five o'clock when we left mother Baquet's.
+That's all I know about it. Perhaps he went down the street. Yes, I
+fancy now that I saw him go to the 'Butterfly' with a coachman. Oh! how
+stupid it is! Really, we deserve to be shot."
+
+Lantier and Gervaise spent a very pleasant evening at the music-hall.
+At eleven o'clock when the place closed, they strolled home without
+hurrying themselves. The cold was quite sharp. People seemed to be in
+groups. Some of the girls were giggling in the darkness as their men
+pressed close to them. Lantier was humming one of Mademoiselle Amanda's
+songs. Gervaise, with her head spinning from too much drink, hummed the
+refrain with him. It had been very warm at the music-hall and the two
+drinks she had had, along with all the smoke, had upset her stomach a
+bit. She had been quite impressed with Mademoiselle Amanda. She wouldn't
+dare to appear in public wearing so little, but she had to admit that
+the lady had lovely skin.
+
+"Everyone's asleep," said Gervaise, after ringing three times without
+the Boches opening the door.
+
+At length the door opened, but inside the porch it was very dark, and
+when she knocked at the window of the concierge's room to ask for her
+key, the concierge, who was half asleep, pulled out some rigmarole
+which she could make nothing of at first. She eventually understood that
+Poisson, the policeman, had brought Coupeau home in a frightful state,
+and that the key was no doubt in the lock.
+
+"The deuce!" murmured Lantier, when they had entered, "whatever has he
+been up to here? The stench is abominable."
+
+There was indeed a most powerful stench. As Gervaise went to look
+for matches, she stepped into something messy. After she succeeded in
+lighting a candle, a pretty sight met their eyes. Coupeau appeared to
+have disgorged his very insides. The bed was splattered all over, so was
+the carpet, and even the bureau had splashes on its sides. Besides that,
+he had fallen from the bed where Poisson had probably thrown him, and
+was snoring on the floor in the midst of the filth like a pig wallowing
+in the mire, exhaling his foul breath through his open mouth. His grey
+hair was straggling into the puddle around his head.
+
+"Oh! the pig! the pig!" repeated Gervaise, indignant and exasperated.
+"He's dirtied everything. No, a dog wouldn't have done that, even a dead
+dog is cleaner."
+
+They both hesitated to move, not knowing where to place their feet.
+Coupeau had never before come home and put the bedroom into such a
+shocking state. This sight was a blow to whatever affection his wife
+still had for him. Previously she had been forgiving and not seriously
+offended, even when he had been blind drunk. But this made her sick; it
+was too much. She wouldn't have touched Coupeau for the world, and just
+the thought of this filthy bum touching her caused a repugnance such as
+she might have felt had she been required to sleep beside the corpse of
+someone who had died from a terrible disease.
+
+"Oh, I must get into that bed," murmured she. "I can't go and sleep in
+the street. Oh! I'll crawl into it foot first."
+
+She tried to step over the drunkard, but had to catch hold of a corner
+of the chest of drawers to save herself from slipping in the mess.
+Coupeau completely blocked the way to the bed. Then, Lantier, who
+laughed to himself on seeing that she certainly could not sleep on her
+own pillow that night, took hold of her hand, saying, in a low and angry
+voice:
+
+"Gervaise, he is a pig."
+
+She understood what he meant and pulled her hand free. She sighed to
+herself, and, in her bewilderment, addressed him familiarly, as in the
+old days.
+
+"No, leave me alone, Auguste. Go to your own bed. I'll manage somehow to
+lie at the foot of the bed."
+
+"Come, Gervaise, don't be foolish," resumed he. "It's too abominable;
+you can't remain here. Come with me. He won't hear us. What are you
+afraid of?"
+
+"No," she replied firmly, shaking her head vigorously. Then, to show
+that she would remain where she was, she began to take off her clothes,
+throwing her silk dress over a chair. She was quickly in only her
+chemise and petticoat. Well, it was her own bed. She wanted to sleep in
+her own bed and made two more attempts to reach a clean corner of the
+bed.
+
+Lantier, having no intention of giving up, whispered things to her.
+
+What a predicament she was in, with a louse of a husband that prevented
+her from crawling under her own blankets and a low skunk behind her just
+waiting to take advantage of the situation to possess her again. She
+begged Lantier to be quiet. Turning toward the small room where Nana and
+mother Coupeau slept, she listened anxiously. She could hear only steady
+breathing.
+
+"Leave me alone, Auguste," she repeated. "You'll wake them. Be
+sensible."
+
+Lantier didn't answer, but just smiled at her. Then he began to kiss her
+on the ear just as in the old days.
+
+Gervaise felt like sobbing. Her strength deserted her; she felt a great
+buzzing in her ears, a violent tremor passed through her. She advanced
+another step forward. And she was again obliged to draw back. It was not
+possible, the disgust was too great. She felt on the verge of vomiting
+herself. Coupeau, overpowered by intoxication, lying as comfortably as
+though on a bed of down, was sleeping off his booze, without life in his
+limbs, and with his mouth all on one side. The whole street might have
+entered and laughed at him, without a hair of his body moving.
+
+"Well, I can't help it," she faltered. "It's his own fault. _Mon Dieu!_
+He's forcing me out of my own bed. I've no bed any longer. No, I can't
+help it. It's his own fault."
+
+She was trembling so she scarcely knew what she was doing. While Lantier
+was urging her into his room, Nana's face appeared at one of the glass
+panes in the door of the little room. The young girl, pale from sleep,
+had awakened and gotten out of bed quietly. She stared at her
+father lying in his vomit. Then, she stood watching until her mother
+disappeared into Lantier's room. She watched with the intensity and the
+wide-open eyes of a vicious child aflame with curiosity.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER IX
+
+That winter mother Coupeau nearly went off in one of her coughing fits.
+Each December she could count on her asthma keeping her on her back for
+two and three weeks at a time. She was no longer fifteen, she would be
+seventy-three on Saint-Anthony's day. With that she was very rickety,
+getting a rattling in her throat for nothing at all, though she was
+plump and stout. The doctor said she would go off coughing, just time
+enough to say: "Good-night, the candle's out!"
+
+When she was in her bed mother Coupeau became positively unbearable. It
+is true though that the little room in which she slept with Nana was not
+at all gay. There was barely room for two chairs between the beds. The
+wallpaper, a faded gray, hung loose in long strips. The small window
+near the ceiling let in only a dim light. It was like a cavern. At
+night, as she lay awake, she could listen to the breathing of the
+sleeping Nana as a sort of distraction; but in the day-time, as there
+was no one to keep her company from morning to night, she grumbled and
+cried and repeated to herself for hours together, as she rolled her head
+on the pillow:
+
+"Good heavens! What a miserable creature I am! Good heavens! What a
+miserable creature I am! They'll leave me to die in prison, yes, in
+prison!"
+
+As soon as anyone called, Virginie or Madame Boche, to ask after her
+health, she would not reply directly, but immediately started on her
+list of complaints: "Oh, I pay dearly for the food I eat here. I'd be
+much better off with strangers. I asked for a cup of tisane and they
+brought me an entire pot of hot water. It was a way of saying that I
+drank too much. I brought Nana up myself and she scurries away in her
+bare feet every morning and I never see her again all day. Then at night
+she sleeps so soundly that she never wakes up to ask me if I'm in pain.
+I'm just a nuisance to them. They're waiting for me to die. That will
+happen soon enough. I don't even have a son any more; that laundress has
+taken him from me. She'd beat me to death if she wasn't afraid of the
+law."
+
+Gervaise was indeed rather hasty at times. The place was going to the
+dogs, everyone's temper was getting spoilt and they sent each other to
+the right about for the least word. Coupeau, one morning that he had a
+hangover, exclaimed: "The old thing's always saying she's going to die,
+and yet she never does!" The words struck mother Coupeau to the heart.
+They frequently complained of how much she cost them, observing that
+they would save a lot of money when she was gone.
+
+When at her worst that winter, one afternoon, when Madame Lorilleux and
+Madame Lerat had met at her bedside, mother Coupeau winked her eye as
+a signal to them to lean over her. She could scarcely speak. She rather
+hissed than said in a low voice:
+
+"It's becoming indecent. I heard them last night. Yes, Clump-clump and
+the hatter. And they were kicking up such a row together! Coupeau's too
+decent for her."
+
+And she related in short sentences, coughing and choking between each,
+that her son had come home dead drunk the night before. Then, as she
+was not asleep, she was easily able to account for all the noises, of
+Clump-clump's bare feet tripping over the tiled floor, the hissing voice
+of the hatter calling her, the door between the two rooms gently closed,
+and the rest. It must have lasted till daylight. She could not tell the
+exact time, because, in spite of her efforts, she had ended by falling
+into a dose.
+
+"What's most disgusting is that Nana might have heard everything,"
+continued she. "She was indeed restless all the night, she who usually
+sleeps so sound. She tossed about and kept turning over as though there
+had been some lighted charcoal in her bed."
+
+The other two women did not seem at all surprised.
+
+"Of course!" murmured Madame Lorilleux, "it probably began the very
+first night. But as it pleases Coupeau, we've no business to interfere.
+All the same, it's not very respectable."
+
+"As for me," declared Madame Lerat through clenched teeth, "if I'd been
+there, I'd have thrown a fright into them. I'd have shouted something,
+anything. A doctor's maid told me once that the doctor had told her that
+a surprise like that, at a certain moment, could strike a woman dead.
+If she had died right there, that would have been well, wouldn't it? She
+would have been punished right where she had sinned."
+
+It wasn't long until the entire neighborhood knew that Gervaise visited
+Lantier's room every night. Madame Lorilleux was loudly indignant,
+calling her brother a poor fool whose wife had shamed him. And her poor
+mother, forced to live in the midst of such horrors. As a result, the
+neighbors blamed Gervaise. Yes, she must have led Lantier astray; you
+could see it in her eyes. In spite of the nasty gossip, Lantier was
+still liked because he was always so polite. He always had candy or
+flowers to give the ladies. _Mon Dieu!_ Men shouldn't be expected to
+push away women who threw themselves at them. There was no excuse for
+Gervaise. She was a disgrace. The Lorilleuxs used to bring Nana up
+to their apartment in order to find out more details from her, their
+godchild. But Nana would put on her expression of innocent stupidity
+and lower her long silky eyelashes to hide the fire in her eyes as she
+replied.
+
+In the midst of this general indignation, Gervaise lived quietly on,
+feeling tired out and half asleep. At first she considered herself very
+sinful and felt a disgust for herself. When she left Lantier's room she
+would wash her hands and scrub herself as if trying to get rid of an
+evil stain. If Coupeau then tried to joke with her, she would fly into a
+passion, and run and shiveringly dress herself in the farthest corner
+of the shop; neither would she allow Lantier near her soon after her
+husband had kissed her. She would have liked to have changed her skin as
+she changed men. But she gradually became accustomed to it. Soon it was
+too much trouble to scrub herself each time. Her thirst for happiness
+led her to enjoy as much as she could the difficult situation. She had
+always been disposed to make allowances for herself, so why not for
+others? She only wanted to avoid causing trouble. As long as the
+household went along as usual, there was nothing to complain about.
+
+Then, after all, she could not be doing anything to make Coupeau stop
+drinking; matters were arranged so easily to the general satisfaction.
+One is generally punished if one does what is not right. His
+dissoluteness had gradually become a habit. Now it was as regular an
+affair as eating and drinking. Each time Coupeau came home drunk, she
+would go to Lantier's room. This was usually on Mondays, Tuesdays
+and Wednesdays. Sometimes on other nights, if Coupeau was snoring too
+loudly, she would leave in the middle of the night. It was not that she
+cared more for Lantier, but just that she slept better in his room.
+
+Mother Coupeau never dared speak openly of it. But after a quarrel,
+when the laundress had bullied her, the old woman was not sparing in her
+allusions. She would say that she knew men who were precious fools and
+women who were precious hussies, and she would mutter words far
+more biting, with the sharpness of language pertaining to an old
+waistcoat-maker. The first time this had occurred Gervaise looked at her
+straight in the face without answering. Then, also avoiding going into
+details, she began to defend herself with reasons given in a general
+sort of way. When a woman had a drunkard for a husband, a pig who lived
+in filth, that woman was to be excused if she sought for cleanliness
+elsewhere. Once she pointed out that Lantier was just as much her
+husband as Coupeau was. Hadn't she known him since she was fourteen and
+didn't she have children by him?
+
+Anyway, she'd like to see anyone make trouble for her. She wasn't
+the only one around the Rue de la Goutte-d'Or. Madame Vigouroux, the
+coal-dealer had a merry dance from morning to night. Then there was the
+grocer's wife, Madame Lehongre with her brother-in-law. _Mon Dieu!_ What
+a slob of a fellow. He wasn't worth touching with a shovel. Even
+the neat little clockmaker was said to have carried on with his own
+daughter, a streetwalker. Ah, the entire neighborhood. Oh, she knew
+plenty of dirt.
+
+One day when mother Coupeau was more pointed than usual in her
+observations, Gervaise had replied to her, clinching her teeth:
+
+"You're confined to your bed and you take advantage of it. Listen!
+You're wrong. You see that I behave nicely to you, for I've never thrown
+your past life into your teeth. Oh! I know all about it. No, don't
+cough. I've finished what I had to say. It's only to request you to mind
+your own business, that's all!"
+
+The old woman almost choked. On the morrow, Goujet having called about
+his mother's washing when Gervaise happened to be out, mother Coupeau
+called him to her and kept him some time seated beside her bed. She knew
+all about the blacksmith's friendship, and had noticed that for some
+time past he had looked dismal and wretched, from a suspicion of the
+melancholy things that were taking place. So, for the sake of gossiping,
+and out of revenge for the quarrel of the day before, she bluntly told
+him the truth, weeping and complaining as though Gervaise's wicked
+behavior did her some special injury. When Goujet quitted the little
+room, he leant against the wall, almost stifling with grief. Then, when
+the laundress returned home, mother Coupeau called to her that Madame
+Goujet required her to go round with her clothes, ironed or not; and she
+was so animated that Gervaise, seeing something was wrong, guessed
+what had taken place and had a presentiment of the unpleasantness which
+awaited her.
+
+Very pale, her limbs already trembling, she placed the things in a
+basket and started off. For years past she had not returned the Goujets
+a sou of their money. The debt still amounted to four hundred and
+twenty-five francs. She always spoke of her embarrassments and received
+the money for the washing. It filled her with shame, because she seemed
+to be taking advantage of the blacksmith's friendship to make a fool of
+him. Coupeau, who had now become less scrupulous, would chuckle and say
+that Goujet no doubt had fooled around with her a bit, and had so paid
+himself. But she, in spite of the relations she had fallen into with
+Coupeau, would indignantly ask her husband if he already wished to eat
+of that sort of bread. She would not allow anyone to say a word against
+Goujet in her presence; her affection for the blacksmith remained like
+a last shred of her honor. Thus, every time she took the washing home to
+those worthy people, she felt a spasm of her heart the moment she put a
+foot on their stairs.
+
+"Ah! it's you, at last!" said Madame Goujet sharply, on opening the door
+to her. "When I'm in want of death, I'll send you to fetch him."
+
+Gervaise entered, greatly embarrassed, not even daring to mutter an
+excuse. She was no longer punctual, never came at the time arranged, and
+would keep her customers waiting for days on end. Little by little she
+was giving way to a system of thorough disorder.
+
+"For a week past I've been expecting you," continued the lace-mender.
+"And you tell falsehoods too; you send your apprentice to me with all
+sorts of stories; you are then busy with my things, you will deliver
+them the same evening, or else you've had an accident, the bundle's
+fallen into a pail of water. Whilst all this is going on, I waste my
+time, nothing turns up, and it worries me exceedingly. No, you're most
+unreasonable. Come, what have you in your basket? Is everything there
+now? Have you brought me the pair of sheets you've been keeping back
+for a month past, and the chemise which was missing the last time you
+brought home the washing?"
+
+"Yes, yes," murmured Gervaise, "I have the chemise. Here it is."
+
+But Madame Goujet cried out. That chemise was not hers, she would have
+nothing to do with it. Her things were changed now; it was too bad! Only
+the week before, there were two handkerchiefs which hadn't her mark on
+them. It was not to her taste to have clothes coming from no one knew
+where. Besides that, she liked to have her own things.
+
+"And the sheets?" she resumed. "They're lost, aren't they? Well!
+Woman, you must see about them, for I insist upon having them to-morrow
+morning, do you hear?"
+
+There was a silence which particularly bothered Gervaise when she
+noticed that the door to Goujet's room was open. If he was in there, it
+was most annoying that he should hear these just criticisms. She made
+no reply, meekly bowing her head, and placing the laundry on the bed as
+quickly as possible.
+
+Matters became worse when Madame Goujet began to look over the things,
+one by one. She took hold of them and threw them down again saying:
+
+"Ah! you don't get them up nearly so well as you used to do. One
+can't compliment you every day now. Yes, you've taken to mucking your
+work--doing it in a most slovenly way. Just look at this shirt-front,
+it's scorched, there's the mark of the iron on the plaits; and the
+buttons have all been torn off. I don't know how you manage it, but
+there's never a button left on anything. Oh! now, here's a petticoat
+body which I shall certainly not pay you for. Look there! The dirt's
+still on it, you've simply smoothed it over. So now the things are not
+even clean!"
+
+She stopped whilst she counted the different articles. Then she
+exclaimed:
+
+"What! This is all you've brought? There are two pairs of stockings, six
+towels, a table-cloth, and several dish-cloths short. You're regularly
+trifling with me, it seems! I sent word that you were to bring me
+everything, ironed or not. If your apprentice isn't here on the hour
+with the rest of the things, we shall fall out, Madame Coupeau, I warn
+you."
+
+At this moment Goujet coughed in his room. Gervaise slightly started.
+_Mon Dieu!_ How she was treated before him. And she remained standing
+in the middle of the rooms, embarrassed and confused and waiting for the
+dirty clothes; but after making up the account Madame Goujet had quietly
+returned to her seat near the window, and resumed the mending of a lace
+shawl.
+
+"And the dirty things?" timidly inquired the laundress.
+
+"No, thank you," replied the old woman, "there will be no laundry this
+week."
+
+Gervaise turned pale. She was no longer to have the washing. Then she
+quite lost her head; she was obliged to sit down on a chair, for
+her legs were giving way under her. She did not attempt to vindicate
+herself. All that she would find to say was:
+
+"Is Monsieur Goujet ill?"
+
+Yes, he was not well. He had been obliged to come home instead of
+returning to the forge, and he had gone to lie down on his bed to get a
+rest. Madame Goujet talked gravely, wearing her black dress as usual
+and her white face framed in her nun-like coif. The pay at the forge had
+been cut again. It was now only seven francs a day because the machines
+did so much of the work. This forced her to save money every way she
+could. She would do her own washing from now on. It would naturally have
+been very helpful if the Coupeaus had been able to return her the money
+lent them by her son; but she was not going to set the lawyers on them,
+as they were unable to pay. As she was talking about the debt, Gervaise
+lowered her eyes in embarrassment.
+
+"All the same," continued the lace-maker, "by pinching yourselves a
+little you could manage to pay it off. For really now, you live very
+well; and spend a great deal, I'm sure. If you were only to pay off ten
+francs a month--"
+
+She was interrupted by the sound of Goujet's voice as he called:
+
+"Mamma! Mamma!"
+
+And when she returned to her seat, which was almost immediately, she
+changed the conversation. The blacksmith had doubtless begged her not to
+ask Gervaise for money; but in spite of herself she again spoke of the
+debt at the expiration of five minutes. Oh! She had foreseen long
+ago what was now happening. Coupeau was drinking all that the laundry
+business brought in and dragging his wife down with him. Her son would
+never have loaned the money if he had only listened to her. By now he
+would have been married, instead of miserably sad with only unhappiness
+to look forward to for the rest of his life. She grew quite stern and
+angry, even accusing Gervaise of having schemed with Coupeau to take
+advantage of her foolish son. Yes, some women were able to play the
+hypocrite for years, but eventually the truth came out.
+
+"Mamma! Mamma!" again called Goujet, but louder this time.
+
+She rose from her seat and when she returned she said, as she resumed
+her lace mending:
+
+"Go in, he wishes to see you."
+
+Gervaise, all in a tremble left the door open. This scene filled her
+with emotion because it was like an avowal of their affection before
+Madame Goujet. She again beheld the quiet little chamber, with its
+narrow iron bedstead, and papered all over with pictures, the whole
+looking like the room of some girl of fifteen. Goujet's big body was
+stretched on the bed. Mother Coupeau's disclosures and the things his
+mother had been saying seemed to have knocked all the life out of his
+limbs. His eyes were red and swollen, his beautiful yellow beard was
+still wet. In the first moment of rage he must have punched away at
+his pillow with his terrible fists, for the ticking was split and the
+feathers were coming out.
+
+"Listen, mamma's wrong," said he to the laundress in a voice that was
+scarcely audible. "You owe me nothing. I won't have it mentioned again."
+
+He had raised himself up and was looking at her. Big tears at once
+filled his eyes.
+
+"Do you suffer, Monsieur Goujet?" murmured she. "What is the matter with
+you? Tell me!"
+
+"Nothing, thanks. I tired myself with too much work yesterday. I will
+rest a bit."
+
+Then, his heart breaking, he could not restrain himself and burst out:
+
+"_Mon Dieu!_ Ah! _Mon Dieu!_ It was never to be--never. You swore it.
+And now it is--it is! Ah, it pains me too much, leave me!"
+
+And with his hand he gently and imploringly motioned to her to go. She
+did not draw nearer to the bed. She went off as he requested her to,
+feeling stupid, unable to say anything to soothe him. When in the other
+room she took up her basket; but she did not go home. She stood there
+trying to find something to say. Madame Goujet continued her mending
+without raising her head. It was she who at length said:
+
+"Well! Good-night; send me back my things and we will settle up
+afterwards."
+
+"Yes, it will be best so--good-night," stammered Gervaise.
+
+She took a last look around the neatly arranged room and thought as she
+shut the door that she seemed to be leaving some part of her better self
+behind. She plodded blindly back to the laundry, scarcely knowing where
+she was going.
+
+When Gervaise arrived, she found mother Coupeau out of her bed, sitting
+on a chair by the stove. Gervaise was too tired to scold her. Her bones
+ached as though she had been beaten and she was thinking that her life
+was becoming too hard to bear. Surely a quick death was the only escape
+from the pain in her heart.
+
+After this, Gervaise became indifferent to everything. With a vague
+gesture of her hand she would send everybody about their business. At
+each fresh worry she buried herself deeper in her only pleasure, which
+was to have her three meals a day. The shop might have collapsed.
+So long as she was not beneath it, she would have gone off willingly
+without a chemise to her back. And the little shop was collapsing, not
+suddenly, but little by little, morning and evening. One by one
+the customers got angry, and sent their washing elsewhere. Monsieur
+Madinier, Mademoiselle Remanjou, the Boches themselves had returned to
+Madame Fauconnier, where they could count on great punctuality. One
+ends by getting tired of asking for a pair of stockings for three weeks
+straight, and of putting on shirts with grease stains dating from the
+previous Sunday. Gervaise, without losing a bite, wished them a pleasant
+journey, and spoke her mind about them, saying that she was precious
+glad she would no longer have to poke her nose into their filth. The
+entire neighborhood could quit her; that would relieve her of the piles
+of stinking junk and give her less work to do.
+
+Now her only customers were those who didn't pay regularly, the
+street-walkers, and women like Madame Gaudron, whose laundry smelled so
+bad that not one of the laundresses on the Rue Neuve would take it. She
+had to let Madame Putois go, leaving only her apprentice, squint-eyed
+Augustine, who seemed to grow more stupid as time passed. Frequently
+there was not even enough work for the two of them and they sat on
+stools all afternoon doing nothing.
+
+Whilst idleness and poverty entered, dirtiness naturally entered also.
+One would never have recognised that beautiful blue shop, the color
+of heaven, which had once been Gervaise's pride. Its window-frames and
+panes, which were never washed, were covered from top to bottom with the
+splashes of the passing vehicles. On the brass rods in the windows
+were displayed three grey rags left by customers who had died in the
+hospital. And inside it was more pitiable still; the dampness of the
+clothes hung up at the ceiling to dry had loosed all the wallpaper; the
+Pompadour chintz hung in strips like cobwebs covered with dust; the big
+stove, broken and in holes from the rough use of the poker, looked
+in its corner like the stock in trade of a dealer in old iron; the
+work-table appeared as though it had been used by a regiment, covered as
+it was with wine and coffee stains, sticky with jam, greasy from spilled
+gravy.
+
+Gervaise was so at ease among it all that she never even noticed the
+shop was getting filthy. She became used to it all, just as she got
+used to wearing torn skirts and no longer washing herself carefully. The
+disorder was like a warm nest.
+
+Her own ease was her sole consideration; she did not care a pin for
+anything else. The debts, though still increasing, no longer troubled
+her. Her honesty gradually deserted her; whether she would be able to
+pay or not was altogether uncertain, and she preferred not to think
+about it. When her credit was stopped at one shop, she would open
+an account at some other shop close by. She was in debt all over the
+neighborhood, she owed money every few yards. To take merely the Rue de
+la Goutte-d'Or, she no longer dared pass in front of the grocer's, nor
+the charcoal-dealer's, nor the greengrocer's; and this obliged her,
+whenever she required to be at the wash-house, to go round by the
+Rue des Poissonniers, which was quite ten minutes out of her way. The
+tradespeople came and treated her as a swindler. One evening the dealer
+from whom she had purchased Lantier's furniture made a scene in the
+street. Scenes like this upset her at the time, but were soon forgotten
+and never spoiled her appetite. What a nerve to bother her like that
+when she had no money to pay. They were all robbers anyway and it served
+them right to have to wait. Well, she'd have to go bankrupt, but she
+didn't intend to fret about it now.
+
+Meanwhile mother Coupeau had recovered. For another year the household
+jogged along. During the summer months there was naturally a little more
+work--the white petticoats and the cambric dresses of the street-walkers
+of the exterior Boulevard. The catastrophe was slowly approaching; the
+home sank deeper into the mire every week; there were ups and downs,
+however--days when one had to rub one's stomach before the empty
+cupboard, and others when one ate veal enough to make one burst. Mother
+Coupeau was for ever being seen in the street, hiding bundles under
+her apron, and strolling in the direction of the pawn-place in the Rue
+Polonceau. She strutted along with the air of a devotee going to mass;
+for she did not dislike these errands; haggling about money amused her;
+this crying up of her wares like a second-hand dealer tickled the old
+woman's fancy for driving hard bargains. The clerks knew her well and
+called her "Mamma Four Francs," because she always demanded four francs
+when they offered three, on bundles no bigger than two sous' worth of
+butter.
+
+At the start, Gervaise took advantage of good weeks to get things back
+from the pawn-shops, only to put them back again the next week. Later
+she let things go altogether, selling her pawn tickets for cash.
+
+One thing alone gave Gervaise a pang--it was having to pawn her clock to
+pay an acceptance for twenty francs to a bailiff who came to seize her
+goods. Until then, she had sworn rather to die of hunger than to
+part with her clock. When mother Coupeau carried it away in a little
+bonnet-box, she sunk on to a chair, without a particle of strength left
+in her arms, her eyes full of tears, as though a fortune was being torn
+from her. But when mother Coupeau reappeared with twenty-five francs,
+the unexpected loan, the five francs profit consoled her; she at once
+sent the old woman out again for four sous' worth of brandy in a glass,
+just to toast the five-franc piece.
+
+The two of them would often have a drop together, when they were on good
+terms with each other. Mother Coupeau was very successful at bringing
+back a full glass hidden in her apron pocket without spilling a drop.
+Well, the neighbors didn't need to know, did they. But the neighbors
+knew perfectly well. This turned the neighborhood even more against
+Gervaise. She was devouring everything; a few more mouthfuls and the
+place would be swept clean.
+
+In the midst of this general demolishment, Coupeau continued to prosper.
+The confounded tippler was as well as well could be. The sour wine and
+the "vitriol" positively fattened him. He ate a great deal, and laughed
+at that stick Lorilleux, who accused drink of killing people, and
+answered him by slapping himself on the stomach, the skin of which was
+so stretched by the fat that it resembled the skin of a drum. He would
+play him a tune on it, the glutton's vespers, with rolls and beats loud
+enough to have made a quack's fortune. Lorilleux, annoyed at not having
+any fat himself, said that it was soft and unhealthy. Coupeau ignored
+him and went on drinking more and more, saying it was for his health's
+sake.
+
+His hair was beginning to turn grey and his face to take on the
+drunkard's hue of purplish wine. He continued to act like a mischievous
+child. Well, it wasn't his concern if there was nothing about the
+place to eat. When he went for weeks without work he became even more
+difficult.
+
+Still, he was always giving Lantier friendly slaps on the back. People
+swore he had no suspicion at all. Surely something terrible would happen
+if he ever found out. Madame Lerat shook her head at this. His sister
+said she had known of husbands who didn't mind at all.
+
+Lantier wasn't wasting away either. He took great care of himself,
+measuring his stomach by the waist-band of his trousers, with the
+constant dread of having to loosen the buckle or draw it tighter; for
+he considered himself just right, and out of coquetry neither desired to
+grow fatter nor thinner. That made him hard to please in the matter of
+food, for he regarded every dish from the point of view of keeping his
+waist as it was. Even when there was not a sou in the house, he required
+eggs, cutlets, light and nourishing things. Since he was sharing the
+lady of the house, he considered himself to have a half interest in
+everything and would pocket any franc pieces he saw lying about. He kept
+Gervaise running here and there and seemed more at home than Coupeau.
+Nana was his favorite because he adored pretty little girls, but he paid
+less and less attention to Etienne, since boys, according to him, ought
+to know how to take care of themselves. If anyone came to see Coupeau
+while he was out, Lantier, in shirt sleeves and slippers, would come
+out of the back room with the bored expression of a husband who has been
+disturbed, saying he would answer for Coupeau as it was all the same.
+
+Between these two gentlemen, Gervaise had nothing to laugh about. She
+had nothing to complain of as regards her health, thank goodness! She
+was growing too fat. But two men to coddle was often more than she could
+manage. Ah! _Mon Dieu!_ one husband is already too much for a woman! The
+worst was that they got on very well together, the rogues. They never
+quarreled; they would chuckle in each other's faces, as they sat of
+an evening after dinner, their elbows on the table; they would rub up
+against one another all the live-long day, like cats which seek and
+cultivate their pleasure. The days when they came home in a rage, it was
+on her that they vented it. Go it! hammer away at the animal! She had
+a good back; it made them all the better friends when they yelled
+together. And it never did for her to give them tit-for-tat. In the
+beginning, whenever one of them yelled at her, she would appeal to the
+other, but this seldom worked. Coupeau had a foul mouth and called her
+horrible things. Lantier chose his insults carefully, but they often
+hurt her even more.
+
+But one can get used to anything. Soon their nasty remarks and all the
+wrongs done her by these two men slid off her smooth skin like water off
+a duck's back. It was even easier to have them angry, because when they
+were in good moods they bothered her too much, never giving her time to
+get a bonnet ironed.
+
+Yes, Coupeau and Lantier were wearing her out. The zinc-worker, sure
+enough, lacked education; but the hatter had too much, or at least he
+had education in the same way that dirty people have a white shirt, with
+uncleanliness underneath it. One night, she dreamt that she was on the
+edge of a wall; Coupeau was knocking her into it with a blow of his
+fist, whilst Lantier was tickling her in the ribs to make her fall
+quicker. Well! That resembled her life. It was no surprise if she was
+becoming slipshod. The neighbors weren't fair in blaming her for the
+frightful habits she had fallen into. Sometimes a cold shiver ran
+through her, but things could have been worse, so she tried to make
+the best of it. Once she had seen a play in which the wife detested
+her husband and poisoned him for the sake of her lover. Wasn't it more
+sensible for the three of them to live together in peace? In spite of
+her debts and poverty she thought she was quite happy and could live in
+peace if only Coupeau and Lantier would stop yelling at her so much.
+
+Towards the autumn, unfortunately, things became worse. Lantier
+pretended he was getting thinner, and pulled a longer face over the
+matter every day. He grumbled at everything, sniffed at the dishes of
+potatoes--a mess he could not eat, he would say, without having the
+colic. The least jangling now turned to quarrels, in which they accused
+one another of being the cause of all their troubles, and it was a devil
+of a job to restore harmony before they all retired for the night.
+
+Lantier sensed a crisis coming and it exasperated him to realise that
+this place was already so thoroughly cleaned out that he could see the
+day coming when he'd have to take his hat and seek elsewhere for his bed
+and board. He had become accustomed to this little paradise where he was
+nicely treated by everybody. He should have blamed himself for eating
+himself out of house and home, but instead he blamed the Coupeaus for
+letting themselves be ruined in less than two years. He thought Gervaise
+was too extravagant. What was going to happen to them now?
+
+One evening in December they had no dinner at all. There was not a
+radish left. Lantier, who was very glum, went out early, wandering about
+in search of some other den where the smell of the kitchen would bring
+a smile to one's face. He would now remain for hours beside the stove
+wrapt in thought. Then, suddenly, he began to evince a great friendship
+for the Poissons. He no longer teased the policeman and even went so far
+as to concede that the Emperor might not be such a bad fellow after all.
+He seemed to especially admire Virginie. No doubt he was hoping to board
+with them. Virginie having acquainted him with her desire to set up in
+some sort of business, he agreed with everything she said, and declared
+that her idea was a most brilliant one. She was just the person for
+trade--tall, engaging and active. Oh! she would make as much as she
+liked. The capital had been available for some time, thanks to an
+inheritance from an aunt. Lantier told her of all the shopkeepers who
+were making fortunes. The time was right for it; you could sell anything
+these days. Virginie, however, hesitated; she was looking for a shop
+that was to be let, she did not wish to leave the neighborhood.
+Then Lantier would take her into corners and converse with her in an
+undertone for ten minutes at a time. He seemed to be urging her to do
+something in spite of herself; and she no longer said "no," but appeared
+to authorize him to act. It was as a secret between them, with winks and
+words rapidly exchanged, some mysterious understanding which betrayed
+itself even in their handshakings.
+
+From this moment the hatter would covertly watch the Coupeaus whilst
+eating their dry bread, and becoming very talkative again, would deafen
+them with his continual jeremiads. All day long Gervaise moved in the
+midst of that poverty which he so obligingly spread out. _Mon Dieu!_ he
+wasn't thinking of himself; he would go on starving with his friends as
+long as they liked. But look at it with common sense. They owed at least
+five hundred francs in the neighborhood. Besides which, they were two
+quarters' rent behind with the rent, which meant another two hundred and
+fifty francs; the landlord, Monsieur Marescot, even spoke of having them
+evicted if they did not pay him by the first of January. Finally the
+pawn-place had absorbed everything, one could not have got together
+three francs' worth of odds and ends, the clearance had been so
+complete; the nails remained in the walls and that was all and perhaps
+there were two pounds of them at three sous the pound. Gervaise,
+thoroughly entangled in it all, her nerves quite upset by this
+calculation, would fly into a passion and bang her fists down upon the
+table or else she would end by bursting into tears like a fool. One
+night she exclaimed:
+
+"I'll be off to-morrow! I prefer to put the key under the door and to
+sleep on the pavement rather than continue to live in such frights."
+
+"It would be wiser," said Lantier slyly, "to get rid of the lease if you
+could find someone to take it. When you are both decided to give up the
+shop--"
+
+She interrupted him more violently:
+
+"At once, at once! Ah! it'll be a good riddance!"
+
+Then the hatter became very practical. On giving up the lease one
+would no doubt get the new tenant to be responsible for the two overdue
+quarters. And he ventured to mention the Poissons, he reminded them
+that Virginie was looking for a shop; theirs would perhaps suit her. He
+remembered that he had heard her say she longed for one just like it.
+But when Virginie's name was mentioned the laundress suddenly regained
+her composure. We'll see how things go along. When you're angry you
+always talk of quitting, but it isn't so easy when you just stop to
+think about it.
+
+During the following days it was in vain that Lantier harped upon the
+subject. Gervaise replied that she had seen herself worse off and had
+pulled through. How would she be better off when she no longer had her
+shop? That would not put bread into their mouths. She would, on the
+contrary, engage some fresh workwomen and work up a fresh connection.
+
+Lantier made the mistake of mentioning Virginie again. This stirred
+Gervaise into furious obstinacy. No! Never! She had always had her
+suspicions of what was in Virginie's heart. Virginie only wanted to
+humiliate her. She would rather turn it over to the first woman to come
+in from the street than to that hypocrite who had been waiting for
+years to see her fail. Yes, Virginie still had in mind that fight in the
+wash-house. Well, she'd be wiser to forget about it, unless she wanted
+another one now.
+
+In the face of this flow of angry retorts, Lantier began by attacking
+Gervaise. He called her stupid and stuck-up. He even went so far as to
+abuse Coupeau, accusing him of not knowing how to make his wife respect
+his friend. Then, realising that passion would compromise everything, he
+swore that he would never again interest himself in the affairs of
+other people, for one always got more kicks than thanks; and indeed he
+appeared to have given up all idea of talking them into parting with
+the lease, but he was really watching for a favorable opportunity of
+broaching the subject again and of bringing the laundress round to his
+views.
+
+January had now arrived; the weather was wretched, both damp and cold.
+Mother Coupeau, who had coughed and choked all through December, was
+obliged to take to her bed after Twelfth-night. It was her annuity,
+which she expected every winter. This winter though, those around her
+said she'd never come out of her bedroom except feet first. Indeed, her
+gaspings sounded like a death rattle. She was still fat, but one eye was
+blind and one side of her face was twisted. The doctor made one call and
+didn't return again. They kept giving her tisanes and going to check on
+her every hour. She could no longer speak because her breathing was so
+difficult.
+
+One Monday evening, Coupeau came home totally drunk. Ever since his
+mother was in danger, he had lived in a continual state of deep emotion.
+When he was in bed, snoring soundly, Gervaise walked about the place for
+a while. She was in the habit of watching over mother Coupeau during a
+part of the night. Nana had showed herself very brave, always sleeping
+beside the old woman, and saying that if she heard her dying, she would
+wake everyone. Since the invalid seemed to be sleeping peacefully this
+night, Gervaise finally yielded to the appeals of Lantier to come into
+his room for a little rest. They only kept a candle alight, standing
+on the ground behind the wardrobe. But towards three o'clock Gervaise
+abruptly jumped out of bed, shivering and oppressed with anguish. She
+thought she had felt a cold breath pass over her body. The morsel
+of candle had burnt out; she tied on her petticoats in the dark, all
+bewildered, and with feverish hands. It was not till she got into the
+little room, after knocking up against the furniture, that she was able
+to light a small lamp. In the midst of the oppressive silence of
+night, the zinc-worker's snores alone sounded as two grave notes. Nana,
+stretched on her back, was breathing gently between her pouting lips.
+And Gervaise, holding down the lamp which caused big shadows to dance
+about the room, cast the light on mother Coupeau's face, and beheld it
+all white, the head lying on the shoulder, the eyes wide open. Mother
+Coupeau was dead.
+
+Gently, without uttering a cry, icy cold yet prudent, the laundress
+returned to Lantier's room. He had gone to sleep again. She bent over
+him and murmured:
+
+"Listen, it's all over, she's dead."
+
+Heavy with sleep, only half awake, he grunted at first:
+
+"Leave me alone, get into bed. We can't do her any good if she's dead."
+
+Then he raised himself on his elbow and asked:
+
+"What's the time?"
+
+"Three o'clock."
+
+"Only three o'clock! Get into bed quick. You'll catch cold. When it's
+daylight, we'll see what's to be done."
+
+But she did not listen to him, she dressed herself completely. Bundling
+himself in the blankets, Lantier muttered about how stubborn women were.
+What was the hurry to announce a death in the house? He was irritated at
+having his sleep spoiled by such gloomy matters.
+
+Meanwhile, Gervaise had moved her things back into her own room. Then
+she felt free to sit down and cry, no longer fearful of being caught
+in Lantier's room. She had been fond of mother Coupeau and felt a deep
+sorrow at her loss. She sat, crying by herself, her sobs loud in the
+silence, but Coupeau never stirred. She had spoken to him and even
+shaken him and finally decided to let him sleep. He would be more of a
+nuisance if he woke up.
+
+On returning to the body, she found Nana sitting up in bed rubbing her
+eyes. The child understood, and with her vicious urchin's curiosity,
+stretched out her neck to get a better view of her grandmother; she
+said nothing but she trembled slightly, surprised and satisfied in the
+presence of this death which she had been promising herself for two days
+past, like some nasty thing hidden away and forbidden to children; and
+her young cat-like eyes dilated before that white face all emaciated at
+the last gasp by the passion of life, she felt that tingling in her back
+which she felt behind the glass door when she crept there to spy on what
+was no concern of chits like her.
+
+"Come, get up," said her mother in a low voice. "You can't remain here."
+
+She regretfully slid out of bed, turning her head round and not taking
+her eyes off the corpse. Gervaise was much worried about her, not
+knowing where to put her till day-time. She was about to tell her to
+dress herself, when Lantier, in his trousers and slippers, rejoined her.
+He could not get to sleep again, and was rather ashamed of his behavior.
+Then everything was arranged.
+
+"She can sleep in my bed," murmured he. "She'll have plenty of room."
+
+Nana looked at her mother and Lantier with her big, clear eyes and put
+on her stupid air, the same as on New Year's day when anyone made her a
+present of a box of chocolate candy. And there was certainly no need
+for them to hurry her. She trotted off in her night-gown, her bare feet
+scarcely touching the tiled floor; she glided like a snake into the bed,
+which was still quite warm, and she lay stretched out and buried in it,
+her slim body scarcely raising the counterpane. Each time her mother
+entered the room she beheld her with her eyes sparkling in her
+motionless face--not sleeping, not moving, very red with excitement, and
+appearing to reflect on her own affairs.
+
+Lantier assisted Gervaise in dressing mother Coupeau--and it was not an
+easy matter, for the body was heavy. One would never have thought that
+that old woman was so fat and so white. They put on her stockings, a
+white petticoat, a short linen jacket and a white cap--in short, the
+best of her linen. Coupeau continued snoring, a high note and a low one,
+the one sharp, the other flat. One could almost have imagined it to be
+church music accompanying the Good Friday ceremonies. When the corpse
+was dressed and properly laid out on the bed, Lantier poured himself out
+a glass of wine, for he felt quite upset. Gervaise searched the chest
+of drawers to find a little brass crucifix which she had brought
+from Plassans, but she recollected that mother Coupeau had, in all
+probability, sold it herself. They had lighted the stove, and they
+passed the rest of the night half asleep on chairs, finishing the bottle
+of wine that had been opened, worried and sulking, as though it was
+their own fault.
+
+Towards seven o'clock, before daylight, Coupeau at length awoke. When
+he learnt his loss he at first stood still with dry eyes, stuttering
+and vaguely thinking that they were playing him some joke. Then he threw
+himself on the ground and went and knelt beside the corpse. His kissed
+it and wept like a child, with such a copious flow of tears that he
+quite wetted the sheet with wiping his cheeks. Gervaise had recommenced
+sobbing, deeply affected by her husband's grief, and the best of friends
+with him again. Yes, he was better at heart than she thought he was.
+Coupeau's despair mingled with a violent pain in his head. He passed
+his fingers through his hair. His mouth was dry, like on the morrow of
+a booze, and he was still a little drunk in spite of his ten hours of
+sleep. And, clenching his fist, he complained aloud. _Mon Dieu!_ she was
+gone now, his poor mother, whom he loved so much! Ah! what a headache he
+had; it would settle him! It was like a wig of fire! And now they were
+tearing out his heart! No, it was not just of fate thus to set itself
+against one man!
+
+"Come, cheer up, old fellow," said Lantier, raising him from the ground;
+"you must pull yourself together."
+
+He poured him out a glass of wine, but Coupeau refused to drink.
+
+"What's the matter with me? I've got copper in my throat. It's mamma.
+When I saw her I got a taste of copper in my mouth. Mamma! _Mon Dieu!_
+mamma, mamma!"
+
+And he recommenced crying like a child. Then he drank the glass of wine,
+hoping to put out the flame searing his breast. Lantier soon left, using
+the excuse of informing the family and filing the necessary declaration
+at the town hall. Really though, he felt the need of fresh air, and so
+he took his time, smoking cigarettes and enjoying the morning air.
+When he left Madame Lerat's house, he went into a dairy place on Les
+Batignolles for a cup of hot coffee and remained there an hour, thinking
+things over.
+
+Towards nine o'clock the family were all united in the shop, the
+shutters of which were kept up. Lorilleux did not cry. Moreover he had
+some pressing work to attend to, and he returned almost directly to his
+room, after having stalked about with a face put on for the occasion.
+Madame Lorilleux and Madame Lerat embraced the Coupeaus and wiped their
+eyes, from which a few tears were falling. But Madame Lorilleux, after
+giving a hasty glance round the death chamber, suddenly raised her voice
+to say that it was unheard of, that one never left a lighted lamp beside
+a corpse; there should be a candle, and Nana was sent to purchase a
+packet of tall ones. Ah, well! It made one long to die at Clump-clump's,
+she laid one out in such a fine fashion! What a fool, not even to know
+what to do with a corpse! Had she then never buried anyone in her life?
+Madame Lerat had to go to the neighbors and borrow a crucifix; she
+brought one back which was too big, a cross of black wood with a Christ
+in painted cardboard fastened to it, which covered the whole of mother
+Coupeau's chest, and seemed to crush her under its weight. Then they
+tried to obtain some holy water, but no one had any, and it was again
+Nana who was sent to the church to bring some back in a bottle. In
+practically no time the tiny room presented quite another appearance;
+on a little table a candle was burning beside a glass full of holy water
+into which a sprig of boxwood was dipped. Now, if anyone came, it would
+at least look decent. And they arranged the chairs in a circle in the
+shop for receiving people.
+
+Lantier only returned at eleven o'clock. He had been to the undertaker's
+for information.
+
+"The coffin is twelve francs," said he. "If you desire a mass, it
+will be ten francs more. Then there's the hearse, which is charged for
+according to the ornaments."
+
+"Oh! it's quite unnecessary to be fancy," murmured Madame Lorilleux,
+raising her head in a surprised and anxious manner. "We can't bring
+mamma to life again, can we? One must do according to one's means."
+
+"Of course, that's just what I think," resumed the hatter. "I merely
+asked the prices to guide you. Tell me what you desire; and after lunch
+I will give the orders."
+
+They were talking in lowered voices. Only a dim light came into the room
+through the cracks in the shutters. The door to the little room stood
+half open, and from it came the deep silence of death. Children's
+laughter echoed in the courtyard. Suddenly they heard the voice of
+Nana, who had escaped from the Boches to whom she had been sent. She was
+giving commands in her shrill voice and the children were singing a song
+about a donkey.
+
+Gervaise waited until it was quiet to say:
+
+"We're not rich certainly; but all the same we wish to act decently. If
+mother Coupeau has left us nothing, it's no reason for pitching her into
+the ground like a dog. No; we must have a mass, and a hearse with a few
+ornaments."
+
+"And who will pay for them?" violently inquired Madame Lorilleux. "Not
+we, who lost some money last week; and you either, as you're stumped.
+Ah! you ought, however, to see where it has led you, this trying to
+impress people!"
+
+Coupeau, when consulted, mumbled something with a gesture of profound
+indifference, and then fell asleep again on his chair. Madame Lerat said
+that she would pay her share. She was of Gervaise's opinion, they should
+do things decently. Then the two of them fell to making calculations
+on a piece of paper: in all, it would amount to about ninety francs,
+because they decided, after a long discussion, to have a hearse
+ornamented with a narrow scallop.
+
+"We're three," concluded the laundress. "We'll give thirty francs each.
+It won't ruin us."
+
+But Madame Lorilleux broke out in a fury.
+
+"Well! I refuse, yes, I refuse! It's not for the thirty francs. I'd give
+a hundred thousand, if I had them, and if it would bring mamma to life
+again. Only, I don't like vain people. You've got a shop, you only dream
+of showing off before the neighborhood. We don't fall in with it, we
+don't. We don't try to make ourselves out what we are not. Oh! you can
+manage it to please yourself. Put plumes on the hearse if it amuses
+you."
+
+"No one asks you for anything," Gervaise ended by answering. "Even
+though I should have to sell myself, I'll not have anything to reproach
+myself with. I've fed mother Coupeau without your help, and I can
+certainly bury her without your help also. I already once before gave
+you a bit of my mind; I pick up stray cats, I'm not likely to leave your
+mother in the mire."
+
+Then Madame Lorilleux burst into tears and Lantier had to prevent her
+from leaving. The argument became so noisy that Madame Lerat felt she
+had to go quietly into the little room and glance tearfully at her dead
+mother, as though fearing to find her awake and listening. Just at this
+moment the girls playing in the courtyard, led by Nana, began singing
+again.
+
+"_Mon Dieu!_ how those children grate on one's nerves with their
+singing!" said Gervaise, all upset and on the point of sobbing with
+impatience and sadness. Turning to the hatter, she said:
+
+"Do please make them leave off, and send Nana back to the concierge's
+with a kick."
+
+Madame Lerat and Madame Lorilleux went away to eat lunch, promising
+to return. The Coupeaus sat down to eat a bite without much appetite,
+feeling hesitant about even raising a fork. After lunch Lantier went
+to the undertaker's again with the ninety francs. Thirty had come from
+Madame Lerat and Gervaise had run, with her hair all loose, to borrow
+sixty francs from Goujet.
+
+Several of the neighbors called in the afternoon, mainly out of
+curiosity. They went into the little room to make the sign of the cross
+and sprinkle some holy water with the boxwood sprig. Then they sat in
+the shop and talked endlessly about the departed. Mademoiselle Remanjou
+had noticed that her right eye was still open. Madame Gaudron maintained
+that she had a fine complexion for her age. Madame Fauconnier kept
+repeating that she had seen her having coffee only three days earlier.
+
+Towards evening the Coupeaus were beginning to have had enough of it.
+It was too great an affliction for a family to have to keep a corpse so
+long a time. The government ought to have made a new law on the subject.
+All through another evening, another night, and another morning--no!
+it would never come to an end. When one no longer weeps, grief turns to
+irritation; is it not so? One would end by misbehaving oneself. Mother
+Coupeau, dumb and stiff in the depths of the narrow chamber, was
+spreading more and more over the lodging and becoming heavy enough to
+crush the people in it. And the family, in spite of itself, gradually
+fell into the ordinary mode of life, and lost some portion of its
+respect.
+
+"You must have a mouthful with us," said Gervaise to Madame Lerat and
+Madame Lorilleux, when they returned. "We're too sad; we must keep
+together."
+
+They laid the cloth on the work-table. Each one, on seeing the plates,
+thought of the feastings they had had on it. Lantier had returned.
+Lorilleux came down. A pastry-cook had just brought a meat pie, for the
+laundress was too upset to attend to any cooking. As they were taking
+their seats, Boche came to say that Monsieur Marescot asked to be
+admitted, and the landlord appeared, looking very grave, and wearing
+a broad decoration on his frock-coat. He bowed in silence and went
+straight to the little room, where he knelt down. All the family,
+leaving the table, stood up, greatly impressed. Monsieur Marescot,
+having finished his devotions, passed into the shop and said to the
+Coupeaus:
+
+"I have come for the two quarters' rent that's overdue. Are you prepared
+to pay?"
+
+"No, sir, not quite," stammered Gervaise, greatly put out at hearing
+this mentioned before the Lorilleuxs. "You see, with the misfortune
+which has fallen upon us--"
+
+"No doubt, but everyone has their troubles," resumed the landlord,
+spreading out his immense fingers, which indicated the former workman.
+"I am very sorry, but I cannot wait any longer. If I am not paid by the
+morning after to-morrow, I shall be obliged to have you put out."
+
+Gervaise, struck dumb, imploringly clasped her hands, her eyes full
+of tears. With an energetic shake of his big bony head, he gave her to
+understand that supplications were useless. Besides, the respect due
+to the dead forbade all discussion. He discreetly retired, walking
+backwards.
+
+"A thousand pardons for having disturbed you," murmured he. "The morning
+after to-morrow; do not forget."
+
+And as on withdrawing he again passed before the little room, he saluted
+the corpse a last time through the wide open door by devoutly bending
+his knee.
+
+They began eating and gobbled the food down very quickly, so as not to
+seem to be enjoying it, only slowing down when they reached the dessert.
+Occasionally Gervaise or one of the sisters would get up, still holding
+her napkin, to look into the small room. They made plenty of strong
+coffee to keep them awake through the night. The Poissons arrived about
+eight and were invited for coffee.
+
+Then Lantier, who had been watching Gervaise's face, seemed to seize
+an opportunity that he had been waiting for ever since the morning. In
+speaking of the indecency of landlords who entered houses of mourning to
+demand their money, he said:
+
+"He's a Jesuit, the beast, with his air of officiating at a mass! But in
+your place, I'd just chuck up the shop altogether."
+
+Gervaise, quite worn out and feeling weak and nervous, gave way and
+replied:
+
+"Yes, I shall certainly not wait for the bailiffs. Ah! it's more than I
+can bear--more than I can bear."
+
+The Lorilleuxs, delighted at the idea that Clump-clump would no longer
+have a shop, approved the plan immensely. One could hardly conceive
+the great cost a shop was. If she only earned three francs working for
+others she at least had no expenses; she did not risk losing large sums
+of money. They repeated this argument to Coupeau, urging him on; he
+drank a great deal and remained in a continuous fit of sensibility,
+weeping all day by himself in his plate. As the laundress seemed to be
+allowing herself to be convinced, Lantier looked at the Poissons and
+winked. And tall Virginie intervened, making herself most amiable.
+
+"You know, we might arrange the matter between us. I would relieve you
+of the rest of the lease and settle your matter with the landlord. In
+short, you would not be worried nearly so much."
+
+"No thanks," declared Gervaise, shaking herself as though she felt a
+shudder pass over her. "I'll work; I've got my two arms, thank heaven!
+to help me out of my difficulties."
+
+"We can talk about it some other time," the hatter hastened to put in.
+"It's scarcely the thing to do so this evening. Some other time--in the
+morning for instance."
+
+At this moment, Madame Lerat, who had gone into the little room, uttered
+a faint cry. She had had a fright because she had found the candle burnt
+out. They all busied themselves in lighting another; they shook their
+heads, saying that it was not a good sign when the light went out beside
+a corpse.
+
+The wake commenced. Coupeau had gone to lie down, not to sleep, said he,
+but to think; and five minutes afterwards he was snoring. When they sent
+Nana off to sleep at the Boches' she cried; she had been looking
+forward ever since the morning to being nice and warm in her good friend
+Lantier's big bed. The Poissons stayed till midnight. Some hot wine had
+been made in a salad-bowl because the coffee affected the ladies' nerves
+too much. The conversation became tenderly effusive. Virginie talked of
+the country: she would like to be buried at the corner of a wood with
+wild flowers on her grave. Madame Lerat had already put by in her
+wardrobe the sheet for her shroud, and she kept it perfumed with a bunch
+of lavender; she wished always to have a nice smell under her nose when
+she would be eating the dandelions by the roots. Then, with no sort of
+transition, the policeman related that he had arrested a fine girl that
+morning who had been stealing from a pork-butcher's shop; on undressing
+her at the commissary of police's they had found ten sausages hanging
+round her body. And Madame Lorilleux having remarked, with a look of
+disgust, that she would not eat any of those sausages, the party burst
+into a gentle laugh. The wake became livelier, though not ceasing to
+preserve appearances.
+
+But just as they were finishing the hot wine a peculiar noise, a dull
+trickling sound, issued from the little room. All raised their heads and
+looked at each other.
+
+"It's nothing," said Lantier quietly, lowering his voice. "She's
+emptying."
+
+The explanation caused the others to nod their heads in a reassured way,
+and they replaced their glasses on the table.
+
+When the Poissons left for home, Lantier left also, saying he would
+sleep with a friend and leave his bed for the ladies in case they wanted
+to take turns napping. Lorilleux went upstairs to bed. Gervaise and the
+two sisters arranged themselves by the stove where they huddled together
+close to the warmth, talking quietly. Coupeau was still snoring.
+
+Madame Lorilleux was complaining that she didn't have a black dress and
+asked Gervaise about the black skirt they had given mother Coupeau on
+her saint's day. Gervaise went to look for it. Madame Lorilleux then
+wanted some of the old linen and mentioned the bed, the wardrobe, and
+the two chairs as she looked around for other odds and ends. Madame
+Lerat had to serve as peace maker when a quarrel nearly broke out.
+She pointed out that as the Coupeaus had cared for their mother, they
+deserved to keep the few things she had left. Soon they were all dozing
+around the stove.
+
+The night seemed terribly long to them. Now and again they shook
+themselves, drank some coffee and stretched their necks in the direction
+of the little room, where the candle, which was not to be snuffed, was
+burning with a dull red flame, flickering the more because of the black
+soot on the wick. Towards morning, they shivered, in spite of the great
+heat of the stove. Anguish, and the fatigue of having talked too much
+was stifling them, whilst their mouths were parched, and their eyes
+ached. Madame Lerat threw herself on Lantier's bed, and snored as loud
+as a man; whilst the other two, their heads falling forward, and almost
+touching their knees, slept before the fire. At daybreak, a shudder
+awoke them. Mother Coupeau's candle had again gone out; and as, in the
+obscurity, the dull trickling sound recommenced, Madame Lorilleux gave
+the explanation of it anew in a loud voice, so as to reassure herself:
+
+"She's emptying," repeated she, lighting another candle.
+
+The funeral was to take place at half-past ten. A nice morning to add to
+the night and the day before! Gervaise, though without a sou, said she
+would have given a hundred francs to anybody who would have come and
+taken mother Coupeau away three hours sooner. No, one may love people,
+but they are too great a weight when they are dead; and the more one has
+loved them, the sooner one would like to be rid of their bodies.
+
+The morning of a funeral is, fortunately, full of diversions. One has
+all sorts of preparations to make. To begin with, they lunched. Then it
+happened to be old Bazouge, the undertaker's helper, who lived on the
+sixth floor, who brought the coffin and the sack of bran. He was never
+sober, the worthy fellow. At eight o'clock that day, he was still lively
+from the booze of the day before.
+
+"This is for here, isn't it?" asked he.
+
+And he laid down the coffin, which creaked like a new box. But as he was
+throwing the sack of bran on one side, he stood with a look of amazement
+in his eyes, his mouth opened wide, on beholding Gervaise before him.
+
+"Beg pardon, excuse me. I've made a mistake," stammered he. "I was told
+it was for you."
+
+He had already taken up the sack again, and the laundress was obliged to
+call to him:
+
+"Leave it alone, it's for here."
+
+"Ah! _Mon Dieu!_ Now I understand!" resumed he, slapping his thigh.
+"It's for the old lady."
+
+Gervaise had turned quite pale. Old Bazouge had brought the coffin for
+her. By way of apology, he tried to be gallant, and continued:
+
+"I'm not to blame, am I? It was said yesterday that someone on the
+ground floor had passed away. Then I thought--you know, in our business,
+these things enter by one ear and go out by the other. All the same, my
+compliments to you. As late as possible, eh? That's best, though life
+isn't always amusing; ah! no, by no means."
+
+As Gervaise listened to him, she draw back, afraid he would grab her and
+take her away in the box. She remembered the time before, when he had
+told her he knew of women who would thank him to come and get them.
+Well, she wasn't ready yet. _Mon Dieu!_ The thought sent chills down her
+spine. Her life may have been bitter, but she wasn't ready to give it up
+yet. No, she would starve for years first.
+
+"He's abominably drunk," murmured she, with an air of disgust mingled
+with dread. "They at least oughtn't to send us tipplers. We pay dear
+enough."
+
+Then he became insolent, and jeered:
+
+"See here, little woman, it's only put off until another time. I'm
+entirely at your service, remember! You've only to make me a sign. I'm
+the ladies' consoler. And don't spit on old Bazouge, because he's held
+in his arms finer ones than you, who let themselves be tucked in without
+a murmur, very pleased to continue their by-by in the dark."
+
+"Hold your tongue, old Bazouge!" said Lorilleux severely, having
+hastened to the spot on hearing the noise, "such jokes are highly
+improper. If we complained about you, you would get the sack. Come, be
+off, as you've no respect for principles."
+
+Bazouge moved away, but one could hear him stuttering as he dragged
+along the pavement:
+
+"Well! What? Principles! There's no such thing as principles, there's no
+such thing as principles--there's only common decency!"
+
+At length ten o'clock struck. The hearse was late. There were already
+several people in the shop, friends and neighbors--Monsieur Madinier,
+My-Boots, Madame Gaudron, Mademoiselle Remanjou; and every minute, a
+man's or a woman's head was thrust out of the gaping opening of the
+door between the closed shutters, to see if that creeping hearse was
+in sight. The family, all together in the back room, was shaking hands.
+Short pauses occurred interrupted by rapid whisperings, a tiresome and
+feverish waiting with sudden rushes of skirts--Madame Lorilleux who
+had forgotten her handkerchief, or else Madame Lerat who was trying to
+borrow a prayer-book. Everyone, on arriving, beheld the open coffin in
+the centre of the little room before the bed; and in spite of oneself,
+each stood covertly studying it, calculating that plump mother Coupeau
+would never fit into it. They all looked at each other with this thought
+in their eyes, though without communicating it. But there was a slight
+pushing at the front door. Monsieur Madinier, extending his arms, came
+and said in a low grave voice:
+
+"Here they are!"
+
+It was not the hearse though. Four helpers entered hastily in single
+file, with their red faces, their hands all lumpy like persons in the
+habit of moving heavy things, and their rusty black clothes worn and
+frayed from constant rubbing against coffins. Old Bazouge walked first,
+very drunk and very proper. As soon as he was at work he found his
+equilibrium. They did not utter a word, but slightly bowed their heads,
+already weighing mother Coupeau with a glance. And they did not dawdle;
+the poor old woman was packed in, in the time one takes to sneeze. A
+young fellow with a squint, the smallest of the men, poured the bran
+into the coffin and spread it out. The tall and thin one spread the
+winding sheet over the bran. Then, two at the feet and two at the head,
+all four took hold of the body and lifted it. Mother Coupeau was in the
+box, but it was a tight fit. She touched on every side.
+
+The undertaker's helpers were now standing up and waiting; the little
+one with the squint took the coffin lid, by way of inviting the family
+to bid their last farewell, whilst Bazouge had filled his mouth with
+nails and was holding the hammer in readiness. Then Coupeau, his two
+sisters and Gervaise threw themselves on their knees and kissed the
+mamma who was going away, weeping bitterly, the hot tears falling on
+and streaming down the stiff face now cold as ice. There was a prolonged
+sound of sobbing. The lid was placed on, and old Bazouge knocked the
+nails in with the style of a packer, two blows for each; and they none
+of them could hear any longer their own weeping in that din, which
+resembled the noise of furniture being repaired. It was over. The time
+for starting had arrived.
+
+"What a fuss to make at such a time!" said Madame Lorilleux to her
+husband as she caught sight of the hearse before the door.
+
+The hearse was creating quite a revolution in the neighborhood. The
+tripe-seller called to the grocer's men, the little clockmaker came out
+on to the pavement, the neighbors leant out of their windows; and all
+these people talked about the scallop with its white cotton fringe. Ah!
+the Coupeaus would have done better to have paid their debts. But as
+the Lorilleuxs said, when one is proud it shows itself everywhere and in
+spite of everything.
+
+"It's shameful!" Gervaise was saying at the same moment, speaking of the
+chainmaker and his wife. "To think that those skinflints have not even
+brought a bunch of violets for their mother!"
+
+The Lorilleuxs, true enough, had come empty-handed. Madame Lerat had
+given a wreath of artificial flowers. And a wreath of immortelles and
+a bouquet bought by the Coupeaus were also placed on the coffin. The
+undertaker's helpers had to give a mighty heave to lift the coffin
+and carry it to the hearse. It was some time before the procession was
+formed. Coupeau and Lorilleux, in frock coats and with their hats in
+their hands, were chief mourners. The first, in his emotion which two
+glasses of white wine early in the morning had helped to sustain, clung
+to his brother-in-law's arm, with no strength in his legs, and a violent
+headache. Then followed the other men--Monsieur Madinier, very grave
+and all in black; My-Boots, wearing a great-coat over his blouse; Boche,
+whose yellow trousers produced the effect of a petard; Lantier, Gaudron,
+Bibi-the-Smoker, Poisson and others. The ladies came next--in the first
+row Madame Lorilleux, dragging the deceased's skirt, which she had
+altered; Madame Lerat, hiding under a shawl her hastily got-up mourning,
+a gown with lilac trimmings; and following them, Virginie, Madame
+Gaudron, Madame Fauconnier, Mademoiselle Remanjou and the rest. When the
+hearse started and slowly descended the Rue de la Goutte-d'Or, amidst
+signs of the cross and heads bared, the four helpers took the lead, two
+in front, the two others on the right and left. Gervaise had remained
+behind to close the shop. She left Nana with Madame Boche and ran to
+rejoin the procession, whilst the child, firmly held by the concierge
+under the porch, watched with a deeply interested gaze her grandmother
+disappear at the end of the street in that beautiful carriage.
+
+At the moment when Gervaise caught up with the procession, Goujet
+arrived from another direction. He nodded to her so sympathetically
+that she was reminded of how unhappy she was, and began to cry again as
+Goujet took his place with the men.
+
+The ceremony at the church was soon got through. The mass dragged
+a little, though, because the priest was very old. My-Boots and
+Bibi-the-Smoker preferred to remain outside on account of the
+collection. Monsieur Madinier studied the priests all the while, and
+communicated his observations to Lantier. Those jokers, though so glib
+with their Latin, did not even know a word of what they were saying.
+They buried a person just in the same way that they would have baptized
+or married him, without the least feeling in their heart.
+
+Happily, the cemetery was not far off, the little cemetery of La
+Chapelle, a bit of a garden which opened on to the Rue Marcadet. The
+procession arrived disbanded, with stampings of feet and everybody
+talking of his own affairs. The hard earth resounded, and many would
+have liked to have moved about to keep themselves warm. The gaping hole
+beside which the coffin was laid was already frozen over, and looked
+white and stony, like a plaster quarry; and the followers, grouped
+round little heaps of gravel, did not find it pleasant standing in such
+piercing cold, whilst looking at the hole likewise bored them. At length
+a priest in a surplice came out of a little cottage. He shivered,
+and one could see his steaming breath at each _de profundis_ that he
+uttered. At the final sign of the cross he bolted off, without the least
+desire to go through the service again. The sexton took his shovel,
+but on account of the frost, he was only able to detach large lumps of
+earth, which beat a fine tune down below, a regular bombardment of the
+coffin, an enfilade of artillery sufficient to make one think the wood
+was splitting. One may be a cynic; nevertheless that sort of music soon
+upsets one's stomach. The weeping recommenced. They moved off, they even
+got outside, but they still heard the detonations. My-Boots, blowing on
+his fingers, uttered an observation aloud.
+
+"_Tonnerre de Dieu!_ poor mother Coupeau won't feel very warm!"
+
+"Ladies and gentlemen," said the zinc-worker to the few friends who
+remained in the street with the family, "will you permit us to offer you
+some refreshments?"
+
+He led the way to a wine shop in the Rue Marcadet, the "Arrival at the
+Cemetery." Gervaise, remaining outside, called Goujet, who was moving
+off, after again nodding to her. Why didn't he accept a glass of wine?
+He was in a hurry; he was going back to the workshop. Then they looked
+at each other a moment without speaking.
+
+"I must ask your pardon for troubling you about the sixty francs," at
+length murmured the laundress. "I was half crazy, I thought of you--"
+
+"Oh! don't mention it; you're fully forgiven," interrupted the
+blacksmith. "And you know, I am quite at your service if any misfortune
+should overtake you. But don't say anything to mamma, because she has
+her ideas, and I don't wish to cause her annoyance."
+
+She gazed at him. He seemed to her such a good man, and sad-looking, and
+so handsome. She was on the verge of accepting his former proposal, to
+go away with him and find happiness together somewhere else. Then an
+evil thought came to her. It was the idea of borrowing the six months'
+back rent from him.
+
+She trembled and resumed in a caressing tone of voice:
+
+"We're still friends, aren't we?"
+
+He shook his head as he answered:
+
+"Yes, we'll always be friends. It's just that, you know, all is over
+between us."
+
+And he went off with long strides, leaving Gervaise bewildered,
+listening to his last words which rang in her ears with the clang of a
+big bell. On entering the wine shop, she seemed to hear a hollow voice
+within her which said, "All is over, well! All is over; there is
+nothing more for me to do if all is over!" Sitting down, she swallowed a
+mouthful of bread and cheese, and emptied a glass full of wine which she
+found before her.
+
+The wine shop was a single, long room with a low ceiling occupied by two
+large tables on which loaves of bread, large chunks of Brie cheese and
+bottles of wine were set out. They ate informally, without a tablecloth.
+Near the stove at the back the undertaker's helpers were finishing their
+lunch.
+
+"_Mon Dieu!_" exclaimed Monsieur Madinier, "we each have our time. The
+old folks make room for the young ones. Your lodging will seem very
+empty to you now when you go home."
+
+"Oh! my brother is going to give notice," said Madame Lorilleux quickly.
+"That shop's ruined."
+
+They had been working upon Coupeau. Everyone was urging him to give up
+the lease. Madame Lerat herself, who had been on very good terms with
+Lantier and Virginie for some time past, and who was tickled with
+the idea that they were a trifle smitten with each other, talked of
+bankruptcy and prison, putting on the most terrified airs. And suddenly,
+the zinc-worker, already overdosed with liquor, flew into a passion, his
+emotion turned to fury.
+
+"Listen," cried he, poking his nose in his wife's face; "I intend that
+you shall listen to me! Your confounded head will always have its own
+way. But, this time, I intend to have mine, I warn you!"
+
+"Ah! well," said Lantier, "one never yet brought her to reason by fair
+words; it wants a mallet to drive it into her head."
+
+For a time they both went on at her. Meanwhile, the Brie was quickly
+disappearing and the wine bottles were pouring like fountains. Gervaise
+began to weaken under this persistent pounding. She answered nothing,
+but hurried herself, her mouth ever full, as though she had been very
+hungry. When they got tired, she gently raised her head and said:
+
+"That's enough, isn't it? I don't care a straw for the shop! I want no
+more of it. Do you understand? It can go to the deuce! All is over!"
+
+Then they ordered some more bread and cheese and talked business. The
+Poissons took the rest of the lease and agreed to be answerable for the
+two quarters' rent overdue. Boche, moreover, pompously agreed to the
+arrangement in the landlord's name. He even then and there let a lodging
+to the Coupeaus--the vacant one on the sixth floor, in the same passage
+as the Lorilleuxs' apartment. As for Lantier, well! He would like to
+keep his room, if it did not inconvenience the Poissons. The policeman
+bowed; it did not inconvenience him at all; friends always get on
+together, in spite of any difference in their political ideas. And
+Lantier, without mixing himself up any more in the matter, like a man
+who has at length settled his little business, helped himself to an
+enormous slice of bread and cheese; he leant back in his chair and ate
+devoutly, his blood tingling beneath his skin, his whole body burning
+with a sly joy, and he blinked his eyes to peep first at Gervaise, and
+then at Virginie.
+
+"Hi! Old Bazouge!" called Coupeau, "come and have a drink. We're not
+proud; we're all workers."
+
+The four undertaker's helpers, who had started to leave, came back to
+raise glasses with the group. They thought that the lady had weighed
+quite a bit and they had certainly earned a glass of wine. Old Bazouge
+gazed steadily at Gervaise without saying a word. It made her feel
+uneasy though and she got up and left the men who were beginning to show
+signs of being drunk. Coupeau began to sob again, saying he was feeling
+very sad.
+
+That evening when Gervaise found herself at home again, she remained
+in a stupefied state on a chair. It seemed to her that the rooms were
+immense and deserted. Really, it would be a good riddance. But it was
+certainly not only mother Coupeau that she had left at the bottom of
+the hole in the little garden of the Rue Marcadet. She missed too many
+things, most likely a part of her life, and her shop, and her pride of
+being an employer, and other feelings besides, which she had buried
+on that day. Yes, the walls were bare, and her heart also; it was a
+complete clear out, a tumble into the pit. And she felt too tired; she
+would pick herself up again later on if she could.
+
+At ten o'clock, when undressing, Nana cried and stamped. She wanted to
+sleep in mother Coupeau's bed. Her mother tried to frighten her; but
+the child was too precocious. Corpses only filled her with a great
+curiosity; so that, for the sake of peace, she was allowed to lie down
+in mother Coupeau's place. She liked big beds, the chit; she spread
+herself out and rolled about. She slept uncommonly well that night in
+the warm and pleasant feather bed.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER X
+
+The Coupeaus' new lodging was on the sixth floor, staircase B. After
+passing Mademoiselle Remanjou's door, you took the corridor to the
+left, and then turned again further along. The first door was for the
+apartment of the Bijards. Almost opposite, in an airless corner under a
+small staircase leading to the roof, was where Pere Bru slept. Two
+doors further was Bazouge's room and the Coupeaus were opposite him,
+overlooking the court, with one room and a closet. There were only two
+more doors along the corridor before reaching that of the Lorilleuxs at
+the far end.
+
+A room and a closet, no more. The Coupeaus perched there now. And the
+room was scarcely larger than one's hand. And they had to do everything
+in there--eat, sleep, and all the rest. Nana's bed just squeezed into
+the closet; she had to dress in her father and mother's room, and her
+door was kept open at night-time so that she should not be suffocated.
+There was so little space that Gervaise had left many things in the
+shop for the Poissons. A bed, a table, and four chairs completely filled
+their new apartment but she didn't have the courage to part with her old
+bureau and so it blocked off half the window. This made the room dark
+and gloomy, especially since one shutter was stuck shut. Gervaise was
+now so fat that there wasn't room for her in the limited window space
+and she had to lean sideways and crane her neck if she wanted to see the
+courtyard.
+
+During the first few days, the laundress would continually sit down
+and cry. It seemed to her too hard, not being able to move about in
+her home, after having been used to so much room. She felt stifled;
+she remained at the window for hours, squeezed between the wall and
+the drawers and getting a stiff neck. It was only there that she could
+breathe freely. However, the courtyard inspired rather melancholy
+thoughts. Opposite her, on the sunny side, she would see that same
+window she had dreamed about long ago where the spring brought scarlet
+vines. Her own room was on the shady side where pots of mignonette died
+within a week. Oh, this wasn't at all the sort of life she had dreamed
+of. She had to wallow in filth instead of having flowers all about her.
+
+On leaning out one day, Gervaise experienced a peculiar sensation: she
+fancied she beheld herself down below, near the concierge's room under
+the porch, her nose in the air, and examining the house for the first
+time; and this leap thirteen years backwards caused her heart to throb.
+The courtyard was a little dingier and the walls more stained, otherwise
+it hadn't changed much. But she herself felt terribly changed and worn.
+To begin with, she was no longer below, her face raised to heaven,
+feeling content and courageous and aspiring to a handsome lodging. She
+was right up under the roof, among the most wretched, in the dirtiest
+hole, the part that never received a ray of sunshine. And that explained
+her tears; she could scarcely feel enchanted with her fate.
+
+However, when Gervaise had grown somewhat used to it, the early days
+of the little family in their new home did not pass off so badly.
+The winter was almost over, and the trifle of money received for the
+furniture sold to Virginie helped to make things comfortable. Then with
+the fine weather came a piece of luck, Coupeau was engaged to work in
+the country at Etampes; and he was there for nearly three months without
+once getting drunk, cured for a time by the fresh air. One has no idea
+what a quench it is to the tippler's thirst to leave Paris where the
+very streets are full of the fumes of wine and brandy. On his return he
+was as fresh as a rose, and he brought back in his pocket four hundred
+francs with which they paid the two overdue quarters' rent at the shop
+that the Poissons had become answerable for, and also the most pressing
+of their little debts in the neighborhood. Gervaise thus opened two or
+three streets through which she had not passed for a long time.
+
+She had naturally become an ironer again. Madame Fauconnier was quite
+good-hearted if you flattered her a bit, and she was happy to take
+Gervaise back, even paying her the same three francs a day as her best
+worker. This was out of respect for her former status as an employer.
+The household seemed to be getting on well and Gervaise looked forward
+to the day when all the debts would be paid. Hard work and economy would
+solve all their money troubles. Unfortunately, she dreamed of this in
+the warm satisfaction of the large sum earned by her husband. Soon, she
+said that the good things never lasted and took things as they came.
+
+What the Coupeaus most suffered from at that time was seeing the
+Poissons installing themselves at their former shop. They were not
+naturally of a particularly jealous disposition, but people aggravated
+them by purposely expressing amazement in their presence at the
+embellishments of their successors. The Boches and the Lorilleuxs
+especially, never tired. According to them, no one had ever seen so
+beautiful a shop. They were also continually mentioning the filthy state
+in which the Poissons had found the premises, saying that it had cost
+thirty francs for the cleaning alone.
+
+After much deliberation, Virginie had decided to open a shop
+specializing in candies, chocolate, coffee and tea. Lantier had advised
+this, saying there was much money to be made from such delicacies. The
+shop was stylishly painted black with yellow stripes. Three carpenters
+worked for eight days on the interior, putting up shelves, display
+cases and counters. Poisson's small inheritance must have been almost
+completely used, but Virginie was ecstatic. The Lorilleuxs and the
+Boches made sure that Gervaise did not miss a single improvement and
+chuckled to themselves while watching her expression.
+
+There was also a question of a man beneath all this. It was reported
+that Lantier had broken off with Gervaise. The neighborhood declared
+that it was quite right. In short, it gave a moral tone to the street.
+And all the honor of the separation was accorded to the crafty hatter
+on whom all the ladies continued to dote. Some said that she was still
+crazy about him and he had to slap her to make her leave him alone.
+Of course, no one told the actual truth. It was too simple and not
+interesting enough.
+
+Actually Lantier climbed to the sixth floor to see her whenever he felt
+the impulse. Mademoiselle Remanjou had often seen him coming out of the
+Coupeaus' at odd hours.
+
+The situation was even more complicated by neighborhood gossip linking
+Lantier and Virginie. The neighbors were a bit too hasty in this also;
+he had not even reached the stage of buttock-pinching with her. Still,
+the Lorilleuxs delighted in talking sympathetically to Gervaise about
+the affair between Lantier and Virginie. The Boches maintained they had
+never seen a more handsome couple. The odd thing in all this was that
+the Rue de la Goutte-d'Or seemed to have no objection to this new
+arrangement which everyone thought was progressing nicely. Those who had
+been so harsh to Gervaise were now quite lenient toward Virginie.
+
+Gervaise had previously heard numerous reports about Lantier's affairs
+with all sorts of girls on the street and they had bothered her so
+little that she hadn't even felt enough resentment to break off the
+affair. However, this new intrigue with Virginie wasn't quite so easy to
+accept because she was sure that the two of them were just out to spite
+her. She hid her resentment though to avoid giving any satisfaction to
+her enemies. Mademoiselle Remanjou thought that Gervaise had words with
+Lantier over this because one afternoon she heard the sound of a slap.
+There was certainly a quarrel because Lantier stopped speaking to
+Gervaise for a couple of weeks, but then he was the first one to make up
+and things seemed to go along the same as before.
+
+Coupeau found all this most amusing. The complacent husband who had been
+blind to his own situation laughed heartily at Poisson's predicament.
+Then Coupeau even teased Gervaise. Her lovers always dropped her.
+First the blacksmith and now the hatmaker. The trouble was that she got
+involved with undependable trades. She should take up with a mason, a
+good solid man. He said such things as if he were joking, but they upset
+Gervaise because his small grey eyes seemed to be boring right into her.
+
+On evenings when Coupeau became bored being alone with his wife up in
+their tiny hole under the roof, he would go down for Lantier and invite
+him up. He thought their dump was too dreary without Lantier's company
+so he patched things up between Gervaise and Lantier whenever they had a
+falling out.
+
+In the midst of all this Lantier put on the most consequential airs.
+He showed himself both paternal and dignified. On three successive
+occasions he had prevented a quarrel between the Coupeaus and the
+Poissons. The good understanding between the two families formed a part
+of his contentment. Thanks to the tender though firm glances with
+which he watched over Gervaise and Virginie, they always pretended to
+entertain a great friendship for each other. He reigned over both blonde
+and brunette with the tranquillity of a pasha, and fattened on his
+cunning. The rogue was still digesting the Coupeaus when he already
+began to devour the Poissons. Oh, it did not inconvenience him much! As
+soon as one shop was swallowed, he started on a second. It was only men
+of his sort who ever have any luck.
+
+It was in June of that year that Nana was confirmed. She was then nearly
+thirteen years old, as tall as an asparagus shoot run to seed, and had
+a bold, impudent air about her. The year before she had been sent away
+from the catechism class on account of her bad behavior; and the priest
+had only allowed her to join it this time through fear of losing her
+altogether, and of casting one more heathen onto the street. Nana
+danced for joy as she thought of the white dress. The Lorilleuxs, being
+godfather and godmother, had promised to provide it, and took care to
+let everyone in the house know of their present. Madame Lerat was
+to give the veil and the cap, Virginie the purse, and Lantier the
+prayer-book; so that the Coupeaus looked forward to the ceremony without
+any great anxiety. Even the Poissons, wishing to give a house-warming,
+chose this occasion, no doubt on the hatter's advice. They invited
+the Coupeaus and the Boches, whose little girl was also going to be
+confirmed. They provided a leg of mutton and trimmings for the evening
+in question.
+
+It so happened that on the evening before, Coupeau returned home in a
+most abominable condition, just as Nana was lost in admiration before
+the presents spread out on the top of the chest of drawers. The Paris
+atmosphere was getting the better of him again; and he fell foul of his
+wife and child with drunken arguments and disgusting language which no
+one should have uttered at such a time. Nana herself was beginning
+to get hold of some very bad expressions in the midst of the filthy
+conversations she was continually hearing. On the days when there was a
+row, she would often call her mother an old camel and a cow.
+
+"Where's my food?" yelled the zinc-worker. "I want my soup, you couple
+of jades! There's females for you, always thinking of finery! I'll sit
+on the gee-gaws, you know, if I don't get my soup!"
+
+"He's unbearable when he's drunk," murmured Gervaise, out of patience;
+and turning towards him, she exclaimed:
+
+"It's warming up, don't bother us."
+
+Nana was being modest, because she thought it nice on such a day. She
+continued to look at the presents on the chest of drawers, affectedly
+lowering her eyelids and pretending not to understand her father's
+naughty words. But the zinc-worker was an awful plague on the nights
+when he had had too much. Poking his face right against her neck, he
+said:
+
+"I'll give you white dresses! So the finery tickles your fancy. They
+excite your imagination. Just you cut away from there, you ugly little
+brat! Move your hands about, bundle them all into a drawer!"
+
+Nana, with bowed head, did not answer a word. She had taken up the
+little tulle cap and was asking her mother how much it cost. And as
+Coupeau thrust out his hand to seize hold of the cap, it was Gervaise
+who pushed him aside exclaiming:
+
+"Do leave the child alone! She's very good, she's doing no harm."
+
+Then the zinc-worker let out in real earnest.
+
+"Ah! the viragos! The mother and daughter, they make the pair. It's a
+nice thing to go to church just to leer at the men. Dare to say it isn't
+true, little slattern! I'll dress you in a sack, just to disgust you,
+you and your priests. I don't want you to be taught anything worse than
+you know already. _Mon Dieu!_ Just listen to me, both of you!"
+
+At this Nana turned round in a fury, whilst Gervaise had to spread out
+her arms to protect the things which Coupeau talked of tearing. The
+child looked her father straight in the face; then, forgetting the
+modest bearing inculcated by her confessor, she said, clinching her
+teeth: "Pig!"
+
+As soon as the zinc-worker had had his soup he went off to sleep. On
+the morrow he awoke in a very good humor. He still felt a little of the
+booze of the day before but only just sufficient to make him amiable.
+He assisted at the dressing of the child, deeply affected by the white
+dress and finding that a mere nothing gave the little vermin quite the
+look of a young lady.
+
+The two families started off together for the church. Nana and Pauline
+walked first, their prayer-books in their hands and holding down their
+veils on account of the wind; they did not speak but were bursting
+with delight at seeing people come to their shop-doors, and they smiled
+primly and devoutly every time they heard anyone say as they passed that
+they looked very nice. Madame Boche and Madame Lorilleux lagged behind,
+because they were interchanging their ideas about Clump-clump, a
+gobble-all, whose daughter would never have been confirmed if the
+relations had not found everything for her; yes, everything, even a new
+chemise, out of respect for the holy altar. Madame Lorilleux was rather
+concerned about the dress, calling Nana a dirty thing every time the
+child got dust on her skirt by brushing against the store fronts.
+
+At church Coupeau wept all the time. It was stupid but he could not help
+it. It affected him to see the priest holding out his arms and all
+the little girls, looking like angels, pass before him, clasping
+their hands; and the music of the organ stirred up his stomach and the
+pleasant smell of the incense forced him to sniff, the same as though
+someone had thrust a bouquet of flowers into his face. In short he saw
+everything cerulean, his heart was touched. Anyway, other sensitive
+souls around him were wetting their handkerchiefs. This was a beautiful
+day, the most beautiful of his life. After leaving the church, Coupeau
+went for a drink with Lorilleux, who had remained dry-eyed.
+
+That evening the Poissons' house-warming was very lively. Friendship
+reigned without a hitch from one end of the feast to the other. When bad
+times arrive one thus comes in for some pleasant evenings, hours during
+which sworn enemies love each other. Lantier, with Gervaise on his left
+and Virginie on his right, was most amiable to both of them,
+lavishing little tender caresses like a cock who desires peace in his
+poultry-yard. But the queens of the feast were the two little ones, Nana
+and Pauline, who had been allowed to keep on their things; they sat bolt
+upright through fear of spilling anything on their white dresses and at
+every mouthful they were told to hold up their chins so as to swallow
+cleanly. Nana, greatly bored by all this fuss, ended by slobbering her
+wine over the body of her dress, so it was taken off and the stains were
+at once washed out in a glass of water.
+
+Then at dessert the children's future careers were gravely discussed.
+
+Madame Boche had decided that Pauline would enter a shop to learn how
+to punch designs on gold and silver. That paid five or six francs a
+day. Gervaise didn't know yet because Nana had never indicated any
+preference.
+
+"In your place," said Madame Lerat, "I would bring Nana up as an
+artificial flower-maker. It is a pleasant and clean employment."
+
+"Flower-makers?" muttered Lorilleux. "Every one of them might as well
+walk the streets."
+
+"Well, what about me?" objected Madame Lerat, pursing her lips. "You're
+certainly not very polite. I assure you that I don't lie down for anyone
+who whistles."
+
+Then all the rest joined together in hushing her. "Madame Lerat! Oh,
+Madame Lerat!" By side glances they reminded her of the two girls, fresh
+from communion, who were burying their noses in their glasses to keep
+from laughing out loud. The men had been very careful, for propriety's
+sake, to use only suitable language, but Madame Lerat refused to follow
+their example. She flattered herself on her command of language, as she
+had often been complimented on the way she could say anything before
+children, without any offence to decency.
+
+"Just you listen, there are some very fine women among the
+flower-makers!" she insisted. "They're just like other women and they
+show good taste when they choose to commit a sin."
+
+"_Mon Dieu!_" interrupted Gervaise, "I've no dislike for artificial
+flower-making. Only it must please Nana, that's all I care about; one
+should never thwart children on the question of a vocation. Come Nana,
+don't be stupid; tell me now, would you like to make flowers?"
+
+The child was leaning over her plate gathering up the cake crumbs with
+her wet finger, which she afterwards sucked. She did not hurry herself.
+She grinned in her vicious way.
+
+"Why yes, mamma, I should like to," she ended by declaring.
+
+Then the matter was at once settled. Coupeau was quite willing that
+Madame Lerat should take the child with her on the morrow to the place
+where she worked in the Rue du Caire. And they all talked very gravely
+of the duties of life. Boche said that Nana and Pauline were women now
+that they had partaken of communion. Poisson added that for the future
+they ought to know how to cook, mend socks and look after a house.
+Something was even said of their marrying, and of the children they
+would some day have. The youngsters listened, laughing to themselves,
+elated by the thought of being women. What pleased them the most was
+when Lantier teased them, asking if they didn't already have little
+husbands. Nana eventually admitted that she cared a great deal for
+Victor Fauconnier, son of her mother's employer.
+
+"Ah well," said Madame Lorilleux to the Boches, as they were all
+leaving, "she's our goddaughter, but as they're going to put her into
+artificial flower-making, we don't wish to have anything more to do with
+her. Just one more for the boulevards. She'll be leading them a merry
+chase before six months are over."
+
+On going up to bed, the Coupeaus agreed that everything had passed off
+well and that the Poissons were not at all bad people. Gervaise even
+considered the shop was nicely got up. She was surprised to discover
+that it hadn't pained her at all to spend an evening there. While Nana
+was getting ready for bed she contemplated her white dress and asked her
+mother if the young lady on the third floor had had one like it when she
+was married last month.
+
+This was their last happy day. Two years passed by, during which they
+sank deeper and deeper. The winters were especially hard for them. If
+they had bread to eat during the fine weather, the rain and cold came
+accompanied by famine, by drubbings before the empty cupboard, and by
+dinner-hours with nothing to eat in the little Siberia of their larder.
+Villainous December brought numbing freezing spells and the black misery
+of cold and dampness.
+
+The first winter they occasionally had a fire, choosing to keep warm
+rather than to eat. But the second winter, the stove stood mute with
+its rust, adding a chill to the room, standing there like a cast-iron
+gravestone. And what took the life out of their limbs, what above all
+utterly crushed them was the rent. Oh! the January quarter, when there
+was not a radish in the house and old Boche came up with the bill! It
+was like a bitter storm, a regular tempest from the north. Monsieur
+Marescot then arrived the following Saturday, wrapped up in a good warm
+overcoat, his big hands hidden in woolen gloves; and he was for ever
+talking of turning them out, whilst the snow continued to fall outside,
+as though it were preparing a bed for them on the pavement with white
+sheets. To have paid the quarter's rent they would have sold their very
+flesh. It was the rent which emptied the larder and the stove.
+
+No doubt the Coupeaus had only themselves to blame. Life may be a
+hard fight, but one always pulls through when one is orderly and
+economical--witness the Lorilleuxs, who paid their rent to the day, the
+money folded up in bits of dirty paper. But they, it is true, led a life
+of starved spiders, which would disgust one with hard work. Nana as yet
+earned nothing at flower-making; she even cost a good deal for her keep.
+At Madame Fauconnier's Gervaise was beginning to be looked down upon.
+She was no longer so expert. She bungled her work to such an extent that
+the mistress had reduced her wages to two francs a day, the price paid
+to the clumsiest bungler. But she was still proud, reminding everyone of
+her former status as boss of her own shop. When Madame Fauconnier hired
+Madame Putois, Gervaise was so annoyed at having to work beside her
+former employee that she stayed away for two weeks.
+
+As for Coupeau, he did perhaps work, but in that case he certainly made
+a present of his labor to the Government, for since the time he returned
+from Etampes Gervaise had never seen the color of his money. She no
+longer looked in his hands when he came home on paydays. He
+arrived swinging his arms, his pockets empty, and often without his
+handkerchief; well, yes, he had lost his rag, or else some rascally
+comrade had sneaked it. At first he always fibbed; there was a donation
+to charity, or some money slipped through the hole in his pocket, or he
+paid off some imaginary debts. Later, he didn't even bother to make up
+anything. He had nothing left because it had all gone into his stomach.
+
+Madame Boche suggested to Gervaise that she go to wait for him at the
+shop exit. This rarely worked though, because Coupeau's comrades would
+warn him and the money would disappear into his shoe or someone else's
+pocket.
+
+Yes, it was their own fault if every season found them lower and lower.
+But that's the sort of thing one never tells oneself, especially when
+one is down in the mire. They accused their bad luck; they pretended
+that fate was against them. Their home had become a regular shambles
+where they wrangled the whole day long. However, they had not yet come
+to blows, with the exception of a few impulsive smacks, which somehow
+flew about at the height of their quarrels. The saddest part of the
+business was that they had opened the cage of affection; all their
+better feelings had taken flight, like so many canaries. The genial
+warmth of father, mother and child, when united together and wrapped up
+in each other, deserted them, and left them shivering, each in his or
+her own corner. All three--Coupeau, Gervaise and Nana--were always in
+the most abominable tempers, biting each other's noses off for nothing
+at all, their eyes full of hatred; and it seemed as though something
+had broken the mainspring of the family, the mechanism which, with happy
+people, causes hearts to beat in unison. Ah! it was certain Gervaise was
+no longer moved as she used to be when she saw Coupeau at the edge of a
+roof forty or fifty feet above the pavement. She would not have pushed
+him off herself, but if he had fallen accidentally, in truth it would
+have freed the earth of one who was of but little account. The days when
+they were more especially at enmity she would ask him why he didn't come
+back on a stretcher. She was awaiting it. It would be her good luck they
+were bringing back to her. What use was he--that drunkard? To make her
+weep, to devour all she possessed, to drive her to sin. Well! Men so
+useless as he should be thrown as quickly as possible into the hole and
+the polka of deliverance be danced over them. And when the mother said
+"Kill him!" the daughter responded "Knock him on the head!" Nana read
+all of the reports of accidents in the newspapers, and made reflections
+that were unnatural for a girl. Her father had such good luck an omnibus
+had knocked him down without even sobering him. Would the beggar never
+croak?
+
+In the midst of her own poverty Gervaise suffered even more because
+other families around her were also starving to death. Their corner of
+the tenement housed the most wretched. There was not a family that ate
+every day.
+
+Gervaise felt the most pity for Pere Bru in his cubbyhole under the
+staircase where he hibernated. Sometimes he stayed on his bed of straw
+without moving for days. Even hunger no longer drove him out since
+there was no use taking a walk when no one would invite him to dinner.
+Whenever he didn't show his face for several days, the neighbors would
+push open his door to see if his troubles were over. No, he was still
+alive, just barely. Even Death seemed to have neglected him. Whenever
+Gervaise had any bread she gave him the crusts. Even when she hated all
+men because of her husband, she still felt sincerely sorry for Pere Bru,
+the poor old man. They were letting him starve to death because he could
+no longer hold tools in his hand.
+
+The laundress also suffered a great deal from the close neighborhood of
+Bazouge, the undertaker's helper. A simple partition, and a very thin
+one, separated the two rooms. He could not put his fingers down his
+throat without her hearing it. As soon as he came home of an evening she
+listened, in spite of herself, to everything he did. His black leather
+hat laid with a dull thud on the chest of drawers, like a shovelful of
+earth; the black cloak hung up and rustling against the walls like the
+wings of some night bird; all the black toggery flung into the middle
+of the room and filling it with the trappings of mourning. She heard
+him stamping about, felt anxious at the least movement, and was quite
+startled if he knocked against the furniture or rattled any of his
+crockery. This confounded drunkard was her preoccupation, filling her
+with a secret fear mingled with a desire to know. He, jolly, his belly
+full every day, his head all upside down, coughed, spat, sang "Mother
+Godichon," made use of many dirty expressions and fought with the
+four walls before finding his bedstead. And she remained quite pale,
+wondering what he could be doing in there. She imagined the most
+atrocious things. She got into her head that he must have brought a
+corpse home, and was stowing it away under his bedstead. Well! the
+newspapers had related something of the kind--an undertaker's helper
+who collected the coffins of little children at his home, so as to save
+himself trouble and to make only one journey to the cemetery.
+
+For certain, directly Bazouge arrived, a smell of death seemed to
+permeate the partition. One might have thought oneself lodging against
+the Pere Lachaise cemetery, in the midst of the kingdom of moles. He was
+frightful, the animal, continually laughing all by himself, as though
+his profession enlivened him. Even when he had finished his rumpus and
+had laid himself on his back, he snored in a manner so extraordinary
+that it caused the laundress to hold her breath. For hours she listened
+attentively, with an idea that funerals were passing through her
+neighbor's room.
+
+The worst was that, in spite of her terrors, something incited Gervaise
+to put her ear to the wall, the better to find out what was taking
+place. Bazouge had the same effect on her as handsome men have on good
+women: they would like to touch them. Well! if fear had not kept her
+back, Gervaise would have liked to have handled death, to see what it
+was like. She became so peculiar at times, holding her breath, listening
+attentively, expecting to unravel the secret through one of Bazouge's
+movements, that Coupeau would ask her with a chuckle if she had a fancy
+for that gravedigger next door. She got angry and talked of moving, the
+close proximity of this neighbor was so distasteful to her; and yet,
+in spite of herself, as soon as the old chap arrived, smelling like a
+cemetery, she became wrapped again in her reflections, with the excited
+and timorous air of a wife thinking of passing a knife through the
+marriage contract. Had he not twice offered to pack her up and carry
+her off with him to some place where the enjoyment of sleep is so great,
+that in a moment one forgets all one's wretchedness? Perhaps it was
+really very pleasant. Little by little the temptation to taste it became
+stronger. She would have liked to have tried it for a fortnight or a
+month. Oh! to sleep a month, especially in winter, the month when the
+rent became due, when the troubles of life were killing her! But it was
+not possible--one must sleep forever, if one commences to sleep for an
+hour; and the thought of this froze her, her desire for death departed
+before the eternal and stern friendship which the earth demanded.
+
+However, one evening in January she knocked with both her fists against
+the partition. She had passed a frightful week, hustled by everyone,
+without a sou, and utterly discouraged. That evening she was not at all
+well, she shivered with fever, and seemed to see flames dancing about
+her. Then, instead of throwing herself out of the window, as she had at
+one moment thought of doing, she set to knocking and calling:
+
+"Old Bazouge! Old Bazouge!"
+
+The undertaker's helper was taking off his shoes and singing, "There
+were three lovely girls." He had probably had a good day, for he seemed
+even more maudlin than usual.
+
+"Old Bazouge! Old Bazouge!" repeated Gervaise, raising her voice.
+
+Did he not hear her then? She was ready to give herself at once; he
+might come and take her on his neck, and carry her off to the place
+where he carried his other women, the poor and the rich, whom he
+consoled. It pained her to hear his song, "There were three lovely
+girls," because she discerned in it the disdain of a man with too many
+sweethearts.
+
+"What is it? what is it?" stuttered Bazouge; "who's unwell? We're
+coming, little woman!"
+
+But the sound of this husky voice awoke Gervaise as though from a
+nightmare. And a feeling of horror ascended from her knees to her
+shoulders at the thought of seeing herself lugged along in the old
+fellow's arms, all stiff and her face as white as a china plate.
+
+"Well! is there no one there now?" resumed Bazouge in silence. "Wait a
+bit, we're always ready to oblige the ladies."
+
+"It's nothing, nothing," said the laundress at length in a choking
+voice. "I don't require anything, thanks."
+
+She remained anxious, listening to old Bazouge grumbling himself to
+sleep, afraid to stir for fear he would think he heard her knocking
+again.
+
+In her corner of misery, in the midst of her cares and the cares of
+others, Gervaise had, however, a beautiful example of courage in the
+home of her neighbors, the Bijards. Little Lalie, only eight years old
+and no larger than a sparrow, took care of the household as competently
+as a grown person. The job was not an easy one because she had two
+little tots, her brother Jules and her sister Henriette, aged three and
+five, to watch all day long while sweeping and cleaning.
+
+Ever since Bijard had killed his wife with a kick in the stomach, Lalie
+had become the little mother of them all. Without saying a word, and of
+her own accord, she filled the place of one who had gone, to the extent
+that her brute of a father, no doubt to complete the resemblance, now
+belabored the daughter as he had formerly belabored the mother. Whenever
+he came home drunk, he required a woman to massacre. He did not even
+notice that Lalie was quite little; he would not have beaten some old
+trollop harder. Little Lalie, so thin it made you cry, took it all
+without a word of complaint in her beautiful, patient eyes. Never would
+she revolt. She bent her neck to protect her face and stifled her sobs
+so as not to alarm the neighbors. When her father got tired of kicking
+her, she would rest a bit until she got her strength back and then
+resume her work. It was part of her job, being beaten daily.
+
+Gervaise entertained a great friendship for her little neighbor. She
+treated her as an equal, as a grown-up woman of experience. It must be
+said that Lalie had a pale and serious look, with the expression of an
+old girl. One might have thought her thirty on hearing her speak. She
+knew very well how to buy things, mend the clothes, attend to the home,
+and she spoke of the children as though she had already gone through
+two or thee nurseries in her time. It made people smile to hear her talk
+thus at eight years old; and then a lump would rise in their throats,
+and they would hurry away so as not to burst out crying. Gervaise drew
+the child towards her as much as she could, gave her all she could spare
+of food and old clothing. One day as she tried one of Nana's old dresses
+on her, she almost choked with anger on seeing her back covered with
+bruises, the skin off her elbow, which was still bleeding, and all her
+innocent flesh martyred and sticking to her bones. Well! Old Bazouge
+could get a box ready; she would not last long at that rate! But the
+child had begged the laundress not to say a word. She would not have
+her father bothered on her account. She took his part, affirming that he
+would not have been so wicked if it had not been for the drink. He was
+mad, he did not know what he did. Oh! she forgave him, because one ought
+to forgive madmen everything.
+
+From that time Gervaise watched and prepared to interfere directly she
+heard Bijard coming up the stairs. But on most of the occasions she only
+caught some whack for her trouble. When she entered their room in the
+day-time, she often found Lalie tied to the foot of the iron bedstead;
+it was an idea of the locksmith's, before going out, to tie her legs
+and her body with some stout rope, without anyone being able to find
+out why--a mere whim of a brain diseased by drink, just for the sake, no
+doubt, of maintaining his tyranny over the child when he was no longer
+there. Lalie, as stiff as a stake, with pins and needles in her legs,
+remained whole days at the post. She once even passed a night there,
+Bijard having forgotten to come home. Whenever Gervaise, carried away
+by her indignation, talked of unfastening her, she implored her not to
+disturb the rope, because her father became furious if he did not find
+the knots tied the same way he had left them. Really, it wasn't so bad,
+it gave her a rest. She smiled as she said this though her legs were
+swollen and bruised. What upset her the most was that she couldn't do
+her work while tied to the bed. She could watch the children though, and
+even did some knitting, so as not to entirely waste the time.
+
+The locksmith had thought of another little game too. He heated sous in
+the frying pan, then placed them on a corner of the mantle-piece; and
+he called Lalie, and told her to fetch a couple of pounds of bread. The
+child took up the sous unsuspectingly, uttered a cry and threw them on
+the ground, shaking her burnt hand. Then he flew into a fury. Who had
+saddled him with such a piece of carrion? She lost the money now! And
+he threatened to beat her to a jelly if she did not pick the sous up at
+once. When the child hesitated she received the first warning, a clout
+of such force that it made her see thirty-six candles. Speechless and
+with two big tears in the corners of her eyes, she would pick up the
+sous and go off, tossing them in the palm of her hand to cool them.
+
+No, one could never imagine the ferocious ideas which may sprout from
+the depths of a drunkard's brain. One afternoon, for instance, Lalie
+having made everything tidy was playing with the children. The window
+was open, there was a draught, and the wind blowing along the passage
+gently shook the door.
+
+"It's Monsieur Hardy," the child was saying. "Come in, Monsieur Hardy.
+Pray have the kindness to walk in."
+
+And she curtsied before the door, she bowed to the wind. Henriette and
+Jules, behind her, also bowed, delighted with the game and splitting
+their sides with laughing, as though being tickled. She was quite rosy
+at seeing them so heartily amused and even found some pleasure in it
+on her own account, which generally only happened to her on the
+thirty-sixth day of each month.
+
+"Good day, Monsieur Hardy. How do you do, Monsieur Hardy?"
+
+But a rough hand pushed open the door, and Bijard entered. Then the
+scene changed. Henriette and Jules fell down flat against the wall;
+whilst Lalie, terrified, remained standing in the very middle of the
+curtsey. The locksmith held in his hand a big waggoner's whip, quite
+new, with a long white wooden handle, and a leather thong, terminating
+with a bit of whip-cord. He placed the whip in the corner against
+the bed and did not give the usual kick to the child who was already
+preparing herself by presenting her back. A chuckle exposed his
+blackened teeth and he was very lively, very drunk, his red face lighted
+up by some idea that amused him immensely.
+
+"What's that?" said he. "You're playing the deuce, eh, you confounded
+young hussy! I could hear you dancing about from downstairs. Now then,
+come here! Nearer and full face. I don't want to sniff you from behind.
+Am I touching you that you tremble like a mass of giblets? Take my shoes
+off."
+
+Lalie turned quite pale again and, amazed at not receiving her usual
+drubbing, took his shoes off. He had seated himself on the edge of the
+bed. He lay down with his clothes on and remained with his eyes open,
+watching the child move about the room. She busied herself with one
+thing and another, gradually becoming bewildered beneath his glance, her
+limbs overcome by such a fright that she ended by breaking a cup. Then,
+without getting off the bed, he took hold of the whip and showed it to
+her.
+
+"See, little chickie, look at this. It's a present for you. Yes, it's
+another fifty sous you've cost me. With this plaything I shall no longer
+be obliged to run after you, and it'll be no use you getting into the
+corners. Will you have a try? Ah! you broke a cup! Now then, gee up!
+Dance away, make your curtsies to Monsieur Hardy!"
+
+He did not even raise himself but lay sprawling on his back, his head
+buried in his pillow, making the big whip crack about the room with the
+noise of a postillion starting his horses. Then, lowering his arm he
+lashed Lalie in the middle of the body, encircling her with the whip
+and unwinding it again as though she were a top. She fell and tried to
+escape on her hands and knees; but lashing her again he jerked her to
+her feet.
+
+"Gee up, gee up!" yelled he. "It's the donkey race! Eh, it'll be fine of
+a cold morning in winter. I can lie snug without getting cold or hurting
+my chilblains and catch the calves from a distance. In that corner
+there, a hit, you hussy! And in that other corner, a hit again! And in
+that one, another hit. Ah! if you crawl under the bed I'll whack you
+with the handle. Gee up, you jade! Gee up! Gee up!"
+
+A slight foam came to his lips, his yellow eyes were starting from their
+black orbits. Lalie, maddened, howling, jumped to the four corners of
+the room, curled herself up on the floor and clung to the walls; but the
+lash at the end of the big whip caught her everywhere, cracking against
+her ears with the noise of fireworks, streaking her flesh with burning
+weals. A regular dance of the animal being taught its tricks. This poor
+kitten waltzed. It was a sight! Her heels in the air like little girls
+playing at skipping, and crying "Father!" She was all out of breath,
+rebounding like an india-rubber ball, letting herself be beaten,
+unable to see or any longer to seek a refuge. And her wolf of a father
+triumphed, calling her a virago, asking her if she had had enough and
+whether she understood sufficiently that she was in future to give up
+all hope of escaping from him.
+
+But Gervaise suddenly entered the room, attracted by the child's howls.
+On beholding such a scene she was seized with a furious indignation.
+
+"Ah! you brute of a man!" cried she. "Leave her alone, you brigand! I'll
+put the police on to you."
+
+Bijard growled like an animal being disturbed, and stuttered:
+
+"Mind your own business a bit, Limper. Perhaps you'd like me to put
+gloves on when I stir her up. It's merely to warm her, as you can
+plainly see--simply to show her that I've a long arm."
+
+And he gave a final lash with the whip which caught Lalie across the
+face. The upper lip was cut, the blood flowed. Gervaise had seized a
+chair, and was about to fall on to the locksmith; but the child held her
+hands towards her imploringly, saying that it was nothing and that it
+was all over. She wiped away the blood with the corner of her apron
+and quieted the babies, who were sobbing bitterly, as though they had
+received all the blows.
+
+Whenever Gervaise thought of Lalie, she felt she had no right to
+complain for herself. She wished she had as much patient courage as the
+little girl who was only eight years old and had to endure more than the
+rest of the women on their staircase put together. She had seen Lalie
+living on stale bread for months and growing thinner and weaker.
+Whenever she smuggled some remnants of meat to Lalie, it almost broke
+her heart to see the child weeping silently and nibbling it down only by
+little bits because her throat was so shrunken. Gervaise looked on Lalie
+as a model of suffering and forgiveness and tried to learn from her how
+to suffer in silence.
+
+In the Coupeau household the vitriol of l'Assommoir was also commencing
+its ravages. Gervaise could see the day coming when her husband would
+get a whip like Bijard's to make her dance.
+
+Yes, Coupeau was spinning an evil thread. The time was past when a drink
+would make him feel good. His unhealthy soft fat of earlier years had
+melted away and he was beginning to wither and turn a leaden grey. He
+seemed to have a greenish tint like a corpse putrefying in a pond. He
+no longer had a taste for food, not even the most beautifully prepared
+stew. His stomach would turn and his decayed teeth refuse to touch it.
+A pint a day was his daily ration, the only nourishment he could digest.
+When he awoke in the mornings he sat coughing and spitting up bile for
+at least a quarter of an hour. It never failed, you might as well have
+the basin ready. He was never steady on his pins till after his first
+glass of consolation, a real remedy, the fire of which cauterized his
+bowels; but during the day his strength returned. At first he would feel
+a tickling sensation, a sort of pins-and-needles in his hands and feet;
+and he would joke, relating that someone was having a lark with him,
+that he was sure his wife put horse-hair between the sheets. Then his
+legs would become heavy, the tickling sensation would end by turning
+into the most abominable cramps, which gripped his flesh as though in
+a vise. That though did not amuse him so much. He no longer laughed; he
+stopped suddenly on the pavement in a bewildered way with a ringing in
+his ears and his eyes blinded with sparks. Everything appeared to him to
+be yellow; the houses danced and he reeled about for three seconds with
+the fear of suddenly finding himself sprawling on the ground. At other
+times, while the sun was shining full on his back, he would shiver as
+though iced water had been poured down his shoulders. What bothered
+him the most was a slight trembling of both his hands; the right hand
+especially must have been guilty of some crime, it suffered from so many
+nightmares. _Mon Dieu!_ was he then no longer a man? He was becoming
+an old woman! He furiously strained his muscles, he seized hold of his
+glass and bet that he would hold it perfectly steady as with a hand of
+marble; but in spite of his efforts the glass danced about, jumped
+to the right, jumped to the left with a hurried and regular trembling
+movement. Then in a fury he emptied it into his gullet, yelling that
+he would require dozens like it, and afterwards he undertook to carry
+a cask without so much as moving a finger. Gervaise, on the other
+hand, told him to give up drink if he wished to cease trembling, and
+he laughed at her, emptying quarts until he experienced the sensation
+again, flying into a rage and accusing the passing omnibuses of shaking
+up his liquor.
+
+In the month of March Coupeau returned home one evening soaked through.
+He had come with My-Boots from Montrouge, where they had stuffed
+themselves full of eel soup, and he had received the full force of
+the shower all the way from the Barriere des Fourneaux to the Barriere
+Poissonniere, a good distance. During the night he was seized with
+a confounded fit of coughing. He was very flushed, suffering from a
+violent fever and panting like a broken bellows. When the Boches' doctor
+saw him in the morning and listened against his back he shook his head,
+and drew Gervaise aside to advise her to have her husband taken to the
+hospital. Coupeau was suffering from pneumonia.
+
+Gervaise did not worry herself, you may be sure. At one time she
+would have been chopped into pieces before trusting her old man to the
+saw-bones. After the accident in the Rue de la Nation she had spent
+their savings in nursing him. But those beautiful sentiments don't last
+when men take to wallowing in the mire. No, no; she did not intend to
+make a fuss like that again. They might take him and never bring him
+back; she would thank them heartily. Yet, when the litter arrived and
+Coupeau was put into it like an article of furniture, she became all
+pale and bit her lips; and if she grumbled and still said it was a good
+job, her heart was no longer in her words. Had she but ten francs in her
+drawer she would not have let him go.
+
+She accompanied him to the Lariboisiere Hospital, saw the nurses put him
+to bed at the end of a long hall, where the patients in a row, looking
+like corpses, raised themselves up and followed with their eyes the
+comrade who had just been brought in. It was a veritable death chamber.
+There was a suffocating, feverish odor and a chorus of coughing. The
+long hall gave the impression of a small cemetery with its double row of
+white beds looking like an aisle of marble tombs. When Coupeau remained
+motionless on his pillow, Gervaise left, having nothing to say, nor
+anything in her pocket that could comfort him.
+
+Outside, she turned to look up at the monumental structure of the
+hospital and recalled the days when Coupeau was working there, putting
+on the zinc roof, perched up high and singing in the sun. He wasn't
+drinking in those days. She used to watch for him from her window in the
+Hotel Boncoeur and they would both wave their handkerchiefs in greeting.
+Now, instead of being on the roof like a cheerful sparrow, he was down
+below. He had built his own place in the hospital where he had come to
+die. _Mon Dieu!_ It all seemed so far way now, that time of young love.
+
+On the day after the morrow, when Gervaise called to obtain news of him,
+she found the bed empty. A Sister of Charity told her that they had been
+obliged to remove her husband to the Asylum of Sainte-Anne, because the
+day before he had suddenly gone wild. Oh! a total leave-taking of
+his senses; attempts to crack his skull against the wall; howls which
+prevented the other patients from sleeping. It all came from drink, it
+seemed. Gervaise went home very upset. Well, her husband had gone crazy.
+What would it be like if he came home? Nana insisted that they should
+leave him in the hospital because he might end by killing both of them.
+
+Gervaise was not able to go to Sainte-Anne until Sunday. It was
+a tremendous journey. Fortunately, the omnibus from the Boulevard
+Rochechouart to La Glaciere passed close to the asylum. She went down
+the Rue de la Sante, buying two oranges on her way, so as not to arrive
+empty-handed. It was another monumental building, with grey courtyards,
+interminable corridors and a smell of rank medicaments, which did not
+exactly inspire liveliness. But when they had admitted her into a cell
+she was quite surprised to see Coupeau almost jolly. He was just then
+seated on the throne, a spotlessly clean wooden case, and they both
+laughed at her finding him in this position. Well, one knows what an
+invalid is. He squatted there like a pope with his cheek of earlier
+days. Oh! he was better, as he could do this.
+
+"And the pneumonia?" inquired the laundress.
+
+"Done for!" replied he. "They cured it in no time. I still cough a
+little, but that's all that is left of it."
+
+Then at the moment of leaving the throne to get back into his bed,
+he joked once more. "It's lucky you have a strong nose and are not
+bothered."
+
+They laughed louder than ever. At heart they felt joyful. It was by way
+of showing their contentment without a host of phrases that they thus
+joked together. One must have had to do with patients to know the
+pleasure one feels at seeing all their functions at work again.
+
+When he was back in bed she gave him the two oranges and this filled
+him with emotion. He was becoming quite nice again ever since he had
+had nothing but tisane to drink. She ended by venturing to speak to him
+about his violent attack, surprised at hearing him reason like in the
+good old times.
+
+"Ah, yes," said he, joking at his own expense; "I talked a precious lot
+of nonsense! Just fancy, I saw rats and ran about on all fours to put
+a grain of salt under their tails. And you, you called to me, men were
+trying to kill you. In short, all sorts of stupid things, ghosts in
+broad daylight. Oh! I remember it well, my noodle's still solid.
+Now it's over, I dream a bit when I'm asleep. I have nightmares, but
+everyone has nightmares."
+
+Gervaise remained with him until the evening. When the house surgeon
+came, at the six o'clock inspection, he made him spread his hands; they
+hardly trembled at all, scarcely a quiver at the tips of the fingers.
+However, as night approached, Coupeau was little by little seized with
+uneasiness. He twice sat up in bed looking on the ground and in the dark
+corners of the room. Suddenly he thrust out an arm and appeared to crush
+some vermin against the wall.
+
+"What is it?" asked Gervaise, frightened.
+
+"The rats! The rats!" murmured he.
+
+Then, after a pause, gliding into sleep, he tossed about, uttering
+disconnected phrases.
+
+"_Mon Dieu!_ they're tearing my skin!--Oh! the filthy beasts!--Keep
+steady! Hold your skirts right round you! beware of the dirty
+bloke behind you!--_Mon Dieu!_ she's down and the scoundrels
+laugh!--Scoundrels! Blackguards! Brigands!"
+
+He dealt blows into space, caught hold of his blanket and rolled it into
+a bundle against his chest, as though to protect the latter from the
+violence of the bearded men whom he beheld. Then, an attendant having
+hastened to the spot, Gervaise withdrew, quite frozen by the scene.
+
+But when she returned a few days later, she found Coupeau completely
+cured. Even the nightmares had left him; he could sleep his ten hours
+right off as peacefully as a child and without stirring a limb. So his
+wife was allowed to take him away. The house surgeon gave him the usual
+good advice on leaving and advised him to follow it. If he recommenced
+drinking, he would again collapse and would end by dying. Yes, it solely
+depended upon himself. He had seen how jolly and healthy one could
+become when one did not get drunk. Well, he must continue at home the
+sensible life he had led at Sainte-Anne, fancy himself under lock and
+key and that dram-shops no longer existed.
+
+"The gentleman's right," said Gervaise in the omnibus which was taking
+them back to the Rue de la Goutte-d'Or.
+
+"Of course he's right," replied Coupeau.
+
+Then, after thinking a minute, he resumed:
+
+"Oh! you know, a little glass now and again can't kill a man; it helps
+the digestion."
+
+And that very evening he swallowed a glass of bad spirit, just to keep
+his stomach in order. For eight days he was pretty reasonable. He was a
+great coward at heart; he had no desire to end his days in the Bicetre
+mad-house. But his passion got the better of him; the first little glass
+led him, in spite of himself, to a second, to a third and to a fourth,
+and at the end of a fortnight, he had got back to his old ration, a pint
+of vitriol a day. Gervaise, exasperated, could have beaten him. To think
+that she had been stupid enough to dream once more of leading a worthy
+life, just because she had seen him at the asylum in full possession of
+his good sense! Another joyful hour had flown, the last one no doubt!
+Oh! now, as nothing could reclaim him, not even the fear of his near
+death, she swore she would no longer put herself out; the home might
+be all at sixes and sevens, she did not care any longer; and she talked
+also of leaving him.
+
+Then hell upon earth recommenced, a life sinking deeper into the mire,
+without a glimmer of hope for something better to follow. Nana, whenever
+her father clouted her, furiously asked why the brute was not at the
+hospital. She was awaiting the time when she would be earning money, she
+would say, to treat him to brandy and make him croak quicker. Gervaise,
+on her side, flew into a passion one day that Coupeau was regretting
+their marriage. Ah! she had brought him her saucy children; ah! she had
+got herself picked up from the pavement, wheedling him with rosy dreams!
+_Mon Dieu!_ he had a rare cheek! So many words, so many lies. She hadn't
+wished to have anything to do with him, that was the truth. He had
+dragged himself at her feet to make her give way, whilst she was
+advising him to think well what he was about. And if it was all to come
+over again, he would hear how she would just say "no!" She would sooner
+have an arm cut off. Yes, she'd had a lover before him; but a woman who
+has had a lover, and who is a worker, is worth more than a sluggard of a
+man who sullies his honor and that of his family in all the dram-shops.
+That day, for the first time, the Coupeaus went in for a general brawl,
+and they whacked each other so hard that an old umbrella and the broom
+were broken.
+
+Gervaise kept her word. She sank lower and lower; she missed going to
+her work oftener, spent whole days in gossiping, and became as soft as a
+rag whenever she had a task to perform. If a thing fell from her hands,
+it might remain on the floor; it was certainly not she who would have
+stooped to pick it up. She took her ease about everything, and never
+handled a broom except when the accumulation of filth almost brought her
+to the ground. The Lorilleuxs now made a point of holding something to
+their noses whenever they passed her room; the stench was poisonous,
+said they. Those hypocrites slyly lived at the end of the passage, out
+of the way of all these miseries which filled the corner of the house
+with whimpering, locking themselves in so as not to have to lend twenty
+sou pieces. Oh! kind-hearted folks, neighbors awfully obliging! Yes,
+you may be sure! One had only to knock and ask for a light or a pinch
+of salt or a jug of water, one was certain of getting the door banged
+in one's face. With all that they had vipers' tongues. They protested
+everywhere that they never occupied themselves with other people. This
+was true whenever it was a question of assisting a neighbor; but they
+did so from morning to night, directly they had a chance of pulling
+any one to pieces. With the door bolted and a rug hung up to cover
+the chinks and the key-hole, they would treat themselves to a spiteful
+gossip without leaving their gold wire for a moment.
+
+The fall of Clump-clump in particular kept them purring like pet cats.
+Completely ruined! Not a sou remaining. They smiled gleefully at the
+small piece of bread she would bring back when she went shopping and
+kept count of the days when she had nothing at all to eat. And the
+clothes she wore now. Disgusting rags! That's what happened when one
+tried to live high.
+
+Gervaise, who had an idea of the way in which they spoke of her, would
+take her shoes off, and place her ear against their door; but the rug
+over the door prevented her from hearing much. She was heartily sick of
+them; she continued to speak to them, to avoid remarks, though expecting
+nothing but unpleasantness from such nasty persons, but no longer having
+strength even to give them as much as they gave her, passed the insults
+off as a lot of nonsense. And besides she only wanted her own pleasure,
+to sit in a heap twirling her thumbs, and only moving when it was a
+question of amusing herself, nothing more.
+
+One Saturday Coupeau had promised to take her to the circus. It was well
+worth while disturbing oneself to see ladies galloping along on horses
+and jumping through paper hoops. Coupeau had just finished a fortnight's
+work, he could well spare a couple of francs; and they had also arranged
+to dine out, just the two of them, Nana having to work very late that
+evening at her employer's because of some pressing order. But at seven
+o'clock there was no Coupeau; at eight o'clock it was still the same.
+Gervaise was furious. Her drunkard was certainly squandering his
+earnings with his comrades at the dram-shops of the neighborhood. She
+had washed a cap and had been slaving since the morning over the holes
+of an old dress, wishing to look decent. At last, towards nine o'clock,
+her stomach empty, her face purple with rage, she decided to go down and
+look for Coupeau.
+
+"Is it your husband you want?" called Madame Boche, on catching sight of
+Gervaise looking very glum. "He's at Pere Colombe's. Boche has just been
+having some cherry brandy with him."
+
+Gervaise uttered her thanks and stalked stiffly along the pavement with
+the determination of flying at Coupeau's eyes. A fine rain was falling
+which made the walk more unpleasant still. But when she reached
+l'Assommoir, the fear of receiving the drubbing herself if she badgered
+her old man suddenly calmed her and made her prudent. The shop was
+ablaze with the lighted gas, the flames of which were as brilliant as
+suns, and the bottles and jars illuminated the walls with their colored
+glass. She stood there an instant stretching her neck, her eyes close to
+the window, looking between two bottle placed there for show, watching
+Coupeau who was right at the back; he was sitting with some comrades at
+a little zinc table, all looking vague and blue in the tobacco smoke;
+and, as one could not hear them yelling, it created a funny effect to
+see them gesticulating with their chins thrust forward and their eyes
+starting out of their heads. Good heavens! Was it really possible that
+men could leave their wives and their homes to shut themselves up thus
+in a hole where they were choking?
+
+The rain trickled down her neck; she drew herself up and went off to the
+exterior Boulevard, wrapped in thought and not daring to enter. Ah! well
+Coupeau would have welcomed her in a pleasant way, he who objected to be
+spied upon! Besides, it really scarcely seemed to her the proper place
+for a respectable woman. Twice she went back and stood before the shop
+window, her eyes again riveted to the glass, annoyed at still beholding
+those confounded drunkards out of the rain and yelling and drinking. The
+light of l'Assommoir was reflected in the puddles on the pavement,
+which simmered with little bubbles caused by the downpour. At length
+she thought she was too foolish, and pushing open the door, she walked
+straight up to the table where Coupeau was sitting. After all it was her
+husband she came for, was it not? And she was authorized in doing so,
+because he had promised to take her to the circus that evening. So much
+the worse! She had no desire to melt like a cake of soap out on the
+pavement.
+
+"Hullo! It's you, old woman!" exclaimed the zinc-worker, half choking
+with a chuckle. "Ah! that's a good joke. Isn't it a good joke now?"
+
+All the company laughed. Gervaise remained standing, feeling rather
+bewildered. Coupeau appeared to her to be in a pleasant humor, so she
+ventured to say:
+
+"You remember, we've somewhere to go. We must hurry. We shall still be
+in time to see something."
+
+"I can't get up, I'm glued, oh! without joking," resumed Coupeau, who
+continued laughing. "Try, just to satisfy yourself; pull my arm with all
+your strength; try it! harder than that, tug away, up with it! You see
+it's that louse Pere Colombe who's screwed me to his seat."
+
+Gervaise had humored him at this game, and when she let go of his arm,
+the comrades thought the joke so good that they tumbled up against one
+another, braying and rubbing their shoulders like donkeys being groomed.
+The zinc-worker's mouth was so wide with laughter that you could see
+right down his throat.
+
+"You great noodle!" said he at length, "you can surely sit down a
+minute. You're better here than splashing about outside. Well, yes; I
+didn't come home as I promised, I had business to attend to. Though you
+may pull a long face, it won't alter matters. Make room, you others."
+
+"If madame would accept my knees she would find them softer than the
+seat," gallantly said My-Boots.
+
+Gervaise, not wishing to attract attention, took a chair and sat down
+at a short distance from the table. She looked at what the men were
+drinking, some rotgut brandy which shone like gold in the glasses; a
+little of it had dropped upon the table and Salted-Mouth, otherwise
+Drink-without-Thirst, dipped his finger in it whilst conversing and
+wrote a woman's name--"Eulalie"--in big letters. She noticed
+that Bibi-the-Smoker looked shockingly jaded and thinner than a
+hundred-weight of nails. My-Boot's nose was in full bloom, a regular
+purple Burgundy dahlia. They were all quite dirty, their beards stiff,
+their smocks ragged and stained, their hands grimy with dirt. Yet they
+were still quite polite.
+
+Gervaise noticed a couple of men at the bar. They were so drunk that
+they were spilling the drink down their chins when they thought they
+were wetting their whistles. Fat Pere Colombe was calmly serving round
+after round.
+
+The atmosphere was very warm, the smoke from the pipes ascended in
+the blinding glare of the gas, amidst which it rolled about like dust,
+drowning the customers in a gradually thickening mist; and from this
+cloud there issued a deafening and confused uproar, cracked voices,
+clinking of glasses, oaths and blows sounding like detonations. So
+Gervaise pulled a very wry face, for such a sight is not funny for a
+woman, especially when she is not used to it; she was stifling, with a
+smarting sensation in her eyes, and her head already feeling heavy
+from the alcoholic fumes exhaled by the whole place. Then she suddenly
+experienced the sensation of something more unpleasant still behind
+her back. She turned round and beheld the still, the machine which
+manufactured drunkards, working away beneath the glass roof of the
+narrow courtyard with the profound trepidation of its hellish cookery.
+Of an evening, the copper parts looked more mournful than ever, lit up
+only on their rounded surface with one big red glint; and the shadow of
+the apparatus on the wall at the back formed most abominable figures,
+bodies with tails, monsters opening their jaws as though to swallow
+everyone up.
+
+"Listen, mother Talk-too-much, don't make any of your grimaces!" cried
+Coupeau. "To blazes, you know, with all wet blankets! What'll you
+drink?"
+
+"Nothing, of course," replied the laundress. "I haven't dined yet."
+
+"Well! that's all the more reason for having a glass; a drop of
+something sustains one."
+
+But, as she still retained her glum expression, My-Boots again did the
+gallant.
+
+"Madame probably likes sweet things," murmured he.
+
+"I like men who don't get drunk," retorted she, getting angry. "Yes, I
+like a fellow who brings home his earnings, and who keeps his word when
+he makes a promise."
+
+"Ah! so that's what upsets you?" said the zinc-worker, without ceasing
+to chuckle. "Yes, you want your share. Then, big goose, why do you
+refuse a drink? Take it, it's so much to the good."
+
+She looked at him fixedly, in a grave manner, a wrinkle marking her
+forehead with a black line. And she slowly replied:
+
+"Why, you're right, it's a good idea. That way, we can drink up the coin
+together."
+
+Bibi-the-Smoker rose from his seat to fetch her a glass of anisette. She
+drew her chair up to the table. Whilst she was sipping her anisette, a
+recollection suddenly flashed across her mind, she remembered the plum
+she had taken with Coupeau, near the door, in the old days, when he
+was courting her. At that time, she used to leave the juice of fruits
+preserved in brandy. And now, here was she going back to liqueurs. Oh!
+she knew herself well, she had not two thimblefuls of will. One would
+only have had to have given her a walloping across the back to have made
+her regularly wallow in drink. The anisette even seemed to be very good,
+perhaps rather too sweet and slightly sickening. She went on sipping as
+she listened to Salted-Mouth, otherwise Drink-without-Thirst, tell of
+his affair with fat Eulalie, a fish peddler and very shrewd at locating
+him. Even if his comrades tried to hide him, she could usually sniff
+him out when he was late. Just the night before she had slapped his
+face with a flounder to teach him not to neglect going to work.
+Bibi-the-Smoker and My-Boots nearly split their sides laughing. They
+slapped Gervaise on the shoulder and she began to laugh also, finding it
+amusing in spite of herself. They then advised her to follow Eulalie's
+example and bring an iron with her so as to press Coupeau's ears on the
+counters of the wineshops.
+
+"Ah, well, no thanks," cried Coupeau as he turned upside down the glass
+his wife had emptied. "You pump it out pretty well. Just look, you
+fellows, she doesn't take long over it."
+
+"Will madame take another?" asked Salted-Mouth, otherwise
+Drink-without-Thirst.
+
+No, she had had enough. Yet she hesitated. The anisette had slightly
+bothered her stomach. She should have taken straight brandy to settle
+her digestion.
+
+She cast side glances at the drunkard manufacturing machine behind her.
+That confounded pot, as round as the stomach of a tinker's fat wife,
+with its nose that was so long and twisted, sent a shiver down her back,
+a fear mingled with a desire. Yes, one might have thought it the metal
+pluck of some big wicked woman, of some witch who was discharging drop
+by drop the fire of her entrails. A fine source of poison, an operation
+which should have been hidden away in a cellar, it was so brazen and
+abominable! But all the same she would have liked to have poked her nose
+inside it, to have sniffed the odor, have tasted the filth, though the
+skin might have peeled off her burnt tongue like the rind off an orange.
+
+"What's that you're drinking?" asked she slyly of the men, her eyes
+lighted up by the beautiful golden color of their glasses.
+
+"That, old woman," answered Coupeau, "is Pere Colombe's camphor. Don't
+be silly now and we'll give you a taste."
+
+And when they had brought her a glass of the vitriol, the rotgut, and
+her jaws had contracted at the first mouthful, the zinc-worker resumed,
+slapping his thighs:
+
+"Ha! It tickles your gullet! Drink it off at one go. Each glassful
+cheats the doctor of six francs."
+
+At the second glass Gervaise no longer felt the hunger which had been
+tormenting her. Now she had made it up with Coupeau, she no longer felt
+angry with him for not having kept his word. They would go to the circus
+some other day; it was not so funny to see jugglers galloping about on
+houses. There was no rain inside Pere Colombe's and if the money went
+in brandy, one at least had it in one's body; one drank it bright and
+shining like beautiful liquid gold. Ah! she was ready to send the whole
+world to blazes! Life was not so pleasant after all, besides it seemed
+some consolation to her to have her share in squandering the cash.
+As she was comfortable, why should she not remain? One might have a
+discharge of artillery; she did not care to budge once she had settled
+in a heap. She nursed herself in a pleasant warmth, her bodice sticking
+to her back, overcome by a feeling of comfort which benumbed her limbs.
+She laughed all to herself, her elbows on the table, a vacant look in
+her eyes, highly amused by two customers, a fat heavy fellow and a tiny
+shrimp, seated at a neighboring table, and kissing each other lovingly.
+Yes, she laughed at the things to see in l'Assommoir, at Pere Colombe's
+full moon face, a regular bladder of lard, at the customers smoking
+their short clay pipes, yelling and spitting, and at the big flames of
+gas which lighted up the looking-glasses and the bottles of liqueurs.
+The smell no longer bothered her, on the contrary it tickled her nose,
+and she thought it very pleasant. Her eyes slightly closed, whilst she
+breathed very slowly, without the least feeling of suffocation, tasting
+the enjoyment of the gentle slumber which was overcoming her. Then,
+after her third glass, she let her chin fall on her hands; she now only
+saw Coupeau and his comrades, and she remained nose to nose with them,
+quite close, her cheeks warmed by their breath, looking at their dirty
+beards as though she had been counting the hairs. My-Boots drooled,
+his pipe between his teeth, with the dumb and grave air of a dozing ox.
+Bibi-the-Smoker was telling a story--the manner in which he emptied a
+bottle at a draught, giving it such a kiss that one instantly saw its
+bottom. Meanwhile Salted-Mouth, otherwise Drink-without-Thirst, had gone
+and fetched the wheel of fortune from the counter, and was playing with
+Coupeau for drinks.
+
+"Two hundred! You're lucky; you get high numbers every time!"
+
+The needle of the wheel grated, and the figure of Fortune, a big red
+woman placed under glass, turned round and round until it looked like a
+mere spot in the centre, similar to a wine stain.
+
+"Three hundred and fifty! You must have been inside it, you confounded
+lascar! Ah! I shan't play any more!"
+
+Gervaise amused herself with the wheel of fortune. She was feeling
+awfully thirsty, and calling My-Boots "my child." Behind her the machine
+for manufacturing drunkards continued working, with its murmur of an
+underground stream; and she despaired of ever stopping it, of exhausting
+it, filled with a sullen anger against it, feeling a longing to spring
+upon the big still as upon some animal, to kick it with her heels and
+stave in its belly. Then everything began to seem all mixed up. The
+machine seemed to be moving itself and she thought she was being grabbed
+by its copper claws, and that the underground stream was now flowing
+over her body.
+
+Then the room danced round, the gas-jets seemed to shoot like stars.
+Gervaise was drunk. She heard a furious wrangle between Salted-Mouth,
+otherwise Drink-without-Thirst, and that rascal Pere Colombe. There was
+a thief of a landlord who wanted one to pay for what one had not
+had! Yet one was not at a gangster's hang-out. Suddenly there was a
+scuffling, yells were heard and tables were upset. It was Pere Colombe
+who was turning the party out without the least hesitation, and in the
+twinkling of an eye. On the other side of the door they blackguarded him
+and called him a scoundrel. It still rained and blew icy cold. Gervaise
+lost Coupeau, found him and then lost him again. She wished to go home;
+she felt the shops to find her way. This sudden darkness surprised her
+immensely. At the corner of the Rue des Poissonniers, she sat down in
+the gutter thinking she was at the wash-house. The water which flowed
+along caused her head to swim, and made her very ill. At length she
+arrived, she passed stiffly before the concierge's room where she
+perfectly recognized the Lorilleuxs and the Poissons seated at the table
+having dinner, and who made grimaces of disgust on beholding her in that
+sorry state.
+
+She never remembered how she had got up all those flights of stairs.
+Just as she was turning into the passage at the top, little Lalie, who
+heard her footsteps, hastened to meet her, opening her arms caressingly,
+and saying, with a smile:
+
+"Madame Gervaise, papa has not returned. Just come and see my little
+children sleeping. Oh! they look so pretty!"
+
+But on beholding the laundress' besotted face, she tremblingly drew
+back. She was acquainted with that brandy-laden breath, those pale eyes,
+that convulsed mouth. Then Gervaise stumbled past without uttering a
+word, whilst the child, standing on the threshold of her room, followed
+her with her dark eyes, grave and speechless.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XI
+
+Nana was growing up and becoming wayward. At fifteen years old she had
+expanded like a calf, white-skinned and very fat; so plump, indeed, you
+might have called her a pincushion. Yes, such she was--fifteen years
+old, full of figure and no stays. A saucy magpie face, dipped in milk, a
+skin as soft as a peach skin, a funny nose, pink lips and eyes sparkling
+like tapers, which men would have liked to light their pipes at. Her
+pile of fair hair, the color of fresh oats, seemed to have scattered
+gold dust over her temples, freckle-like as it were, giving her brow a
+sunny crown. Ah! a pretty doll, as the Lorilleuxs say, a dirty nose that
+needed wiping, with fat shoulders, which were as fully rounded and as
+powerful as those of a full-grown woman. Nana no longer needed to stuff
+wads of paper into her bodice, her breasts were grown. She wished they
+were larger though, and dreamed of having breasts like a wet-nurse.
+
+What made her particularly tempting was a nasty habit she had of
+protruding the tip of her tongue between her white teeth. No doubt on
+seeing herself in the looking-glasses she had thought she was pretty
+like this; and so, all day long, she poked her tongue out of her mouth,
+in view of improving her appearance.
+
+"Hide your lying tongue!" cried her mother.
+
+Coupeau would often get involved, pounding his fist, swearing and
+shouting:
+
+"Make haste and draw that red rag inside again!"
+
+Nana showed herself very coquettish. She did not always wash her feet,
+but she bought such tight boots that she suffered martyrdom in St.
+Crispin's prison; and if folks questioned her when she turned purple
+with pain, she answered that she had the stomach ache, so as to avoid
+confessing her coquetry. When bread was lacking at home it was difficult
+for her to trick herself out. But she accomplished miracles, brought
+ribbons back from the workshop and concocted toilettes--dirty dresses
+set off with bows and puffs. The summer was the season of her greatest
+triumphs. With a cambric dress which had cost her six francs she filled
+the whole neighborhood of the Goutte-d'Or with her fair beauty. Yes, she
+was known from the outer Boulevards to the Fortifications, and from the
+Chaussee de Clignancourt to the Grand Rue of La Chapelle. Folks called
+her "chickie," for she was really as tender and as fresh-looking as a
+chicken.
+
+There was one dress which suited her perfectly, a white one with pink
+dots. It was very simple and without a frill. The skirt was rather short
+and revealed her ankles. The sleeves were deeply slashed and loose,
+showing her arms to the elbow. She pinned the neck back into a wide V as
+soon as she reached a dark corner of the staircase to avoid getting her
+ears boxed by her father for exposing the snowy whiteness of her throat
+and the golden shadow between her breasts. She also tied a pink ribbon
+round her blond hair.
+
+Sundays she spent the entire day out with the crowds and loved it when
+the men eyed her hungrily as they passed. She waited all week long for
+these glances. She would get up early to dress herself and spend hours
+before the fragment of mirror that was hung over the bureau. Her mother
+would scold her because the entire building could see her through the
+window in her chemise as she mended her dress.
+
+Ah! she looked cute like that said father Coupeau, sneering and jeering
+at her, a real Magdalene in despair! She might have turned "savage
+woman" at a fair, and have shown herself for a penny. Hide your meat, he
+used to say, and let me eat my bread! In fact, she was adorable, white
+and dainty under her overhanging golden fleece, losing temper to the
+point that her skin turned pink, not daring to answer her father, but
+cutting her thread with her teeth with a hasty, furious jerk, which
+shook her plump but youthful form.
+
+Then immediately after breakfast she tripped down the stairs into the
+courtyard. The entire tenement seemed to be resting sleepily in the
+peacefulness of a Sunday afternoon. The workshops on the ground floor
+were closed. Gaping windows revealed tables in some apartments that were
+already set for dinner, awaiting families out working up an appetite by
+strolling along the fortifications.
+
+Then, in the midst of the empty, echoing courtyard, Nana, Pauline and
+other big girls engaged in games of battledore and shuttlecock. They
+had grown up together and were now becoming queens of their building.
+Whenever a man crossed the court, flutelike laugher would arise, and
+then starched skirts would rustle like the passing of a gust of wind.
+
+The games were only an excuse for them to make their escape. Suddenly
+stillness fell upon the tenement. The girls had glided out into the
+street and made for the outer Boulevards. Then, linked arm-in-arm across
+the full breadth of the pavement, they went off, the whole six of them,
+clad in light colors, with ribbons tied around their bare heads. With
+bright eyes darting stealthy glances through their partially closed
+eyelids, they took note of everything, and constantly threw back their
+necks to laugh, displaying the fleshy part of their chins. They would
+swing their hips, or group together tightly, or flaunt along with
+awkward grace, all for the purpose of calling attention to the fact that
+their forms were filling out.
+
+Nana was in the centre with her pink dress all aglow in the sunlight.
+She gave her arm to Pauline, whose costume, yellow flowers on a white
+ground, glared in similar fashion, dotted as it were with little flames.
+As they were the tallest of the band, the most woman-like and most
+unblushing, they led the troop and drew themselves up with breasts well
+forward whenever they detected glances or heard complimentary remarks.
+The others extended right and left, puffing themselves out in order to
+attract attention. Nana and Pauline resorted to the complicated devices
+of experienced coquettes. If they ran till they were out of breath, it
+was in view of showing their white stockings and making the ribbons
+of their chignons wave in the breeze. When they stopped, pretending
+complete breathlessness, you would certainly spot someone they knew
+quite near, one of the young fellows of the neighborhood. This would
+make them dawdle along languidly, whispering and laughing among
+themselves, but keeping a sharp watch through their downcast eyelids.
+
+They went on these strolls of a Sunday mainly for the sake of these
+chance meetings. Tall lads, wearing their Sunday best, would stop them,
+joking and trying to catch them round their waists. Pauline was
+forever running into one of Madame Gaudron's sons, a seventeen-year-old
+carpenter, who would treat her to fried potatoes. Nana could spot Victor
+Fauconnier, the laundress's son and they would exchange kisses in dark
+corners. It never went farther than that, but they told each other some
+tall tales.
+
+Then when the sun set, the great delight of these young hussies was to
+stop and look at the mountebanks. Conjurors and strong men turned up and
+spread threadbare carpets on the soil of the avenue. Loungers collected
+and a circle formed whilst the mountebank in the centre tried his
+muscles under his faded tights. Nana and Pauline would stand for hours
+in the thickest part of the crowd. Their pretty, fresh frocks would get
+crushed between great-coats and dirty work smocks. In this atmosphere of
+wine and sweat they would laugh gaily, finding amusement in everything,
+blooming naturally like roses growing out of a dunghill. The only thing
+that vexed them was to meet their fathers, especially when the hatter
+had been drinking. So they watched and warned one another.
+
+"Look, Nana," Pauline would suddenly cry out, "here comes father
+Coupeau!"
+
+"Well, he's drunk too. Oh, dear," said Nana, greatly bothered. "I'm
+going to beat it, you know. I don't want him to give me a wallop. Hullo!
+How he stumbles! Good Lord, if he could only break his neck!"
+
+At other times, when Coupeau came straight up to her without giving her
+time to run off, she crouched down, made herself small and muttered:
+"Just you hide me, you others. He's looking for me, and he promised he'd
+knock my head off if he caught me hanging about."
+
+Then when the drunkard had passed them she drew herself up again, and
+all the others followed her with bursts of laughter. He'll find her--he
+will--he won't! It was a true game of hide and seek. One day, however,
+Boche had come after Pauline and caught her by both ears, and Coupeau
+had driven Nana home with kicks.
+
+Nana was now a flower-maker and earned forty sous a day at Titreville's
+place in the Rue du Caire, where she had served as apprentice. The
+Coupeaus had kept her there so that she might remain under the eye of
+Madame Lerat, who had been forewoman in the workroom for ten years. Of
+a morning, when her mother looked at the cuckoo clock, off she went by
+herself, looking very pretty with her shoulders tightly confined in her
+old black dress, which was both too narrow and too short; and Madame
+Lerat had to note the hour of her arrival and tell it to Gervaise. She
+was allowed twenty minutes to go from the Rue de la Goutte-d'Or to the
+Rue du Caire, and it was enough, for these young hussies have the legs
+of racehorses. Sometimes she arrived exactly on time but so breathless
+and flushed that she must have covered most of the distance at a run
+after dawdling along the way. More often she was a few minutes late.
+Then she would fawn on her aunt all day, hoping to soften her and keep
+her from telling. Madame Lerat understood what it was to be young and
+would lie to the Coupeaus, but she also lectured Nana, stressing the
+dangers a young girl runs on the streets of Paris. _Mon Dieu!_ she
+herself was followed often enough!
+
+"Oh! I watch, you needn't fear," said the widow to the Coupeaus. "I
+will answer to you for her as I would for myself. And rather than let a
+blackguard squeeze her, why I'd step between them."
+
+The workroom at Titreville's was a large apartment on the first floor,
+with a broad work-table standing on trestles in the centre. Round the
+four walls, the plaster of which was visible in parts where the dirty
+yellowish-grey paper was torn away, there were several stands covered
+with old cardboard boxes, parcels and discarded patterns under a thick
+coating of dust. The gas had left what appeared to be like a daub of
+soot on the ceiling. The two windows opened so wide that without leaving
+the work-table the girls could see the people walking past on the
+pavement over the way.
+
+Madame Lerat arrived the first, in view of setting an example. Then for
+a quarter of an hour the door swayed to and fro, and all the workgirls
+scrambled in, perspiring with tumbled hair. One July morning Nana
+arrived the last, as very often happened. "Ah, me!" she said, "it won't
+be a pity when I have a carriage of my own." And without even taking
+off her hat, one which she was weary of patching up, she approached the
+window and leant out, looking to the right and the left to see what was
+going on in the street.
+
+"What are you looking at?" asked Madame Lerat, suspiciously. "Did your
+father come with you?"
+
+"No, you may be sure of that," answered Nana coolly. "I'm looking at
+nothing--I'm seeing how hot it is. It's enough to make anyone, having to
+run like that."
+
+It was a stifling hot morning. The workgirls had drawn down the Venetian
+blinds, between which they could spy out into the street; and they had
+at last begun working on either side of the table, at the upper end of
+which sat Madame Lerat. They were eight in number, each with her pot
+of glue, pincers, tools and curling stand in front of her. On the
+work-table lay a mass of wire, reels, cotton wool, green and brown
+paper, leaves and petals cut out of silk, satin or velvet. In the
+centre, in the neck of a large decanter, one flower-girl had thrust a
+little penny nosegay which had been fading on her breast since the day
+before.
+
+"Oh, I have some news," said a pretty brunette named Leonie as she
+leaned over her cushion to crimp some rose petals. "Poor Caroline is
+very unhappy about that fellow who used to wait for her every evening."
+
+"Ah!" said Nana, who was cutting thin strips of green paper. "A man who
+cheats on her every day!"
+
+Madame Lerat had to display severity over the muffled laughter. Then
+Leonie whispered suddenly:
+
+"Quiet. The boss!"
+
+It was indeed Madame Titreville who entered. The tall thin woman usually
+stayed down in the shop. The girls were quite in awe of her because
+she never joked with them. All the heads were now bent over the work in
+diligent silence. Madame Titreville slowly circled the work-table. She
+told one girl her work was sloppy and made her do the flower over. Then
+she stalked out as stiffly as she had come in.
+
+The complaining and low laughter began again.
+
+"Really, young ladies!" said Madame Lerat, trying to look more severe
+than ever. "You will force me to take measures."
+
+The workgirls paid no attention to her. They were not afraid of her. She
+was too easy-going because she enjoyed being surrounded by these young
+girls whose zest for life sparkled in their eyes. She enjoyed taking
+them aside to hear their confidences about their lovers. She even told
+their fortunes with cards whenever a corner of the work-table was free.
+She was only offended by coarse expressions. As long as you avoided
+those you could say what you pleased.
+
+To tell the truth, Nana perfected her education in nice style in the
+workroom! No doubt she was already inclined to go wrong. But this was
+the finishing stroke--associating with a lot of girls who were already
+worn out with misery and vice. They all hobnobbed and rotted together,
+just the story of the baskets of apples when there are rotten ones among
+them. They maintained a certain propriety in public, but the smut flowed
+freely when they got to whispering together in a corner.
+
+For inexperienced girls like Nana, there was an undesirable atmosphere
+around the workshop, an air of cheap dance halls and unorthodox evenings
+brought in by some of the girls. The laziness of mornings after a gay
+night, the shadows under the eyes, the lounging, the hoarse voices, all
+spread an odor of dark perversion over the work-table which contrasted
+sharply with the brilliant fragility of the artificial flowers. Nana
+eagerly drank it all in and was dizzy with joy when she found herself
+beside a girl who had been around. She always wanted to sit next to big
+Lisa, who was said to be pregnant, and she kept glancing curiously at
+her neighbor as though expecting her to swell up suddenly.
+
+"It's hot enough to make one stifle," Nana said, approaching a window
+as if to draw the blind farther down; but she leant forward and again
+looked out both to the right and left.
+
+At the same moment Leonie, who was watching a man stationed at the foot
+of the pavement over the way, exclaimed, "What's that old fellow about?
+He's been spying here for the last quarter of an hour."
+
+"Some tom cat," said Madame Lerat. "Nana, just come and sit down! I told
+you not to stand at the window."
+
+Nana took up the stems of some violets she was rolling, and the
+whole workroom turned its attention to the man in question. He was a
+well-dressed individual wearing a frock coat and he looked about fifty
+years old. He had a pale face, very serous and dignified in expression,
+framed round with a well trimmed grey beard. He remained for an hour in
+front of a herbalist's shop with his eyes fixed on the Venetian blinds
+of the workroom. The flower-girls indulged in little bursts of laughter
+which died away amid the noise of the street, and while leaning forward,
+to all appearance busy with their work, they glanced askance so as not
+to lose sight of the gentleman.
+
+"Ah!" remarked Leonie, "he wears glasses. He's a swell. He's waiting for
+Augustine, no doubt."
+
+But Augustine, a tall, ugly, fair-haired girl, sourly answered that she
+did not like old men; whereupon Madame Lerat, jerking her head, answered
+with a smile full of underhand meaning:
+
+"That is a great mistake on your part, my dear; the old ones are more
+affectionate."
+
+At this moment Leonie's neighbor, a plump little body, whispered
+something in her ear and Leonie suddenly threw herself back on her
+chair, seized with a fit of noisy laughter, wriggling, looking at the
+gentleman and then laughing all the louder. "That's it. Oh! that's it,"
+she stammered. "How dirty that Sophie is!"
+
+"What did she say? What did she say?" asked the whole workroom, aglow
+with curiosity.
+
+Leonie wiped the tears from her eyes without answering. When she became
+somewhat calmer, she began curling her flowers again and declared, "It
+can't be repeated."
+
+The others insisted, but she shook her head, seized again with a gust
+of gaiety. Thereupon Augustine, her left-hand neighbor, besought her to
+whisper it to her; and finally Leonie consented to do so with her lips
+close to Augustine's ear. Augustine threw herself back and wriggled with
+convulsive laughter in her turn. Then she repeated the phrase to a
+girl next to her, and from ear to ear it traveled round the room amid
+exclamations and stifled laughter. When they were all of them acquainted
+with Sophie's disgusting remark they looked at one another and burst out
+laughing together although a little flushed and confused. Madame Lerat
+alone was not in the secret and she felt extremely vexed.
+
+"That's very impolite behavior on your part, young ladies," said she.
+"It is not right to whisper when other people are present. Something
+indecent no doubt! Ah! that's becoming!"
+
+She did not dare go so far as to ask them to pass Sophie's remark on to
+her although she burned to hear it. So she kept her eyes on her work,
+amusing herself by listening to the conversation. Now no one could
+make even an innocent remark without the others twisting it around and
+connecting it with the gentleman on the sidewalk. Madame Lerat herself
+once sent them into convulsions of laughter when she said, "Mademoiselle
+Lisa, my fire's gone out. Pass me yours."
+
+"Oh! Madame Lerat's fire's out!" laughed the whole shop.
+
+They refused to listen to any explanation, but maintained they were
+going to call in the gentleman outside to rekindle Madame Lerat's fire.
+
+However, the gentleman over the way had gone off. The room grew calmer
+and the work was carried on in the sultry heat. When twelve o'clock
+struck--meal-time--they all shook themselves. Nana, who had hastened
+to the window again, volunteered to do the errands if they liked. And
+Leonie ordered two sous worth of shrimps, Augustine a screw of fried
+potatoes, Lisa a bunch of radishes, Sophie a sausage. Then as Nana was
+doing down the stairs, Madame Lerat, who found her partiality for the
+window that morning rather curious, overtook her with her long legs.
+
+"Wait a bit," said she. "I'll go with you. I want to buy something too."
+
+But in the passage below she perceived the gentleman, stuck there like
+a candle and exchanging glances with Nana. The girl flushed very red,
+whereupon her aunt at once caught her by the arm and made her trot over
+the pavement, whilst the individual followed behind. Ah! so the tom cat
+had come for Nana. Well, that _was_ nice! At fifteen years and a half to
+have men trailing after her! Then Madame Lerat hastily began to question
+her. _Mon Dieu!_ Nana didn't know; he had only been following her
+for five days, but she could not poke her nose out of doors without
+stumbling on men. She believed he was in business; yes, a manufacturer
+of bone buttons. Madame Lerat was greatly impressed. She turned round
+and glanced at the gentleman out of the corner of her eye.
+
+"One can see he's got a deep purse," she muttered. "Listen to me,
+kitten; you must tell me everything. You have nothing more to fear now."
+
+Whilst speaking they hastened from shop to shop--to the pork butcher's,
+the fruiterer's, the cook-shop; and the errands in greasy paper were
+piled up in their hands. Still they remained amiable, flouncing along
+and casting bright glances behind them with gusts of gay laughter.
+Madame Lerat herself was acting the young girl, on account of the button
+manufacturer who was still following them.
+
+"He is very distinguished looking," she declared as they returned into
+the passage. "If he only has honorable views--"
+
+Then, as they were going up the stairs she suddenly seemed to remember
+something. "By the way, tell me what the girls were whispering to each
+other--you know, what Sophie said?"
+
+Nana did not make any ceremony. Only she caught Madame Lerat by the
+hand, and caused her to descend a couple of steps, for, really, it
+wouldn't do to say it aloud, not even on the stairs. When she whispered
+it to her, it was so obscene that Madame Lerat could only shake her
+head, opening her eyes wide, and pursing her lips. Well, at least her
+curiosity wasn't troubling her any longer.
+
+From that day forth Madame Lerat regaled herself with her niece's first
+love adventure. She no longer left her, but accompanied her morning and
+evening, bringing her responsibility well to the fore. This somewhat
+annoyed Nana, but all the same she expanded with pride at seeing herself
+guarded like a treasure; and the talk she and her aunt indulged in in
+the street with the button manufacturer behind them flattered her, and
+rather quickened her desire for new flirtations. Oh! her aunt
+understood the feelings of the heart; she even compassionated the button
+manufacturer, this elderly gentleman, who looked so respectable, for,
+after all, sentimental feelings are more deeply rooted among people of a
+certain age. Still she watched. And, yes, he would have to pass over her
+body before stealing her niece.
+
+One evening she approached the gentleman, and told him, as straight as
+a bullet, that his conduct was most improper. He bowed to her politely
+without answering, like an old satyr who was accustomed to hear parents
+tell him to go about his business. She really could not be cross with
+him, he was too well mannered.
+
+Then came lectures on love, allusions to dirty blackguards of men, and
+all sorts of stories about hussies who had repented of flirtations,
+which left Nana in a state of pouting, with eyes gleaming brightly in
+her pale face.
+
+One day, however, in the Rue du Faubourg-Poissonniere the button
+manufacturer ventured to poke his nose between the aunt and the niece to
+whisper some things which ought not to have been said. Thereupon Madame
+Lerat was so frightened that she declared she no longer felt able to
+handle the matter and she told the whole business to her brother. Then
+came another row. There were some pretty rumpuses in the Coupeaus' room.
+To begin with, the zinc-worker gave Nana a hiding. What was that he
+learnt? The hussy was flirting with old men. All right. Only let her
+be caught philandering out of doors again, she'd be done for; he, her
+father, would cut off her head in a jiffy. Had the like ever been seen
+before! A dirty nose who thought of beggaring her family! Thereupon he
+shook her, declaring in God's name that she'd have to walk straight,
+for he'd watch her himself in future. He now looked her over every night
+when she came in, even going so far as to sniff at her and make her turn
+round before him.
+
+One evening she got another hiding because he discovered a mark on her
+neck that he maintained was the mark of a kiss. Nana insisted it was
+a bruise that Leonie had given her when they were having a bit of a
+rough-house. Yet at other times her father would tease her, saying she
+was certainly a choice morsel for men. Nana began to display the sullen
+submissiveness of a trapped animal. She was raging inside.
+
+"Why don't you leave her alone?" repeated Gervaise, who was more
+reasonable. "You will end by making her wish to do it by talking to her
+about it so much."
+
+Ah! yes, indeed, she did wish to do it. She itched all over, longing to
+break loose and gad all the time, as father Coupeau said. He insisted so
+much on the subject that even an honest girl would have fired up. Even
+when he was abusing her, he taught her a few things she did not know as
+yet, which, to say the least was astonishing. Then, little by little she
+acquired some singular habits. One morning he noticed her rummaging in
+a paper bag and rubbing something on her face. It was rice powder, which
+she plastered on her delicate satin-like skin with perverse taste. He
+caught up the paper bag and rubbed it over her face violently enough to
+graze her skin and called her a miller's daughter. On another occasion
+she brought some ribbon home, to do up her old black hat which she was
+so ashamed of. He asked her in a furious voice where she had got those
+ribbons from. Had she earned them by lying on her back or had she bagged
+them somewhere? A hussy or a thief, and perhaps both by now?
+
+More than once he found her with some pretty little doodad. She had
+found a little interlaced heart in the street on Rue d'Aboukir. Her
+father crushed the heart under his foot, driving her to the verge of
+throwing herself at him to ruin something of his. For two years she had
+been longing for one of those hearts, and now he had smashed it! This
+was too much, she was reaching the end of the line with him.
+
+Coupeau was often in the wrong in the manner in which he tried to rule
+Nana. His injustice exasperated her. She at last left off attending the
+workshop and when the zinc-worker gave her a hiding, she declared she
+would not return to Titreville's again, for she was always placed next
+to Augustine, who must have swallowed her feet to have such a foul
+breath. Then Coupeau took her himself to the Rue du Caire and requested
+the mistress of the establishment to place her always next to Augustine,
+by way of punishment. Every morning for a fortnight he took the trouble
+to come down from the Barriere Poissonniere to escort Nana to the door
+of the flower shop. And he remained for five minutes on the footway, to
+make sure that she had gone in. But one morning while he was drinking a
+glass with a friend in a wineshop in the Rue Saint-Denis, he perceived
+the hussy darting down the street. For a fortnight she had been
+deceiving him; instead of going into the workroom, she climbed a story
+higher, and sat down on the stairs, waiting till he had gone off. When
+Coupeau began casting the blame on Madame Lerat, the latter flatly
+replied that she would not accept it. She had told her niece all she
+ought to tell her, to keep her on her guard against men, and it was not
+her fault if the girl still had a liking for the nasty beasts. Now, she
+washed her hands of the whole business; she swore she would not mix
+up in it, for she knew what she knew about scandalmongers in her own
+family, yes, certain persons who had the nerve to accuse her of going
+astray with Nana and finding an indecent pleasure in watching her take
+her first misstep. Then Coupeau found out from the proprietress that
+Nana was being corrupted by that little floozie Leonie, who had given up
+flower-making to go on the street. Nana was being tempted by the jingle
+of cash and the lure of adventure on the streets.
+
+In the tenement in the Rue de la Goutte-d'Or, Nana's old fellow was
+talked about as a gentleman everyone was acquainted with. Oh! he
+remained very polite, even a little timid, but awfully obstinate
+and patient, following her ten paces behind like an obedient poodle.
+Sometimes, indeed, he ventured into the courtyard. One evening,
+Madame Gaudron met him on the second floor landing, and he glided down
+alongside the balusters with his nose lowered and looking as if on fire,
+but frightened. The Lorilleuxs threatened to move out if that wayward
+niece of theirs brought men trailing in after her. It was disgusting.
+The staircase was full of them. The Boches said that they felt sympathy
+for the old gentleman because he had fallen for a tramp. He was really
+a respectable businessman, they had seen his button factory on the
+Boulevard de la Villette. He would be an excellent catch for a decent
+girl.
+
+For the first month Nana was greatly amused with her old flirt. You
+should have seen him always dogging her--a perfect great nuisance, who
+followed far behind, in the crowd, without seeming to do so. And his
+legs! Regular lucifers. No more moss on his pate, only four straight
+hairs falling on his neck, so that she was always tempted to ask him
+where his hairdresser lived. Ah! what an old gaffer, he was comical and
+no mistake, nothing to get excited over.
+
+Then, on finding him always behind her, she no longer thought him so
+funny. She became afraid of him and would have called out if he had
+approached her. Often, when she stopped in front of a jeweler's shop,
+she heard him stammering something behind her. And what he said was
+true; she would have liked to have had a cross with a velvet neck-band,
+or a pair of coral earrings, so small you would have thought they were
+drops of blood.
+
+More and more, as she plodded through the mire of the streets, getting
+splashed by passing vehicles and being dazzled by the magnificence of
+the window displays, she felt longings that tortured her like hunger
+pangs, yearnings for better clothes, for eating in restaurants, for
+going to the theatre, for a room of her own with nice furniture. Right
+at those moments, it never failed that her old gentleman would come up
+to whisper something in her ear. Oh, if only she wasn't afraid of him,
+how readily she would have taken up with him.
+
+When the winter arrived, life became impossible at home. Nana had her
+hiding every night. When her father was tired of beating her, her mother
+smacked her to teach her how to behave. And there were free-for-alls; as
+soon as one of them began to beat her, the other took her part, so that
+all three of them ended by rolling on the floor in the midst of the
+broken crockery. And with all this, there were short rations and they
+shivered with cold. Whenever the girl bought anything pretty, a bow or
+a pair of buttons, her parents confiscated the purchase and drank
+what they could get for it. She had nothing of her own, excepting her
+allowance of blows, before coiling herself up between the rags of
+a sheet, where she shivered under her little black skirt, which she
+stretched out by way of a blanket. No, that cursed life could not
+continue; she was not going to leave her skin in it. Her father had long
+since ceased to count for her; when a father gets drunk like hers did,
+he isn't a father, but a dirty beast one longs to be rid of. And now,
+too, her mother was doing down the hill in her esteem. She drank as
+well. She liked to go and fetch her husband at Pere Colombe's, so as to
+be treated; and she willingly sat down, with none of the air of disgust
+that she had assumed on the first occasion, draining glasses indeed at
+one gulp, dragging her elbows over the table for hours and leaving the
+place with her eyes starting out of her head.
+
+When Nana passed in front of l'Assommoir and saw her mother inside, with
+her nose in her glass, fuddled in the midst of the disputing men,
+she was seized with anger; for youth which has other dainty thoughts
+uppermost does not understand drink. On these evenings it was a pretty
+sight. Father drunk, mother drunk, a hell of a home that stunk with
+liquor, and where there was no bread. To tell the truth, a saint would
+not have stayed in the place. So much the worse if she flew the coop one
+of these days; her parents would have to say their _mea culpa_, and own
+that they had driven her out themselves.
+
+One Saturday when Nana came home she found her father and her mother
+in a lamentable condition. Coupeau, who had fallen across the bed was
+snoring. Gervaise, crouching on a chair was swaying her head, with her
+eyes vaguely and threateningly staring into vacancy. She had forgotten
+to warm the dinner, the remains of a stew. A tallow dip which she
+neglected to snuff revealed the shameful misery of their hovel.
+
+"It's you, shrimp?" stammered Gervaise. "Ah, well, your father will take
+care of you."
+
+Nana did not answer, but remained pale, looking at the cold stove, the
+table on which no plates were laid, the lugubrious hovel which this pair
+of drunkards invested with the pale horror of their callousness. She
+did not take off her hat but walked round the room; then with her teeth
+tightly set, she opened the door and went out.
+
+"You are doing down again?" asked her mother, who was unable even to
+turn her head.
+
+"Yes; I've forgotten something. I shall come up again. Good evening."
+
+And she did not return. On the morrow when the Coupeaus were sobered
+they fought together, reproaching each other with being the cause
+of Nana's flight. Ah! she was far away if she were running still! As
+children are told of sparrows, her parents might set a pinch of salt on
+her tail, and then perhaps they would catch her. It was a great blow,
+and crushed Gervaise, for despite the impairment of her faculties, she
+realized perfectly well that her daughter's misconduct lowered her
+still more; she was alone now, with no child to think about, able to
+let herself sink as low as she could fall. She drank steadily for three
+days. Coupeau prowled along the exterior Boulevards without seeing Nana
+and then came home to smoke his pipe peacefully. He was always back in
+time for his soup.
+
+In this tenement, where girls flew off every month like canaries whose
+cages are left open, no one was astonished to hear of the Coupeaus'
+mishap. But the Lorilleuxs were triumphant. Ah! they had predicted that
+the girl would reward her parents in this fashion. It was deserved; all
+artificial flower-girls went that way. The Boches and the Poissons also
+sneered with an extraordinary display and outlay of grief. Lantier alone
+covertly defended Nana. _Mon Dieu!_ said he, with his puritanical air,
+no doubt a girl who so left her home did offend her parents; but, with
+a gleam in the corner of his eyes, he added that, dash it! the girl was,
+after all, too pretty to lead such a life of misery at her age.
+
+"Do you know," cried Madame Lorilleux, one day in the Boches' room,
+where the party were taking coffee; "well, as sure as daylight,
+Clump-clump sold her daughter. Yes she sold her, and I have proof of it!
+That old fellow, who was always on the stairs morning and night, went up
+to pay something on account. It stares one in the face. They were seen
+together at the Ambigu Theatre--the young wench and her old tom cat.
+Upon my word of honor, they're living together, it's quite plain."
+
+They discussed the scandal thoroughly while finishing their coffee.
+Yes, it was quite possible. Soon most of the neighborhood accepted the
+conclusion that Gervaise had actually sold her daughter.
+
+Gervaise now shuffled along in her slippers, without caring a rap for
+anyone. You might have called her a thief in the street, she wouldn't
+have turned round. For a month past she hadn't looked at Madame
+Fauconnier's; the latter had had to turn her out of the place to avoid
+disputes. In a few weeks' time she had successively entered the service
+of eight washerwomen; she only lasted two or three days in each place
+before she got the sack, so badly did she iron the things entrusted to
+her, careless and dirty, her mind failing to such a point that she quite
+forgot her own craft. At last realizing her own incapacity she abandoned
+ironing; and went out washing by the day at the wash-house in the
+Rue Neuve, where she still jogged on, floundering about in the water,
+fighting with filth, reduced to the roughest but simplest work, a bit
+lower on the down-hill slopes. The wash-house scarcely beautified her.
+A real mud-splashed dog when she came out of it, soaked and showing her
+blue skin. At the same time she grew stouter and stouter, despite
+her frequent dances before the empty sideboard, and her leg became so
+crooked that she could no longer walk beside anyone without the risk of
+knocking him over, so great indeed was her limp.
+
+Naturally enough when a woman falls to this point all her pride leaves
+her. Gervaise had divested herself of all her old self-respect, coquetry
+and need of sentiment, propriety and politeness. You might have kicked
+her, no matter where, she did not feel kicks for she had become too fat
+and flabby. Lantier had altogether neglected her; he no longer escorted
+her or even bothered to give her a pinch now and again. She did not seem
+to notice this finish of a long liaison slowly spun out, and ending
+in mutual insolence. It was a chore the less for her. Even Lantier's
+intimacy with Virginie left her quite calm, so great was her
+indifference now for all that she had been so upset about in the past.
+She would even have held a candle for them now.
+
+Everyone was aware that Virginie and Lantier were carrying on. It was
+much too convenient, especially with Poisson on duty every other night.
+Lantier had thought of himself when he advised Virginie to deal in
+dainties. He was too much of a Provincial not to adore sugared things;
+and in fact he would have lived off sugar candy, lozenges, pastilles,
+sugar plums and chocolate. Sugared almonds especially left a little
+froth on his lips so keenly did they tickle his palate. For a year he
+had been living only on sweetmeats. He opened the drawers and stuffed
+himself whenever Virginie asked him to mind the shop. Often, when he was
+talking in the presence of five or six other people, he would take the
+lid off a jar on the counter, dip his hand into it and begin to nibble
+at something sweet; the glass jar remained open and its contents
+diminished. People ceased paying attention to it, it was a mania of
+his so he had declared. Besides, he had devised a perpetual cold, an
+irritation of the throat, which he always talked of calming.
+
+He still did not work, for he had more and more important schemes than
+ever in view. He was contriving a superb invention--the umbrella hat, a
+hat which transformed itself into an umbrella on your head as soon as
+a shower commenced to fall; and he promised Poisson half shares in the
+profit of it, and even borrowed twenty franc pieces of him to defray the
+cost of experiments. Meanwhile the shop melted away on his tongue. All
+the stock-in-trade followed suit down to the chocolate cigars and pipes
+in pink caramel. Whenever he was stuffed with sweetmeats and seized with
+a fit of tenderness, he paid himself with a last lick on the groceress
+in a corner, who found him all sugar with lips which tasted like burnt
+almonds. Such a delightful man to kiss! He was positively becoming all
+honey. The Boches said he merely had to dip a finger into his coffee to
+sweeten it.
+
+Softened by this perpetual dessert, Lantier showed himself paternal
+towards Gervaise. He gave her advice and scolded her because she no
+longer liked to work. Indeed! A woman of her age ought to know how to
+turn herself round. And he accused her of having always been a glutton.
+Nevertheless, as one ought to hold out a helping hand, even to folks
+who don't deserve it, he tried to find her a little work. Thus he had
+prevailed upon Virginie to let Gervaise come once a week to scrub the
+shop and the rooms. That was the sort of thing she understood and
+on each occasion she earned her thirty sous. Gervaise arrived on the
+Saturday morning with a pail and a scrubbing brush, without seeming
+to suffer in the least at having to perform a dirty, humble duty, a
+charwoman's work in the dwelling-place where she had reigned as the
+beautiful fair-haired mistress. It was a last humiliation, the end of
+her pride.
+
+One Saturday she had a hard job of it. It had rained for three days and
+the customers seemed to have brought all the mud of the neighborhood
+into the shop on the soles of their boots. Virginie was at the counter
+doing the grand, with her hair well combed, and wearing a little white
+collar and a pair of lace cuffs. Beside her, on the narrow seat covered
+with red oil-cloth, Lantier did the dandy, looking for the world as if
+he were at home, as if he were the real master of the place, and from
+time to time he carelessly dipped his hand into a jar of peppermint
+drops, just to nibble something sweet according to his habit.
+
+"Look here, Madame Coupeau!" cried Virginie, who was watching the
+scrubbing with compressed lips, "you have left some dirt over there in
+the corner. Scrub that rather better please."
+
+Gervaise obeyed. She returned to the corner and began to scrub again.
+She bent double on her knees in the midst of the dirty water, with
+her shoulders protruding, her arms stiff and purple with cold. Her old
+skirt, fairly soaked, stuck to her figure. And there on the floor she
+looked a dirty, ill-combed drab, the rents in her jacket showing her
+puffy form, her fat, flabby flesh which heaved, swayed and floundered
+about as she went about her work; and all the while she perspired to
+such a point that from her moist face big drops of sweat fell on to the
+floor.
+
+"The more elbow grease one uses, the more it shines," said Lantier,
+sententiously, with his mouth full of peppermint drops.
+
+Virginie, who sat back with the demeanor of a princess, her eyes partly
+open, was still watching the scrubbing, and indulging in remarks. "A
+little more on the right there. Take care of the wainscot. You know I
+was not very well pleased last Saturday. There were some stains left."
+
+And both together, the hatter and the groceress assumed a more important
+air, as if they had been on a throne whilst Gervaise dragged herself
+through the black mud at their feet. Virginie must have enjoyed herself,
+for a yellowish flame darted from her cat's eyes, and she looked at
+Lantier with an insidious smile. At last she was revenged for that
+hiding she had received at the wash-house, and which she had never
+forgotten.
+
+Whenever Gervaise ceased scrubbing, a sound of sawing could be heard
+from the back room. Through the open doorway, Poisson's profile stood
+out against the pale light of the courtyard. He was off duty that day
+and was profiting by his leisure time to indulge in his mania for making
+little boxes. He was seated at a table and was cutting out arabesques in
+a cigar box with extraordinary care.
+
+"Say, Badingue!" cried Lantier, who had given him this surname again,
+out of friendship. "I shall want that box of yours as a present for a
+young lady."
+
+Virginie gave him a pinch and he reached under the counter to run his
+fingers like a creeping mouse up her leg.
+
+"Quite so," said the policeman. "I was working for you, Auguste, in view
+of presenting you with a token of friendship."
+
+"Ah, if that's the case, I'll keep your little memento!" rejoined
+Lantier with a laugh. "I'll hang it round my neck with a ribbon."
+
+Then suddenly, as if this thought brought another one to his memory, "By
+the way," he cried, "I met Nana last night."
+
+This news caused Gervaise such emotion that she sunk down in the dirty
+water which covered the floor of the shop.
+
+"Ah!" she muttered speechlessly.
+
+"Yes; as I was going down the Rue des Martyrs, I caught sight of a
+girl who was on the arm of an old fellow in front of me, and I said to
+myself: I know that shape. I stepped faster and sure enough found myself
+face to face with Nana. There's no need to pity her, she looked very
+happy, with her pretty woolen dress on her back, a gold cross and an
+awfully pert expression."
+
+"Ah!" repeated Gervaise in a husky voice.
+
+Lantier, who had finished the pastilles, took some barley-sugar out of
+another jar.
+
+"She's sneaky," he resumed. "She made a sign to me to follow her,
+with wonderful composure. Then she left her old fellow somewhere in a
+cafe--oh a wonderful chap, the old bloke, quite used up!--and she came
+and joined me under the doorway. A pretty little serpent, pretty, and
+doing the grand, and fawning on you like a little dog. Yes, she kissed
+me, and wanted to have news of everyone--I was very pleased to meet
+her."
+
+"Ah!" said Gervaise for the third time. She drew herself together,
+and still waited. Hadn't her daughter had a word for her then? In the
+silence Poisson's saw could be heard again. Lantier, who felt gay, was
+sucking his barley-sugar, and smacking his lips.
+
+"Well, if _I_ saw her, I should go over to the other side of the
+street," interposed Virginie, who had just pinched the hatter again most
+ferociously. "It isn't because you are there, Madame Coupeau, but your
+daughter is rotten to the core. Why, every day Poisson arrests girls who
+are better than she is."
+
+Gervaise said nothing, nor did she move; her eyes staring into space.
+She ended by jerking her head to and fro, as if in answer to her
+thoughts, whilst the hatter, with a gluttonous mien, muttered:
+
+"Ah, a man wouldn't mind getting a bit of indigestion from that sort of
+rottenness. It's as tender as chicken."
+
+But the grocer gave him such a terrible look that he had to pause and
+quiet her with some delicate attention. He watched the policeman, and
+perceiving that he had his nose lowered over his little box again, he
+profited of the opportunity to shove some barley-sugar into Virginie's
+mouth. Thereupon she laughed at him good-naturedly and turned all her
+anger against Gervaise.
+
+"Just make haste, eh? The work doesn't do itself while you remain stuck
+there like a street post. Come, look alive, I don't want to flounder
+about in the water till night time."
+
+And she added hatefully in a lower tone: "It isn't my fault if her
+daughter's gone and left her."
+
+No doubt Gervaise did not hear. She had begun to scrub the floor again,
+with her back bent and dragging herself along with a frog-like motion.
+She still had to sweep the dirty water out into the gutter, and then do
+the final rinsing.
+
+After a pause, Lantier, who felt bored, raised his voice again: "Do
+you know, Badingue," he cried, "I met your boss yesterday in the Rue de
+Rivoli. He looked awfully down in the mouth. He hasn't six months' life
+left in his body. Ah! after all, with the life he leads--"
+
+He was talking about the Emperor. The policeman did not raise his eyes,
+but curtly answered: "If you were the Government you wouldn't be so
+fat."
+
+"Oh, my dear fellow, if I were the Government," rejoined the hatter,
+suddenly affecting an air of gravity, "things would go on rather better,
+I give you my word for it. Thus, their foreign policy--why, for some
+time past it has been enough to make a fellow sweat. If I--I who speak
+to you--only knew a journalist to inspire him with my ideas."
+
+He was growing animated, and as he had finished crunching his
+barley-sugar, he opened a drawer from which he took a number of jujubes,
+which he swallowed while gesticulating.
+
+"It's quite simple. Before anything else, I should give Poland her
+independence again, and I should establish a great Scandinavian state to
+keep the Giant of the North at bay. Then I should make a republic out
+of all the little German states. As for England, she's scarcely to be
+feared; if she budged ever so little I should send a hundred thousand
+men to India. Add to that I should send the Sultan back to Mecca and the
+Pope to Jerusalem, belaboring their backs with the butt end of a rifle.
+Eh? Europe would soon be clean. Come, Badingue, just look here."
+
+He paused to take five or six jujubes in his hand. "Why, it wouldn't
+take longer than to swallow these."
+
+And he threw one jujube after another into his open mouth.
+
+"The Emperor has another plan," said the policeman, after reflecting for
+a couple of minutes.
+
+"Oh, forget it," rejoined the hatter. "We know what his plan is. All
+Europe is laughing at us. Every day the Tuileries footmen find your boss
+under the table between a couple of high society floozies."
+
+Poisson rose to his feet. He came forward and placed his hand on
+his heart, saying: "You hurt me, Auguste. Discuss, but don't involve
+personalities."
+
+Thereupon Virginie intervened, bidding them stop their row. She didn't
+care a fig for Europe. How could two men, who shared everything else,
+always be disputing about politics? For a minute they mumbled some
+indistinct words. Then the policeman, in view of showing that he
+harbored no spite, produced the cover of his little box, which he had
+just finished; it bore the inscription in marquetry: "To Auguste, a
+token of friendship." Lantier, feeling exceedingly flattered, lounged
+back and spread himself out so that he almost sat upon Virginie. And the
+husband viewed the scene with his face the color of an old wall and his
+bleared eyes fairly expressionless; but all the same, at moments the red
+hairs of his moustaches stood up on end of their own accord in a very
+singular fashion, which would have alarmed any man who was less sure of
+his business than the hatter.
+
+This beast of a Lantier had the quiet cheek which pleases ladies. As
+Poisson turned his back he was seized with the idea of printing a kiss
+on Madame Poisson's left eye. As a rule he was stealthily prudent, but
+when he had been disputing about politics he risked everything, so as to
+show the wife his superiority. These gloating caresses, cheekily stolen
+behind the policeman's back, revenged him on the Empire which had turned
+France into a house of quarrels. Only on this occasion he had forgotten
+Gervaise's presence. She had just finished rinsing and wiping the shop,
+and she stood near the counter waiting for her thirty sous. However, the
+kiss on Virginie's eye left her perfectly calm, as being quite natural,
+and as part of a business she had no right to mix herself up in.
+Virginie seemed rather vexed. She threw the thirty sous on to the
+counter in front of Gervaise. The latter did not budge but stood there
+waiting, still palpitating with the effort she had made in scrubbing,
+and looking as soaked and as ugly as a dog fished out of the sewer.
+
+"Then she didn't tell you anything?" she asked the hatter at last.
+
+"Who?" he cried. "Ah, yes; you mean Nana. No, nothing else. What a
+tempting mouth she has, the little hussy! Real strawberry jam!"
+
+Gervaise went off with her thirty sous in her hand. The holes in her
+shoes spat water forth like pumps; they were real musical shoes, and
+played a tune as they left moist traces of their broad soles along the
+pavement.
+
+In the neighborhood the feminine tipplers of her own class now related
+that she drank to console herself for her daughter's misconduct. She
+herself, when she gulped down her dram of spirits on the counter,
+assumed a dramatic air, and tossed the liquor into her mouth, wishing
+it would "do" for her. And on the days when she came home boozed she
+stammered that it was all through grief. But honest folks shrugged
+their shoulders. They knew what that meant: ascribing the effects of the
+peppery fire of l'Assommoir to grief, indeed! At all events, she ought
+to have called it bottled grief. No doubt at the beginning she couldn't
+digest Nana's flight. All the honest feelings remaining in her revolted
+at the thought, and besides, as a rule a mother doesn't like to have
+to think that her daughter, at that very moment, perhaps, is being
+familiarly addressed by the first chance comer. But Gervaise was already
+too stultified with a sick head and a crushed heart, to think of the
+shame for long. With her it came and went. She remained sometimes for
+a week together without thinking of her daughter, and then suddenly a
+tender or an angry feeling seized hold of her, sometimes when she had
+her stomach empty, at others when it was full, a furious longing to
+catch Nana in some corner, where she would perhaps have kissed her or
+perhaps have beaten her, according to the fancy of the moment.
+
+Whenever these thoughts came over her, Gervaise looked on all sides in
+the streets with the eyes of a detective. Ah! if she had only seen her
+little sinner, how quickly she would have brought her home again! The
+neighborhood was being turned topsy-turvy that year. The Boulevard
+Magenta and the Boulevard Ornano were being pierced; they were doing
+away with the old Barriere Poissonniere and cutting right through the
+outer Boulevard. The district could not be recognized. The whole of one
+side of the Rue des Poissonniers had been pulled down. From the Rue de
+la Goutte-d'Or a large clearing could now be seen, a dash of sunlight
+and open air; and in place of the gloomy buildings which had hidden the
+view in this direction there rose up on the Boulevard Ornano a perfect
+monument, a six-storied house, carved all over like a church, with clear
+windows, which, with their embroidered curtains, seemed symbolical
+of wealth. This white house, standing just in front of the street,
+illuminated it with a jet of light, as it were, and every day it caused
+discussions between Lantier and Poisson.
+
+Gervaise had several times had tidings of Nana. There are always ready
+tongues anxious to pay you a sorry compliment. Yes, she had been told
+that the hussy had left her old gentleman, just like the inexperienced
+girl she was. She had gotten along famously with him, petted, adored,
+and free, too, if she had only known how to manage the situation. But
+youth is foolish, and she had no doubt gone off with some young rake, no
+one knew exactly where. What seemed certain was that one afternoon she
+had left her old fellow on the Place de la Bastille, just for half a
+minute, and he was still waiting for her to return. Other persons swore
+they had seen her since, dancing on her heels at the "Grand Hall of
+Folly," in the Rue de la Chapelle. Then it was that Gervaise took it
+into her head to frequent all the dancing places of the neighborhood.
+She did not pass in front of a public ball-room without going in.
+Coupeau accompanied her. At first they merely made the round of the
+room, looking at the drabs who were jumping about. But one evening, as
+they had some coin, they sat down and ordered a large bowl of hot wine
+in view of regaling themselves and waiting to see if Nana would turn up.
+At the end of a month or so they had practically forgotten her, but
+they frequented the halls for their own pleasure, liking to look at the
+dancers. They would remain for hours without exchanging a word, resting
+their elbows on the table, stultified amidst the quaking of the floor,
+and yet no doubt amusing themselves as they stared with pale eyes at the
+Barriere women in the stifling atmosphere and ruddy glow of the hall.
+
+It happened one November evening that they went into the "Grand Hall of
+Folly" to warm themselves. Out of doors a sharp wind cut you across the
+face. But the hall was crammed. There was a thundering big swarm inside;
+people at all the tables, people in the middle, people up above,
+quite an amount of flesh. Yes, those who cared for tripes could enjoy
+themselves. When they had made the round twice without finding a vacant
+table, they decided to remain standing and wait till somebody went off.
+Coupeau was teetering on his legs, in a dirty blouse, with an old
+cloth cap which had lost its peak flattened down on his head. And as
+he blocked the way, he saw a scraggy young fellow who was wiping his
+coat-sleeve after elbowing him.
+
+"Say!" cried Coupeau in a fury, as he took his pipe out of his black
+mouth. "Can't you apologize? And you play the disgusted one? Just
+because a fellow wears a blouse!"
+
+The young man turned round and looked at the zinc-worker from head to
+foot.
+
+"I'll just teach you, you scraggy young scamp," continued Coupeau, "that
+the blouse is the finest garment out; yes! the garment of work. I'll
+wipe you if you like with my fists. Did one ever hear of such a thing--a
+ne'er-do-well insulting a workman!"
+
+Gervaise tried to calm him, but in vain. He drew himself up in his rags,
+in full view, and struck his blouse, roaring: "There's a man's chest
+under that!"
+
+Thereupon the young man dived into the midst of the crowd, muttering:
+"What a dirty blackguard!"
+
+Coupeau wanted to follow and catch him. He wasn't going to let himself
+be insulted by a fellow with a coat on. Probably it wasn't even paid
+for! Some second-hand toggery to impress a girl with, without having to
+fork out a centime. If he caught the chap again, he'd bring him down on
+his knees and make him bow to the blouse. But the crush was too great;
+there was no means of walking. He and Gervaise turned slowly round the
+dancers; there were three rows of sightseers packed close together,
+whose faces lighted up whenever any of the dancers showed off. As
+Coupeau and Gervaise were both short, they raised themselves up on
+tiptoe, trying to see something besides the chignons and hats that
+were bobbing about. The cracked brass instruments of the orchestra were
+furiously thundering a quadrille, a perfect tempest which made the hall
+shake; while the dancers, striking the floor with their feet, raised
+a cloud of dust which dimmed the brightness of the gas. The heat was
+unbearable.
+
+"Look there," said Gervaise suddenly.
+
+"Look at what?"
+
+"Why, at that velvet hat over there."
+
+They raised themselves up on tiptoe. On the left hand there was an old
+black velvet hat trimmed with ragged feathers bobbing about--regular
+hearse's plumes. It was dancing a devil of a dance, this hat--bouncing
+and whirling round, diving down and then springing up again. Coupeau and
+Gervaise lost sight of it as the people round about moved their heads,
+but then suddenly they saw it again, swaying farther off with such droll
+effrontery that folks laughed merely at the sight of this dancing hat,
+without knowing what was underneath it.
+
+"Well?" asked Coupeau.
+
+"Don't you recognize that head of hair?" muttered Gervaise in a stifled
+voice. "May my head be cut off if it isn't her."
+
+With one shove the zinc-worker made his way through the crowd. _Mon
+Dieu!_ yes, it was Nana! And in a nice pickle too! She had nothing on
+her back but an old silk dress, all stained and sticky from having wiped
+the tables of boozing dens, and with its flounces so torn that they fell
+in tatters round about. Not even a bit of a shawl over her shoulders.
+And to think that the hussy had had such an attentive, loving gentleman,
+and had yet fallen to this condition, merely for the sake of following
+some rascal who had beaten her, no doubt! Nevertheless she had remained
+fresh and insolent, with her hair as frizzy as a poodle's, and her mouth
+bright pink under that rascally hat of hers.
+
+"Just wait a bit, I'll make her dance!" resumed Coupeau.
+
+Naturally enough, Nana was not on her guard. You should have seen how
+she wriggled about! She twisted to the right and to the left, bending
+double as if she were going to break herself in two, and kicking her
+feet as high as her partner's face. A circle had formed about her and
+this excited her even more. She raised her skirts to her knees and
+really let herself go in a wild dance, whirling and turning, dropping to
+the floor in splits, and then jigging and bouncing.
+
+Coupeau was trying to force his way through the dancers and was
+disrupting the quadrille.
+
+"I tell you, it's my daughter!" he cried; "let me pass."
+
+Nana was now dancing backwards, sweeping the floor with her flounces,
+rounding her figure and wriggling it, so as to look all the more
+tempting. She suddenly received a masterly blow just on the right cheek.
+She raised herself up and turned quite pale on recognizing her father
+and mother. Bad luck and no mistake.
+
+"Turn him out!" howled the dancers.
+
+But Coupeau, who had just recognized his daughter's cavalier as the
+scraggy young man in the coat, did not care a fig for what the people
+said.
+
+"Yes, it's us," he roared. "Eh? You didn't expect it. So we catch you
+here, and with a whipper-snapper, too, who insulted me a little while
+ago!"
+
+Gervaise, whose teeth were tight set, pushed him aside, exclaiming,
+"Shut up. There's no need of so much explanation."
+
+And, stepping forward, she dealt Nana a couple of hearty cuffs. The
+first knocked the feathered hat on one side, and the second left a red
+mark on the girl's white cheek. Nana was too stupefied either to cry
+or resist. The orchestra continued playing, the crowd grew angry and
+repeated savagely, "Turn them out! Turn them out!"
+
+"Come, make haste!" resumed Gervaise. "Just walk in front, and don't try
+to run off. You shall sleep in prison if you do."
+
+The scraggy young man had prudently disappeared. Nana walked ahead, very
+stiff and still stupefied by her bad luck. Whenever she showed the lest
+unwillingness, a cuff from behind brought her back to the direction of
+the door. And thus they went out, all three of them, amid the jeers
+and banter of the spectators, whilst the orchestra finished playing
+the finale with such thunder that the trombones seemed to be spitting
+bullets.
+
+The old life began again. After sleeping for twelve hours in her closet,
+Nana behaved very well for a week or so. She had patched herself a
+modest little dress, and wore a cap with the strings tied under her
+chignon. Seized indeed with remarkable fervor, she declared she would
+work at home, where one could earn what one liked without hearing any
+nasty work-room talk; and she procured some work and installed herself
+at a table, getting up at five o'clock in the morning on the first few
+days to roll her sprigs of violets. But when she had delivered a few
+gross, she stretched her arms and yawned over her work, with her hands
+cramped, for she had lost her knack of stem-rolling, and suffocated,
+shut up like this at home after allowing herself so much open air
+freedom during the last six months. Then the glue dried, the petals
+and the green paper got stained with grease, and the flower-dealer came
+three times in person to make a row and claim his spoiled materials.
+
+Nana idled along, constantly getting a hiding from her father, and
+wrangling with her mother morning and night--quarrels in which the two
+women flung horrible words at each other's head. It couldn't last; the
+twelfth day she took herself off, with no more luggage than her modest
+dress on her back and her cap perched over one ear. The Lorilleuxs, who
+had pursed their lips on hearing of her return and repentance, nearly
+died of laughter now. Second performance, eclipse number two, all aboard
+for the train for Saint-Lazare, the prison-hospital for streetwalkers!
+No, it was really too comical. Nana took herself off in such an amusing
+style. Well, if the Coupeaus wanted to keep her in the future, they must
+shut her up in a cage.
+
+In the presence of other people the Coupeaus pretended they were
+very glad to be rid of the girl, though in reality they were enraged.
+However, rage can't last forever, and soon they heard without even
+blinking that Nana was seen in the neighborhood. Gervaise, who accused
+her of doing it to enrage them, set herself above the scandal; she might
+meet her daughter on the street, she said; she wouldn't even dirty her
+hand to cuff her; yes, it was all over; she might have seen her lying in
+the gutter, dying on the pavement, and she would have passed by without
+even admitting that such a hussy was her own child.
+
+Nana meanwhile was enlivening the dancing halls of the neighborhood. She
+was known from the "Ball of Queen Blanche" to the "Great Hall of Folly."
+When she entered the "Elysee-Montmartre," folks climbed onto the tables
+to see her do the "sniffling crawfish" during the pastourelle. As
+she had twice been turned out of the "Chateau Rouge" hall, she walked
+outside the door waiting for someone she knew to escort her inside. The
+"Black Ball" on the outer Boulevard and the "Grand Turk" in the Rue des
+Poissonniers, were respectable places where she only went when she
+had some fine dress on. Of all the jumping places of the neighborhood,
+however, those she most preferred were the "Hermitage Ball" in a damp
+courtyard and "Robert's Ball" in the Impasse du Cadran, two dirty little
+halls, lighted up with a half dozen oil lamps, and kept very informally,
+everyone pleased and everyone free, so much so that the men and their
+girls kissed each other at their ease, in the dances, without being
+disturbed. Nana had ups and downs, perfect transformations, now tricked
+out like a stylish woman and now all dirt. Ah! she had a fine life.
+
+On several occasions the Coupeaus fancied they saw her in some shady
+dive. They turned their backs and decamped in another direction so as
+not to be obliged to recognize her. They didn't care to be laughed at
+by a whole dancing hall again for the sake of bringing such a dolt home.
+One night as they were going to bed, however, someone knocked at the
+door. It was Nana who matter-of-factly came to ask for a bed; and in
+what a state. _Mon Dieu!_ her head was bare, her dress in tatters, and
+her boots full of holes--such a toilet as might have led the police to
+run her in, and take her off to the Depot. Naturally enough she received
+a hiding, and then she gluttonously fell on a crust of stale bread and
+went to sleep, worn out, with the last mouthful between her teeth.
+
+Then this sort of life continued. As soon as she was somewhat recovered
+she would go off and not a sight or sound of her. Weeks or months would
+pass and she would suddenly appear with no explanation. The Coupeaus got
+used to these comings and goings. Well, as long as she didn't leave the
+door open. What could you expect?
+
+There was only one thing that really bothered Gervaise. This was to see
+her daughter come home in a dress with a train and a hat covered with
+feathers. No, she couldn't stomach this display. Nana might indulge in
+riotous living if she chose, but when she came home to her mother's she
+ought to dress like a workgirl. The dresses with trains caused quite
+a sensation in the house; the Lorilleuxs sneered; Lantier, whose mouth
+sneered, turned the girl round to sniff at her delicious aroma; the
+Boches had forbidden Pauline to associate with this baggage in her
+frippery. And Gervaise was also angered by Nana's exhausted slumber,
+when after one of her adventures, she slept till noon, with her chignon
+undone and still full of hair pins, looking so white and breathing so
+feebly that she seemed to be dead. Her mother shook her five or six
+times in the course of the morning, threatening to throw a jugful of
+water over her. The sight of this handsome lazy girl, half naked
+and besotted with wine, exasperated her, as she saw her lying there.
+Sometimes Nana opened an eye, closed it again, and then stretched
+herself out all the more.
+
+One day after reproaching her with the life she led and asking her
+if she had taken on an entire battalion of soldiers, Gervaise put her
+threat into execution to the extent of shaking her dripping hand over
+Nana's body. Quite infuriated, the girl pulled herself up in the sheet,
+and cried out:
+
+"That's enough, mamma. It would be better not to talk of men. You did as
+you liked, and now I do the same!"
+
+"What! What!" stammered the mother.
+
+"Yes, I never spoke to you about it, for it didn't concern me; but you
+didn't used to be very fussy. I often saw you when we lived at the
+shop sneaking off as soon as papa started snoring. So just shut up; you
+shouldn't have set me the example."
+
+Gervaise remained pale, with trembling hands, turning round without
+knowing what she was about, whilst Nana, flattened on her breast,
+embraced her pillow with both arms and subsided into the torpor of her
+leaden slumber.
+
+Coupeau growled, no longer sane enough to think of launching out a
+whack. He was altogether losing his mind. And really there was no need
+to call him an unprincipled father, for liquor had deprived him of all
+consciousness of good and evil.
+
+Now it was a settled thing. He wasn't sober once in six months; then he
+was laid up and had to go into the Sainte-Anne hospital; a pleasure trip
+for him. The Lorilleuxs said that the Duke of Bowel-Twister had gone
+to visit his estates. At the end of a few weeks he left the asylum,
+repaired and set together again, and then he began to pull himself to
+bits once more, till he was down on his back and needed another mending.
+In three years he went seven times to Sainte-Anne in this fashion. The
+neighborhood said that his cell was kept ready for him. But the worst of
+the matter was that this obstinate tippler demolished himself more and
+more each time so that from relapse to relapse one could foresee the
+final tumble, the last cracking of this shaky cask, all the hoops of
+which were breaking away, one after the other.
+
+At the same time, he forgot to improve in appearance; a perfect ghost
+to look at! The poison was having terrible effects. By dint of imbibing
+alcohol, his body shrunk up like the embryos displayed in glass jars in
+chemical laboratories. When he approached a window you could see through
+his ribs, so skinny had he become. Those who knew his age, only forty
+years just gone, shuddered when he passed by, bent and unsteady,
+looking as old as the streets themselves. And the trembling of his hands
+increased, the right one danced to such an extent, that sometimes he had
+to take his glass between both fists to carry it to his lips. Oh! that
+cursed trembling! It was the only thing that worried his addled brains.
+You could hear him growling ferocious insults against those hands of
+his.
+
+This last summer, during which Nana usually came home to spend her
+nights, after she had finished knocking about, was especially bad for
+Coupeau. His voice changed entirely as if liquor had set a new music in
+his throat. He became deaf in one ear. Then in a few days his sight grew
+dim, and he had to clutch hold of the stair railings to prevent himself
+from falling. As for his health, he had abominable headaches and
+dizziness. All on a sudden he was seized with acute pains in his arms
+and legs; he turned pale; was obliged to sit down, and remained on a
+chair witless for hours; indeed, after one such attack, his arm remained
+paralyzed for the whole day. He took to his bed several times; he
+rolled himself up and hid himself under the sheet, breathing hard
+and continuously like a suffering animal. Then the strange scenes of
+Sainte-Anne began again. Suspicious and nervous, worried with a burning
+fever, he rolled about in a mad rage, tearing his blouse and biting the
+furniture with his convulsed jaws; or else he sank into a great state of
+emotion, complaining like a child, sobbing and lamenting because nobody
+loved him. One night when Gervaise and Nana returned home together they
+were surprised not to find him in his bed. He had laid the bolster in
+his place. And when they discovered him, hiding between the bed and the
+wall, his teeth were chattering, and he related that some men had come
+to murder him. The two women were obliged to put him to bed again and
+quiet him like a child.
+
+Coupeau knew only one remedy, to toss down a pint of spirits; a whack in
+his stomach, which set him on his feet again. This was how he doctored
+his gripes of a morning. His memory had left him long ago, his brain was
+empty; and he no sooner found himself on his feet than he poked fun
+at illness. He had never been ill. Yes, he had got to the point when
+a fellow kicks the bucket declaring that he's quite well. And his wits
+were going a-wool-gathering in other respects too. When Nana came home
+after gadding about for six weeks or so he seemed to fancy she had
+returned from doing some errand in the neighborhood. Often when she was
+hanging on an acquaintance's arm she met him and laughed at him without
+his recognizing her. In short, he no longer counted for anything; she
+might have sat down on him if she had been at a loss for a chair.
+
+When the first frosts came Nana took herself off once more under the
+pretence of going to the fruiterer's to see if there were any baked
+pears. She scented winter and didn't care to let her teeth chatter in
+front of the fireless stove. The Coupeaus had called her no good because
+they had waited for the pears. No doubt she would come back again. The
+other winter she had stayed away three weeks to fetch her father two
+sous' worth of tobacco. But the months went by and the girl did not show
+herself. This time she must have indulged in a hard gallop. When June
+arrived she did not even turn up with the sunshine. Evidently it was all
+over, she had found a new meal ticket somewhere or other. One day when
+the Coupeaus were totally broke they sold Nana's iron bedstead for six
+francs, which they drank together at Saint-Ouen. The bedstead had been
+in their way.
+
+One morning in July Virginie called to Gervaise, who was passing by, and
+asked her to lend a hand in washing up, for Lantier had entertained a
+couple of friends on the day before. And while Gervaise was cleaning up
+the plates and dishes, greasy with the traces of the spread, the hatter,
+who was still digesting in the shop, suddenly called out:
+
+"Say, I saw Nana the other day."
+
+Virginie, who was seated at the counter looking very careworn in front
+of the jars and drawers which were already three parts emptied, jerked
+her head furiously. She restrained herself so as not to say too much,
+but really it was angering her. Lantier was seeing Nana often. Oh! she
+was by no means sure of him; he was a man to do much worse than that,
+when a fancy for a woman came into his head. Madame Lerat, very intimate
+just then with Virginie, who confided in her, had that moment entered
+the shop, and hearing Lantier's remark, she pouted ridiculously, and
+asked:
+
+"What do you mean, you saw her?"
+
+"Oh, in the street here," answered the hatter, who felt highly
+flattered, and began to laugh and twirl his moustaches. "She was in
+a carriage and I was floundering on the pavement. Really it was so, I
+swear it! There's no use denying it, the young fellows of position who
+are on friendly terms with her are terribly lucky!"
+
+His eyes had brightened and he turned towards Gervaise who was standing
+in the rear of the shop wiping a dish.
+
+"Yes, she was in a carriage, and wore such a stylish dress! I didn't
+recognise her, she looked so much like a lady of the upper set, with her
+white teeth and her face as fresh as a flower. It was she who waved her
+glove to me. She has caught a count, I believe. Oh! she's launched for
+good. She can afford to do without any of us; she's head over heels in
+happiness, the little beggar! What a love of a little kitten! No, you've
+no idea what a little kitten she is!"
+
+Gervaise was still wiping the same plate, although it had long since
+been clean and shiny. Virginie was reflecting, anxious about a couple of
+bills which fell due on the morrow and which she didn't know how to pay;
+whilst Lantier, stout and fat, perspiring the sugar he fed off, ventured
+his enthusiasm for well-dressed little hussies. The shop, which was
+already three parts eaten up, smelt of ruin. Yes, there were only a few
+more burnt almonds to nibble, a little more barley-sugar to suck, to
+clean the Poissons' business out. Suddenly, on the pavement over the
+way, he perceived the policeman, who was on duty, pass by all buttoned
+up with his sword dangling by his side. And this made him all the gayer.
+He compelled Virginie to look at her husband.
+
+"Dear me," he muttered, "Badingue looks fine this morning! Just look,
+see how stiff he walks. He must have stuck a glass eye in his back to
+surprise people."
+
+When Gervaise went back upstairs, she found Coupeau seated on the bed,
+in the torpid state induced by one of his attacks. He was looking at the
+window-panes with his dim expressionless eyes. She sat herself down on
+a chair, tired out, her hands hanging beside her dirty skirt; and for a
+quarter of an hour she remained in front of him without saying a word.
+
+"I've had some news," she muttered at last. "Your daughter's been seen.
+Yes, your daughter's precious stylish and hasn't any more need of you.
+She's awfully happy, she is! Ah! _Mon Dieu!_ I'd give a great deal to be
+in her place."
+
+Coupeau was still staring at the window-pane. But suddenly he raised his
+ravaged face, and stammered with an idiotic laugh:
+
+"Well, my little lamb, I'm not stopping you. You're not yet so bad
+looking when you wash yourself. As folks say, however old a pot may be,
+it ends by finding its lid. And, after all, I wouldn't care if it only
+buttered our bread."
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XII
+
+It must have been the Saturday after quarter day, something like the
+12th or 13th of January--Gervaise didn't quite know. She was losing
+her wits, for it was centuries since she had had anything warm in her
+stomach. Ah! what an infernal week! A complete clear out. Two loaves of
+four pounds each on Tuesday, which had lasted till Thursday; then a dry
+crust found the night before, and finally not a crumb for thirty-six
+hours, a real dance before the cupboard! What did she know, by the way,
+what she felt on her back, was the frightful cold, a black cold, the sky
+as grimy as a frying-pan, thick with snow which obstinately refused to
+fall. When winter and hunger are both together in your guts, you may
+tighten your belt as much as you like, it hardly feeds you.
+
+Perhaps Coupeau would bring back some money in the evening. He said that
+he was working. Anything is possible, isn't it? And Gervaise, although
+she had been caught many and many a time, had ended by relying on this
+coin. After all sorts of incidents, she herself couldn't find as much as
+a duster to wash in the whole neighborhood; and even an old lady, whose
+rooms she did, had just given her the sack, charging her with swilling
+her liqueurs. No one would engage her, she was washed up everywhere;
+and this secretly suited her, for she had fallen to that state of
+indifference when one prefers to croak rather than move one's fingers.
+At all events, if Coupeau brought his pay home they would have something
+warm to eat. And meanwhile, as it wasn't yet noon, she remained
+stretched on the mattress, for one doesn't feel so cold or so hungry
+when one is lying down.
+
+The bed was nothing but a pile of straw in a corner. Bed and bedding had
+gone, piece by piece, to the second-hand dealers of the neighborhood.
+First she had ripped open the mattress to sell handfuls of wool at ten
+sous a pound. When the mattress was empty she got thirty sous for the
+sack so as to be able to have coffee. Everything else had followed.
+Well, wasn't the straw good enough for them?
+
+Gervaise bent herself like a gun-trigger on the heap of straw, with her
+clothes on and her feet drawn up under her rag of a skirt, so as to
+keep them warm. And huddled up, with her eyes wide open, she turned
+some scarcely amusing ideas over in her mind that morning. Ah! no, they
+couldn't continue living without food. She no longer felt her hunger,
+only she had a leaden weight on her chest and her brain seemed empty.
+Certainly there was nothing gay to look at in the four corners of the
+hovel. A perfect kennel now, where greyhounds, who wear wrappers in the
+streets, would not even have lived in effigy. Her pale eyes stared at
+the bare walls. Everything had long since gone to "uncle's." All that
+remained were the chest of drawers, the table and a chair. Even the
+marble top of the chest of drawers and the drawers themselves, had
+evaporated in the same direction as the bedstead. A fire could not have
+cleaned them out more completely; the little knick-knacks had melted,
+beginning with the ticker, a twelve franc watch, down to the family
+photos, the frames of which had been bought by a woman keeping a
+second-hand store; a very obliging woman, by the way, to whom Gervaise
+carried a saucepan, an iron, a comb and who gave her five, three or two
+sous in exchange, according to the article; enough, at all events to go
+upstairs again with a bit of bread. But now there only remained a broken
+pair of candle snuffers, which the woman refused to give her even a sou
+for.
+
+Oh! if she could only have sold the rubbish and refuse, the dust and the
+dirt, how speedily she would have opened shop, for the room was filthy
+to behold! She only saw cobwebs in the corners and although cobwebs
+are good for cuts, there are, so far, no merchants who buy them. Then
+turning her head, abandoning the idea of doing a bit of trade, Gervaise
+gathered herself together more closely on her straw, preferring to stare
+through the window at the snow-laden sky, at the dreary daylight, which
+froze the marrow in her bones.
+
+What a lot of worry! Though, after all, what was the use of putting
+herself in such a state and puzzling her brains? If she had only been
+able to have a snooze. But her hole of a home wouldn't go out of her
+mind. Monsieur Marescot, the landlord had come in person the day before
+to tell them that he would turn them out into the street if the two
+quarters' rent now overdue were not paid during the ensuing week. Well,
+so he might, they certainly couldn't be worse off on the pavement! Fancy
+this ape, in his overcoat and his woolen gloves, coming upstairs to talk
+to them about rent, as if they had had a treasure hidden somewhere!
+
+Just the same with that brute of a Coupeau, who couldn't come home now
+without beating her; she wished him in the same place as the landlord.
+She sent them all there, wishing to rid herself of everyone, and of life
+too. She was becoming a real storehouse for blows. Coupeau had a cudgel,
+which he called his ass's fan, and he fanned his old woman. You should
+just have seen him giving her abominable thrashings, which made her
+perspire all over. She was no better herself, for she bit and scratched
+him. Then they stamped about in the empty room and gave each other such
+drubbings as were likely to ease them of all taste for bread for good.
+But Gervaise ended by not caring a fig for these thwacks, not more than
+she did for anything else. Coupeau might celebrate Saint Monday for
+weeks altogether, go off on the spree for months at a time, come home
+mad with liquor, and seek to sharpen her as he said, she had grown
+accustomed to it, she thought him tiresome, but nothing more. It was on
+these occasions that she wished him somewhere else. Yes, somewhere, her
+beast of a man and the Lorilleuxs, the Boches, and the Poissons too; in
+fact, the whole neighborhood, which she had such contempt for. She sent
+all Paris there with a gesture of supreme carelessness, and was pleased
+to be able to revenge herself in this style.
+
+One could get used to almost anything, but still, it is hard to
+break the habit of eating. That was the one thing that really annoyed
+Gervaise, the hunger that kept gnawing at her insides. Oh, those
+pleasant little snacks she used to have. Now she had fallen low enough
+to gobble anything she could find.
+
+On special occasions, she would get waste scraps of meat from the
+butcher for four sous a pound. Blacked and dried out meat that couldn't
+find a purchaser. She would mix this with potatoes for a stew. On other
+occasions, when she had some wine, she treated herself to a sop, a true
+parrot's pottage. Two sous' worth of Italian cheese, bushels of white
+potatoes, quarts of dry beans, cooked in their own juice, these also
+were dainties she was not often able to indulge in now. She came down
+to leavings from low eating dens, where for a sou she had a pile of
+fish-bones, mixed with the parings of moldy roast meat. She fell even
+lower--she begged a charitable eating-house keeper to give her his
+customers' dry crusts, and she made herself a bread soup, letting the
+crusts simmer as long as possible on a neighbor's fire. On the days when
+she was really hungry, she searched about with the dogs, to see what
+might be lying outside the tradespeople's doors before the dustmen went
+by; and thus at times she came across rich men's food, rotten melons,
+stinking mackerel and chops, which she carefully inspected for fear of
+maggots.
+
+Yes, she had come to this. The idea may be a repugnant one to
+delicate-minded folks, but if they hadn't chewed anything for three days
+running, we should hardly see them quarreling with their stomachs; they
+would go down on all fours and eat filth like other people. Ah! the
+death of the poor, the empty entrails, howling hunger, the animal
+appetite that leads one with chattering teeth to fill one's stomach with
+beastly refuse in this great Paris, so bright and golden! And to think
+that Gervaise used to fill her belly with fat goose! Now the thought
+of it brought tears to her eyes. One day, when Coupeau bagged two bread
+tickets from her to go and sell them and get some liquor, she nearly
+killed him with the blow of a shovel, so hungered and so enraged was she
+by this theft of a bit of bread.
+
+However, after a long contemplation of the pale sky, she had fallen into
+a painful doze. She dreamt that the snow-laden sky was falling on her,
+so cruelly did the cold pinch. Suddenly she sprang to her feet, awakened
+with a start by a shudder of anguish. _Mon Dieu!_ was she going to die?
+Shivering and haggard she perceived that it was still daylight. Wouldn't
+the night ever come? How long the time seems when the stomach is empty!
+Hers was waking up in its turn and beginning to torture her. Sinking
+down on the chair, with her head bent and her hands between her legs to
+warm them, she began to think what they would have for dinner as soon
+as Coupeau brought the money home: a loaf, a quart of wine and two
+platefuls of tripe in the Lyonnaise fashion. Three o'clock struck by
+father Bazouge's clock. Yes, it was only three o'clock. Then she began
+to cry. She would never have strength enough to wait until seven. Her
+body swayed backwards and forwards, she oscillated like a child nursing
+some sharp pain, bending herself double and crushing her stomach so as
+not to feel it. Ah! an accouchement is less painful than hunger! And
+unable to ease herself, seized with rage, she rose and stamped about,
+hoping to send her hunger to sleep by walking it to and fro like an
+infant. For half an hour or so, she knocked against the four corners of
+the empty room. Then, suddenly, she paused with a fixed stare. So much
+the worse! They might say what they liked; she would lick their feet if
+needs be, but she would go and ask the Lorilleuxs to lend her ten sous.
+
+At winter time, up these stairs of the house, the paupers' stairs, there
+was a constant borrowing of ten sous and twenty sous, petty services
+which these hungry beggars rendered each other. Only they would rather
+have died than have applied to the Lorilleuxs, for they knew they were
+too tight-fisted. Thus Gervaise displayed remarkable courage in going
+to knock at their door. She felt so frightened in the passage that she
+experienced the sudden relief of people who ring a dentist's bell.
+
+"Come in!" cried the chainmaker in a sour voice.
+
+How warm and nice it was inside. The forge was blazing, its white flame
+lighting up the narrow workroom, whilst Madame Lorilleux set a coil of
+gold wire to heat. Lorilleux, in front of his worktable, was perspiring
+with the warmth as he soldered the links of a chain together. And it
+smelt nice. Some cabbage soup was simmering on the stove, exhaling a
+steam which turned Gervaise's heart topsy-turvy, and almost made her
+faint.
+
+"Ah! it's you," growled Madame Lorilleux, without even asking her to sit
+down. "What do you want?"
+
+Gervaise did not answer for a moment. She had recently been on fairly
+good terms with the Lorilleuxs, but she saw Boche sitting by the stove.
+He seemed very much at home, telling funny stories.
+
+"What do you want?" repeated Lorilleux.
+
+"You haven't seen Coupeau?" Gervaise finally stammered at last. "I
+thought he was here."
+
+The chainmakers and the concierge sneered. No, for certain, they hadn't
+seen Coupeau. They didn't stand treat often enough to interest Coupeau.
+Gervaise made an effort and resumed, stuttering:
+
+"It's because he promised to come home. Yes, he's to bring me some
+money. And as I have absolute need of something--"
+
+Silence followed. Madame Lorilleux was roughly fanning the fire of the
+stove; Lorilleux had lowered his nose over the bit of chain between his
+fingers, while Boche continued laughing, puffing out his face till it
+looked like the full moon.
+
+"If I only had ten sous," muttered Gervaise, in a low voice.
+
+The silence persisted.
+
+"Couldn't you lend me ten sous? Oh! I would return them to you this
+evening!"
+
+Madame Lorilleux turned round and stared at her. Here was a wheedler
+trying to get round them. To-day she asked them for ten sous, to-morrow
+it would be for twenty, and there would be no reason to stop. No,
+indeed; it would be a warm day in winter if they lent her anything.
+
+"But, my dear," cried Madame Lorilleux. "You know very well that we
+haven't any money! Look! There's the lining of my pocket. You can search
+us. If we could, it would be with a willing heart, of course."
+
+"The heart's always there," growled Lorilleux. "Only when one can't, one
+can't."
+
+Gervaise looked very humble and nodded her head approvingly. However,
+she did not take herself off. She squinted at the gold, at the gold tied
+together hanging on the walls, at the gold wire the wife was drawing out
+with all the strength of her little arms, at the gold links lying in a
+heap under the husband's knotty fingers. And she thought that the least
+bit of this ugly black metal would suffice to buy her a good dinner. The
+workroom was as dirty as ever, full of old iron, coal dust and sticky
+oil stains, half wiped away; but now, as Gervaise saw it, it seemed
+resplendent with treasure, like a money changer's shop. And so she
+ventured to repeat softly: "I would return them to you, return them
+without fail. Ten sous wouldn't inconvenience you."
+
+Her heart was swelling with the effort she made not to own that she had
+had nothing to eat since the day before. Then she felt her legs give
+way. She was frightened that she might burst into tears, and she still
+stammered:
+
+"It would be kind of you! You don't know. Yes, I'm reduced to that, good
+Lord--reduced to that!"
+
+Thereupon the Lorilleuxs pursed their lips and exchanged covert glances.
+So Clump-clump was begging now! Well, the fall was complete. But they
+did not care for that kind of thing by any means. If they had known,
+they would have barricaded the door, for people should always be on
+their guard against beggars--folks who make their way into apartments
+under a pretext and carry precious objects away with them; and
+especially so in this place, as there was something worth while
+stealing. One might lay one's fingers no matter where, and carry off
+thirty or forty francs by merely closing the hands. They had felt
+suspicious several times already on noticing how strange Gervaise looked
+when she stuck herself in front of the gold. This time, however, they
+meant to watch her. And as she approached nearer, with her feet on the
+board, the chainmaker roughly called out, without giving any further
+answer to her question: "Look out, pest--take care; you'll be carrying
+some scraps of gold away on the soles of your shoes. One would think you
+had greased them on purpose to make the gold stick to them."
+
+Gervaise slowly drew back. For a moment she leant against a rack, and
+seeing that Madame Lorilleux was looking at her hands, she opened them
+and showed them, saying softly, without the least anger, like a fallen
+women who accepts anything:
+
+"I have taken nothing; you can look."
+
+And then she went off, because the strong smell of the cabbage soup and
+the warmth of the workroom made her feel too ill.
+
+Ah! the Lorilleuxs did not detain her. Good riddance; just see if they
+opened the door to her again. They had seen enough of her face. They
+didn't want other people's misery in their rooms, especially when that
+misery was so well deserved. They reveled in their selfish delight at
+being seated so cozily in a warm room, with a dainty soup cooking. Boche
+also stretched himself, puffing with his cheeks still more and more,
+so much, indeed, that his laugh really became indecent. They were all
+nicely revenged on Clump-clump, for her former manners, her blue shop,
+her spreads, and all the rest. It had all worked out just as it should,
+proving where a love of showing-off would get you.
+
+"So that is the style now? Begging for ten sous," cried Madame Lorilleux
+as soon as Gervaise had gone. "Wait a bit; I'll lend her ten sous, and
+no mistake, to go and get drunk with."
+
+Gervaise shuffled along the passage in her slippers, bending her back
+and feeling heavy. On reaching her door she did not open it--her room
+frightened her. It would be better to walk about, she would learn
+patience. As she passed by she stretched out her neck, peering into Pere
+Bru's kennel under the stairs. There, for instance, was another one who
+must have a fine appetite, for he had breakfasted and dined by heart
+during the last three days. However, he wasn't at home, there was only
+his hole, and Gervaise felt somewhat jealous, thinking that perhaps he
+had been invited somewhere. Then, as she reached the Bijards' she heard
+Lalie moaning, and, as the key was in the lock as usual, she opened the
+door and went in.
+
+"What is the matter?" she asked.
+
+The room was very clean. One could see that Lalie had carefully swept
+it, and arranged everything during the morning. Misery might blow into
+the room as much as it liked, carry off the chattels and spread all
+the dirt and refuse about. Lalie, however, came behind and tidied
+everything, imparting, at least, some appearance of comfort within. She
+might not be rich, but you realized that there was a housewife in the
+place. That afternoon her two little ones, Henriette and Jules, had
+found some old pictures which they were cutting out in a corner. But
+Gervaise was greatly surprised to see Lalie herself in bed, looking very
+pale, with the sheet drawn up to her chin. In bed, indeed, then she must
+be seriously ill!
+
+"What is the matter with you?" inquired Gervaise, feeling anxious.
+
+Lalie no longer groaned. She slowly raised her white eyelids, and tried
+to compel her lips to smile, although they were convulsed by a shudder.
+
+"There's nothing the matter with me," she whispered very softly. "Really
+nothing at all."
+
+Then, closing her eyes again, she added with an effort:
+
+"I made myself too tired during the last few days, and so I'm doing the
+idle; I'm nursing myself, as you see."
+
+But her childish face, streaked with livid stains, assumed such an
+expression of anguish that Gervaise, forgetting her own agony, joined
+her hands and fell on her knees near the bed. For the last month she
+had seen the girl clinging to the walls for support when she went about,
+bent double indeed, by a cough which seemed to presage a coffin. Now the
+poor child could not even cough. She had a hiccough and drops of blood
+oozed from the corners of her mouth.
+
+"It's not my fault if I hardly feel strong," she murmured, as if
+relieved. "I've tired myself to-day, trying to put things to rights.
+It's pretty tidy, isn't it? And I wanted to clean the windows as well,
+but my legs failed me. How stupid! However, when one has finished one
+can go to bed."
+
+She paused, then said, "Pray, see if my little ones are not cutting
+themselves with the scissors."
+
+And then she relapsed into silence, trembling and listening to a heavy
+footfall which was approaching up the stairs. Suddenly father Bijard
+brutally opened the door. As usual he was far gone, and his eyes shone
+with the furious madness imparted by the vitriol he had swallowed. When
+he perceived Lalie in bed, he tapped on his thighs with a sneer, and
+took the whip from where it hung.
+
+"Ah! by blazes, that's too much," he growled, "we'll soon have a laugh.
+So the cows lie down on their straw at noon now! Are you poking fun at
+me, you lazy beggar? Come, quick now, up you get!"
+
+And he cracked the whip over the bed. But the child beggingly replied:
+
+"Pray, papa, don't--don't strike me. I swear to you you will regret it.
+Don't strike!"
+
+"Will you jump up?" he roared still louder, "or else I'll tickle your
+ribs! Jump up, you little hound!"
+
+Then she softly said, "I can't--do you understand? I'm going to die."
+
+Gervaise had sprung upon Bijard and torn the whip away from him. He
+stood bewildered in front of the bed. What was the dirty brat talking
+about? Do girls die so young without even having been ill? Some excuse
+to get sugar out of him no doubt. Ah! he'd make inquiries, and if she
+lied, let her look out!
+
+"You will see, it's the truth," she continued. "As long as I could I
+avoided worrying you; but be kind now, and bid me good-bye, papa."
+
+Bijard wriggled his nose as if he fancied she was deceiving him. And
+yet it was true she had a singular look, the serious mien of a grown
+up person. The breath of death which passed through the room in some
+measure sobered him. He gazed around like a man awakened from a long
+sleep, saw the room so tidy, the two children clean, playing and
+laughing. And then he sank on to a chair stammering, "Our little mother,
+our little mother."
+
+Those were the only words he could find to say, and yet they were very
+tender ones to Lalie, who had never been much spoiled. She consoled
+her father. What especially worried her was to go off like this without
+having completely brought up the little ones. He would take care of
+them, would he not? With her dying breath she told him how they ought
+to be cared for and kept clean. But stultified, with the fumes of drink
+seizing hold of him again, he wagged his head, watching her with an
+uncertain stare as she was dying. All kind of things were touched in
+him, but he could find no more to say and he was too utterly burnt with
+liquor to shed a tear.
+
+"Listen," resumed Lalie, after a pause. "We owe four francs and seven
+sous to the baker; you must pay that. Madame Gaudron borrowed an iron of
+ours, which you must get from her. I wasn't able to make any soup this
+evening, but there's some bread left and you can warm up the potatoes."
+
+Till her last rattle, the poor kitten still remained the little mother.
+Surely she could never be replaced! She was dying because she had had,
+at her age, a true mother's reason, because her breast was too small and
+weak for so much maternity. And if her ferocious beast of a father lost
+his treasure, it was his own fault. After kicking the mother to death,
+hadn't he murdered the daughter as well? The two good angels would lie
+in the pauper's grave and all that could be in store for him was to kick
+the bucket like a dog in the gutter.
+
+Gervaise restrained herself not to burst out sobbing. She extended her
+hands, desirous of easing the child, and as the shred of a sheet was
+falling, she wished to tack it up and arrange the bed. Then the dying
+girl's poor little body was seen. Ah! _Mon Dieu!_ what misery! What
+woe! Stones would have wept. Lalie was bare, with only the remnants of
+a camisole on her shoulders by way of chemise; yes, bare, with the
+grievous, bleeding nudity of a martyr. She had no flesh left; her bones
+seemed to protrude through the skin. From her ribs to her thighs there
+extended a number of violet stripes--the marks of the whip forcibly
+imprinted on her. A livid bruise, moreover, encircled her left arm, as
+if the tender limb, scarcely larger than a lucifer, had been crushed
+in a vise. There was also an imperfectly closed wound on her right
+leg, left there by some ugly blow and which opened again and again of
+a morning, when she went about doing her errands. From head to foot,
+indeed, she was but one bruise! Oh! this murdering of childhood; those
+heavy hands crushing this lovely girl; how abominable that such weakness
+should have such a weighty cross to bear! Again did Gervaise crouch
+down, no longer thinking of tucking in the sheet, but overwhelmed by
+the pitiful sight of this martyrdom; and her trembling lips seemed to be
+seeking for words of prayer.
+
+"Madame Coupeau," murmured the child, "I beg you--"
+
+With her little arms she tried to draw up the sheet again, ashamed as it
+were for her father. Bijard, as stultified as ever, with his eyes on the
+corpse which was his own work, still wagged his head, but more slowly,
+like a worried animal might do.
+
+When she had covered Lalie up again, Gervaise felt she could not remain
+there any longer. The dying girl was growing weaker and ceased speaking;
+all that was left to her was her gaze--the dark look she had had as a
+resigned and thoughtful child and which she now fixed on her two little
+ones who were still cutting out their pictures. The room was growing
+gloomy and Bijard was working off his liquor while the poor girl was
+in her death agonies. No, no, life was too abominable! How frightful
+it was! How frightful! And Gervaise took herself off, and went down the
+stairs, not knowing what she was doing, her head wandering and so full
+of disgust that she would willingly have thrown herself under the wheels
+of an omnibus to have finished with her own existence.
+
+As she hastened on, growling against cursed fate, she suddenly found
+herself in front of the place where Coupeau pretended that he worked.
+Her legs had taken her there, and now her stomach began singing its song
+again, the complaint of hunger in ninety verses--a complaint she knew by
+heart. However, if she caught Coupeau as he left, she would be able to
+pounce upon the coin at once and buy some grub. A short hour's waiting
+at the utmost; she could surely stay that out, though she had sucked her
+thumbs since the day before.
+
+She was at the corner of Rue de la Charbonniere and Rue de Chartres.
+A chill wind was blowing and the sky was an ugly leaden grey. The
+impending snow hung over the city but not a flake had fallen as yet. She
+tried stamping her feet to keep warm, but soon stopped as there was no
+use working up an appetite.
+
+There was nothing amusing about. The few passers-by strode rapidly
+along, wrapped up in comforters; naturally enough one does not care
+to tarry when the cold is nipping at your heels. However, Gervaise
+perceived four or five women who were mounting guard like herself
+outside the door of the zinc-works; unfortunate creatures of
+course--wives watching for the pay to prevent it going to the dram-shop.
+There was a tall creature as bulky as a gendarme leaning against the
+wall, ready to spring on her husband as soon as he showed himself. A
+dark little woman with a delicate humble air was walking about on the
+other side of the way. Another one, a fat creature, had brought her two
+brats with her and was dragging them along, one on either hand, and both
+of them shivering and sobbing. And all these women, Gervaise like the
+others, passed and repassed, exchanging glances, but without speaking to
+one another. A pleasant meeting and no mistake. They didn't need to make
+friends to learn what number they lived at. They could all hang out the
+same sideboard, "Misery & Co." It seemed to make one feel even colder
+to see them walk about in silence, passing each other in this terrible
+January weather.
+
+However, nobody as yet left the zinc-works. But presently one workman
+appeared, then two, and then three, but these were no doubt decent
+fellows who took their pay home regularly, for they jerked their heads
+significantly as they saw the shadows wandering up and down. The tall
+creature stuck closer than ever to the side of the door, and suddenly
+fell upon a pale little man who was prudently poking his head out. Oh!
+it was soon settled! She searched him and collared his coin. Caught,
+no more money, not even enough to pay for a dram! Then the little man,
+looking very vexed and cast down, followed his gendarme, weeping like a
+child. The workmen were still coming out; and as the fat mother with the
+two brats approached the door, a tall fellow, with a cunning look, who
+noticed her, went hastily inside again to warn her husband; and when
+the latter arrived he had stuffed a couple of cart wheels away, two
+beautiful new five franc pieces, one in each of his shoes. He took one
+of the brats on his arm, and went off telling a variety of lies to
+his old woman who was complaining. There were other workmen also,
+mournful-looking fellows, who carried in their clinched fists the pay
+for the three or five days' work they had done during a fortnight,
+who reproached themselves with their own laziness, and took drunkards'
+oaths. But the saddest thing of all was the grief of the dark little
+woman, with the humble, delicate look; her husband, a handsome fellow,
+took himself off under her very nose, and so brutally indeed that he
+almost knocked her down, and she went home alone, stumbling past the
+shops and weeping all the tears in her body.
+
+At last the defile finished. Gervaise, who stood erect in the middle of
+the street, was still watching the door. The look-out seemed a bad one.
+A couple of workmen who were late appeared on the threshold, but there
+were still no signs of Coupeau. And when she asked the workmen if
+Coupeau wasn't coming, they answered her, being up to snuff, that he had
+gone off by the back-door with Lantimeche. Gervaise understood what
+this meant. Another of Coupeau's lies; she could whistle for him if she
+liked. Then shuffling along in her worn-out shoes, she went slowly down
+the Rue de la Charbonniere. Her dinner was going off in front of her,
+and she shuddered as she saw it running away in the yellow twilight.
+This time it was all over. Not a copper, not a hope, nothing but night
+and hunger. Ah! a fine night to kick the bucket, this dirty night which
+was falling over her shoulders!
+
+She was walking heavily up the Rue des Poissonniers when she suddenly
+heard Coupeau's voice. Yes, he was there in the Little Civet, letting
+My-Boots treat him. That comical chap, My-Boots, had been cunning enough
+at the end of last summer to espouse in authentic fashion a lady who,
+although rather advanced in years, had still preserved considerable
+traces of beauty. She was a lady-of-the-evening of the Rue des Martyrs,
+none of your common street hussies. And you should have seen this
+fortunate mortal, living like a man of means, with his hands in his
+pockets, well clad and well fed. He could hardly be recognised, so fat
+had he grown. His comrades said that his wife had as much work as she
+liked among the gentlemen of her acquaintance. A wife like that and a
+country-house is all one can wish for to embellish one's life. And so
+Coupeau squinted admiringly at My-Boots. Why, the lucky dog even had a
+gold ring on his little finger!
+
+Gervaise touched Coupeau on the shoulder just as he was coming out of
+the little Civet.
+
+"Say, I'm waiting; I'm hungry! I've got an empty stomach which is all I
+ever get from you."
+
+But he silenced her in a capital style, "You're hungry, eh? Well, eat
+your fist, and keep the other for to-morrow."
+
+He considered it highly improper to do the dramatic in other people's
+presence. What, he hadn't worked, and yet the bakers kneaded bread all
+the same. Did she take him for a fool, to come and try to frighten him
+with her stories?
+
+"Do you want me to turn thief?" she muttered, in a dull voice.
+
+My-Boots stroked his chin in conciliatory fashion. "No, that's
+forbidden," said he. "But when a woman knows how to handle herself--"
+
+And Coupeau interrupted him to call out "Bravo!" Yes, a woman always
+ought to know how to handle herself, but his wife had always been a
+helpless thing. It would be her fault if they died on the straw. Then he
+relapsed into his admiration for My-Boots. How awfully fine he looked! A
+regular landlord; with clean linen and swell shoes! They were no common
+stuff! His wife, at all events, knew how to keep the pot boiling!
+
+The two men walked towards the outer Boulevard, and Gervaise followed
+them. After a pause, she resumed, talking behind Coupeau's back:
+"I'm hungry; you know, I relied on you. You must find me something to
+nibble."
+
+He did not answer, and she repeated, in a tone of despairing agony: "Is
+that all I get from you?"
+
+"_Mon Dieu!_ I've no coin," he roared, turning round in a fury. "Just
+leave me alone, eh? Or else I'll hit you."
+
+He was already raising his fist. She drew back, and seemed to make up
+her mind. "All right, I'll leave you. I guess I can find a man."
+
+The zinc-worker laughed at this. He pretended to make a joke of the
+matter, and strengthened her purpose without seeming to do so. That was
+a fine idea of hers, and no mistake! In the evening, by gaslight,
+she might still hook a man. He recommended her to try the Capuchin
+restaurant where one could dine very pleasantly in a small private room.
+And, as she went off along the Boulevard, looking pale and furious he
+called out to her: "Listen, bring me back some dessert. I like cakes!
+And if your gentleman is well dressed, ask him for an old overcoat. I
+could use one."
+
+With these words ringing in her ears, Gervaise walked softly away. But
+when she found herself alone in the midst of the crowd, she slackened
+her pace. She was quite resolute. Between thieving and the other, well
+she preferred the other; for at all events she wouldn't harm any one.
+No doubt it wasn't proper. But what was proper and what was improper was
+sorely muddled together in her brain. When you are dying of hunger, you
+don't philosophize, you eat whatever bread turns up. She had gone along
+as far as the Chaussee-Clignancourt. It seemed as if the night would
+never come. However, she followed the Boulevards like a lady who is
+taking a stroll before dinner. The neighborhood in which she felt so
+ashamed, so greatly was it being embellished, was now full of fresh air.
+
+Lost in the crowd on the broad footway, walking past the little plane
+trees, Gervaise felt alone and abandoned. The vistas of the avenues
+seemed to empty her stomach all the more. And to think that among this
+flood of people there were many in easy circumstances, and yet not a
+Christian who could guess her position, and slip a ten sous piece into
+her hand! Yes, it was too great and too beautiful; her head swam and
+her legs tottered under this broad expanse of grey sky stretched over
+so vast a space. The twilight had the dirty-yellowish tinge of Parisian
+evenings, a tint that gives you a longing to die at once, so ugly
+does street life seem. The horizon was growing indistinct, assuming a
+mud-colored tinge as it were. Gervaise, who was already weary, met all
+the workpeople returning home. At this hour of the day the ladies in
+bonnets and the well-dressed gentlemen living in the new houses mingled
+with the people, with the files of men and women still pale from
+inhaling the tainted atmosphere of workshops and workrooms. From the
+Boulevard Magenta and the Rue du Faubourg-Poissonniere, came bands of
+people, rendered breathless by their uphill walk. As the omnivans and
+the cabs rolled by less noiselessly among the vans and trucks returning
+home empty at a gallop, an ever-increasing swarm of blouses and
+blue vests covered the pavement. Commissionaires returned with their
+crotchets on their backs. Two workmen took long strides side by side,
+talking to each other in loud voices, with any amount of gesticulation,
+but without looking at one another; others who were alone in overcoats
+and caps walked along the curbstones with lowered noses; others again
+came in parties of five or six, following each other, with pale eyes and
+their hands in their pockets and not exchanging a word. Some still had
+their pipes, which had gone out between their teeth. Four masons poked
+their white faces out of the windows of a cab which they had hired
+between them, and on the roof of which their mortar-troughs rocked to
+and fro. House-painters were swinging their pots; a zinc-worker was
+returning laden with a long ladder, with which he almost poked people's
+eyes out; whilst a belated plumber, with his box on his back, played
+the tune of "The Good King Dagobert" on his little trumpet. Ah! the sad
+music, a fitting accompaniment to the tread of the flock, the tread of
+the weary beasts of burden.
+
+Suddenly on raising her eyes she noticed the old Hotel Boncoeur in front
+of her. After being an all-night cafe, which the police had closed
+down, the little house was now abandoned; the shutters were covered with
+posters, the lantern was broken, and the whole building was rotting and
+crumbling away from top to bottom, with its smudgy claret-colored paint,
+quite moldy. The stationer's and the tobacconist's were still there. In
+the rear, over some low buildings, you could see the leprous facades of
+several five-storied houses rearing their tumble-down outlines against
+the sky. The "Grand Balcony" dancing hall no longer existed; some
+sugar-cutting works, which hissed continually, had been installed in the
+hall with the ten flaming windows. And yet it was here, in this dirty
+den--the Hotel Boncoeur--that the whole cursed life had commenced.
+Gervaise remained looking at the window of the first floor, from which
+hung a broken shutter, and recalled to mind her youth with Lantier,
+their first rows and the ignoble way in which he had abandoned her.
+Never mind, she was young then, and it all seemed gay to her, seen from
+a distance. Only twenty years. _Mon Dieu!_ and yet she had fallen to
+street-walking. Then the sight of the lodging house oppressed her and
+she walked up the Boulevard in the direction of Montmartre.
+
+The night was gathering, but children were still playing on the heaps of
+sand between the benches. The march past continued, the workgirls went
+by, trotting along and hurrying to make up for the time they had lost in
+looking in at the shop windows; one tall girl, who had stopped, left her
+hand in that of a big fellow, who accompanied her to within three doors
+of her home; others as they parted from each other, made appointments
+for the night at the "Great Hall of Folly" or the "Black Ball." In
+the midst of the groups, piece-workmen went by, carrying their clothes
+folded under their arms. A chimney sweep, harnessed with leather braces,
+was drawing a cart along, and nearly got himself crushed by an omnibus.
+Among the crowd which was now growing scantier, there were several
+women running with bare heads; after lighting the fire, they had come
+downstairs again and were hastily making their purchases for dinner;
+they jostled the people they met, darted into the bakers' and the pork
+butchers', and went off again with all despatch, their provisions in
+their hands. There were little girls of eight years old, who had been
+sent out on errands, and who went along past the shops, pressing long
+loaves of four pounds' weight, as tall as they were themselves, against
+their chests, as if these loaves had been beautiful yellow dolls; at
+times these little ones forgot themselves for five minutes or so, in
+front of some pictures in a shop window, and rested their cheeks against
+the bread. Then the flow subsided, the groups became fewer and farther
+between, the working classes had gone home; and as the gas blazed now
+that the day's toil was over, idleness and amusement seemed to wake up.
+
+Ah! yes; Gervaise had finished her day! She was wearier even than all
+this mob of toilers who had jostled her as they went by. She might lie
+down there and croak, for work would have nothing more to do with her,
+and she had toiled enough during her life to say: "Whose turn now? I've
+had enough." At present everyone was eating. It was really the end, the
+sun had blown out its candle, the night would be a long one. _Mon Dieu!_
+To stretch one's self at one's ease and never get up again; to think one
+had put one's tools by for good and that one could ruminate like a cow
+forever! That's what is good, after tiring one's self out for twenty
+years! And Gervaise, as hunger twisted her stomach, thought in spite of
+herself of the fete days, the spreads and the revelry of her life. Of
+one occasion especially, an awfully cold day, a mid-Lent Thursday. She
+had enjoyed herself wonderfully well. She was very pretty, fair-haired
+and fresh looking at that time. Her wash-house in the Rue Neuve had
+chosen her as queen in spite of her leg. And then they had had an outing
+on the boulevards in carts decked with greenery, in the midst of stylish
+people who ogled her. Real gentlemen put up their glasses as if she had
+been a true queen. In the evening there was a wonderful spread, and then
+they had danced till daylight. Queen; yes Queen! With a crown and a
+sash for twenty-four hours--twice round the clock! And now oppressed by
+hunger, she looked on the ground, as if she were seeking for the gutter
+in which she had let her fallen majesty tumble.
+
+She raised her eyes again. She was in front of the slaughter-houses
+which were being pulled down; through the gaps in the facade one could
+see the dark, stinking courtyards, still damp with blood. And when
+she had gone down the Boulevard again, she also saw the Lariboisiere
+Hospital, with its long grey wall, above which she could distinguish the
+mournful, fan-like wings, pierced with windows at even distances. A door
+in the wall filled the neighborhood with dread; it was the door of the
+dead in solid oak, and without a crack, as stern and as silent as a
+tombstone. Then to escape her thoughts, she hurried further down till
+she reached the railway bridge. The high parapets of riveted sheet-iron
+hid the line from view; she could only distinguish a corner of the
+station standing out against the luminous horizon of Paris, with a vast
+roof black with coal-dust. Through the clear space she could hear the
+engines whistling and the cars being shunted, in token of colossal
+hidden activity. Then a train passed by, leaving Paris, with puffing
+breath and a growing rumble. And all she perceived of this train was
+a white plume, a sudden gust of steam which rose above the parapet
+and then evaporated. But the bridge had shaken, and she herself seemed
+impressed by this departure at full speed. She turned round as if to
+follow the invisible engine, the noise of which was dying away.
+
+She caught a glimpse of open country through a gap between tall
+buildings. Oh, if only she could have taken a train and gone away, far
+away from this poverty and suffering. She might have started an entirely
+new life! Then she turned to look at the posters on the bridge sidings.
+One was on pretty blue paper and offered a fifty-franc reward for a lost
+dog. Someone must have really loved that dog!
+
+Gervaise slowly resumed her walk. In the smoky fog which was falling,
+the gas lamps were being lighted up; and the long avenues, which had
+grown bleak and indistinct, suddenly showed themselves plainly again,
+sparkling to their full length and piercing through the night, even to
+the vague darkness of the horizon. A great gust swept by; the widened
+spaces were lighted up with girdles of little flames, shining under the
+far-stretching moonless sky. It was the hour when, from one end of the
+Boulevard to the other, the dram-shops and the dancing-halls flamed
+gayly as the first glasses were merrily drunk and the first dance began.
+It was the great fortnightly pay-day, and the pavement was crowded with
+jostling revelers on the spree. There was a breath of merrymaking in
+the air--deuced fine revelry, but not objectionable so far. Fellows were
+filling themselves in the eating-houses; through the lighted windows you
+could see people feeding, with their mouths full and laughing without
+taking the trouble to swallow first. Drunkards were already installed
+in the wineshops, squabbling and gesticulating. And there was a cursed
+noise on all sides, voices shouting amid the constant clatter of feet on
+the pavement.
+
+"Say, are you coming to sip?" "Make haste, old man; I'll pay for a glass
+of bottled wine." "Here's Pauline! Shan't we just laugh!" The doors
+swung to and fro, letting a smell of wine and a sound of cornet playing
+escape into the open air. There was a gathering in front of Pere
+Colombe's l'Assommoir, which was lighted up like a cathedral for high
+mass. _Mon Dieu!_ you would have said a real ceremony was going on,
+for several capital fellows, with rounded paunches and swollen cheeks,
+looking for all the world like professional choristers, were singing
+inside. They were celebrating Saint-Pay, of course--a very amiable
+saint, who no doubt keeps the cash box in Paradise. Only, on seeing how
+gaily the evening began, the retired petty tradesmen who had taken their
+wives out for a stroll wagged their heads, and repeated that there
+would be any number of drunken men in Paris that night. And the night
+stretched very dark, dead-like and icy, above this revelry, perforated
+only with lines of gas lamps extending to the four corners of heaven.
+
+Gervaise stood in front of l'Assommoir, thinking that if she had had a
+couple of sous she could have gone inside and drunk a dram. No doubt a
+dram would have quieted her hunger. Ah! what a number of drams she had
+drunk in her time! Liquor seemed good stuff to her after all. And
+from outside she watched the drunk-making machine, realizing that her
+misfortune was due to it, and yet dreaming of finishing herself off with
+brandy on the day she had some coin. But a shudder passed through
+her hair as she saw it was now almost dark. Well, the night time was
+approaching. She must have some pluck and sell herself coaxingly if
+she didn't wish to kick the bucket in the midst of the general revelry.
+Looking at other people gorging themselves didn't precisely fill her own
+stomach. She slackened her pace again and looked around her. There was
+a darker shade under the trees. Few people passed along, only folks in
+a hurry, who swiftly crossed the Boulevards. And on the broad, dark,
+deserted footway, where the sound of the revelry died away, women were
+standing and waiting. They remained for long intervals motionless,
+patient and as stiff-looking as the scrubby little plane trees; then
+they slowly began to move, dragging their slippers over the frozen soil,
+taking ten steps or so and then waiting again, rooted as it were to the
+ground. There was one of them with a huge body and insect-like arms and
+legs, wearing a black silk rag, with a yellow scarf over her head; there
+was another one, tall and bony, who was bareheaded and wore a servant's
+apron; and others, too--old ones plastered up and young ones so dirty
+that a ragpicker would not have picked them up. However, Gervaise tried
+to learn what to do by imitating them; girlish-like emotion tightened
+her throat; she was hardly aware whether she felt ashamed or not; she
+seemed to be living in a horrible dream. For a quarter of an hour she
+remained standing erect. Men hurried by without even turning their
+heads. Then she moved about in her turn, and venturing to accost a man
+who was whistling with his hands in his pockets, she murmured, in a
+strangled voice:
+
+"Sir, listen a moment--"
+
+The man gave her a side glance and then went off, whistling all the
+louder.
+
+Gervaise grew bolder, and, with her stomach empty, she became absorbed
+in this chase, fiercely rushing after her dinner, which was still
+running away. She walked about for a long while, without thinking of the
+flight of time or of the direction she took. Around her the dark, mute
+women went to and fro under the trees like wild beasts in a cage. They
+stepped out of the shade like apparitions, and passed under the light
+of a gas lamp with their pale masks fully apparent; then they grew
+vague again as they went off into the darkness, with a white strip of
+petticoat swinging to and fro. Men let themselves be stopped at times,
+talked jokingly, and then started off again laughing. Others would
+quietly follow a woman to her room, discreetly, ten paces behind.
+There was a deal of muttering, quarreling in an undertone and furious
+bargaining, which suddenly subsided into profound silence. And as far as
+Gervaise went she saw these women standing like sentinels in the night.
+They seemed to be placed along the whole length of the Boulevard. As
+soon as she met one she saw another twenty paces further on, and the
+file stretched out unceasingly. Entire Paris was guarded. She grew
+enraged on finding herself disdained, and changing her place, she now
+perambulated between the Chaussee de Clignancourt and the Grand Rue of
+La Chapelle. All were beggars.
+
+"Sir, just listen."
+
+But the men passed by. She started from the slaughter-houses, which
+stank of blood. She glanced on her way at the old Hotel Boncoeur,
+now closed. She passed in front of the Lariboisiere Hospital, and
+mechanically counted the number of windows that were illuminated with
+a pale quiet glimmer, like that of night-lights at the bedside of some
+agonizing sufferers. She crossed the railway bridge as the trains rushed
+by with a noisy rumble, rending the air in twain with their shrill
+whistling! Ah! how sad everything seemed at night-time! Then she turned
+on her heels again and filled her eyes with the sight of the same
+houses, doing this ten and twenty times without pausing, without resting
+for a minute on a bench. No; no one wanted her. Her shame seemed to be
+increased by this contempt. She went down towards the hospital again,
+and then returned towards the slaughter-houses. It was her last
+promenade--from the blood-stained courtyards, where animals were
+slaughtered, down to the pale hospital wards, where death stiffened
+the patients stretched between the sheets. It was between these two
+establishments that she had passed her life.
+
+"Sir, just listen."
+
+But suddenly she perceived her shadow on the ground. When she approached
+a gas-lamp it gradually became less vague, till it stood out at last in
+full force--an enormous shadow it was, positively grotesque, so portly
+had she become. Her stomach, breast and hips, all equally flabby jostled
+together as it were. She walked with such a limp that the shadow bobbed
+almost topsy-turvy at every step she took; it looked like a real Punch!
+Then as she left the street lamp behind her, the Punch grew taller,
+becoming in fact gigantic, filling the whole Boulevard, bobbing to and
+fro in such style that it seemed fated to smash its nose against the
+trees or the houses. _Mon Dieu!_ how frightful she was! She had never
+realised her disfigurement so thoroughly. And she could not help looking
+at her shadow; indeed, she waited for the gas-lamps, still watching the
+Punch as it bobbed about. Ah! she had a pretty companion beside her!
+What a figure! It ought to attract the men at once! And at the thought
+of her unsightliness, she lowered her voice, and only just dared to
+stammer behind the passers-by:
+
+"Sir, just listen."
+
+It was now getting quite late. Matters were growing bad in the
+neighborhood. The eating-houses had closed and voices, gruff with
+drink, could be heard disputing in the wineshops. Revelry was turning to
+quarreling and fisticuffs. A big ragged chap roared out, "I'll knock
+yer to bits; just count yer bones." A large woman had quarreled with a
+fellow outside a dancing place, and was calling him "dirty blackguard"
+and "lousy bum," whilst he on his side just muttered under his breath.
+Drink seemed to have imparted a fierce desire to indulge in blows, and
+the passers-by, who were now less numerous, had pale contracted faces.
+There was a battle at last; one drunken fellow came down on his back
+with all four limbs raised in the air, whilst his comrade, thinking
+he had done for him, ran off with his heavy shoes clattering over the
+pavement. Groups of men sang dirty songs and then there would be long
+silences broken only by hiccoughs or the thud of a drunk falling down.
+
+Gervaise still hobbled about, going up and down, with the idea of
+walking forever. At times, she felt drowsy and almost went to sleep,
+rocked, as it were, by her lame leg; then she looked round her with a
+start, and noticed she had walked a hundred yards unconsciously. Her
+feet were swelling in her ragged shoes. The last clear thought that
+occupied her mind was that her hussy of a daughter was perhaps eating
+oysters at that very moment. Then everything became cloudy; and, albeit,
+she remained with open eyes, it required too great an effort for her
+to think. The only sensation that remained to her, in her utter
+annihilation, was that it was frightfully cold, so sharply, mortally
+cold, she had never known the like before. Why, even dead people could
+not feel so cold in their graves. With an effort she raised her head,
+and something seemed to lash her face. It was the snow, which had at
+last decided to fall from the smoky sky--fine thick snow, which the
+breeze swept round and round. For three days it had been expected and
+what a splendid moment it chose to appear.
+
+Woken up by the first gusts, Gervaise began to walk faster. Eager to get
+home, men were running along, with their shoulders already white. And as
+she suddenly saw one who, on the contrary, was coming slowly towards her
+under the trees, she approached him and again said: "Sir, just listen--"
+
+The man has stopped. But he did not seem to have heard her. He held out
+his hand, and muttered in a low voice: "Charity, if you please!"
+
+They looked at one another. Ah! _Mon Dieu!_ They were reduced to
+this--Pere Bru begging, Madame Coupeau walking the streets! They
+remained stupefied in front of each other. They could join hands as
+equals now. The old workman had prowled about the whole evening, not
+daring to stop anyone, and the first person he accosted was as hungry as
+himself. Lord, was it not pitiful! To have toiled for fifty years and be
+obliged to beg! To have been one of the most prosperous laundresses
+in the Rue de la Goutte-d'Or and to end beside the gutter! They still
+looked at one another. Then, without saying a word, they went off in
+different directions under the lashing snow.
+
+It was a perfect tempest. On these heights, in the midst of this open
+space, the fine snow revolved round and round as if the wind came from
+the four corners of heaven. You could not see ten paces off, everything
+was confused in the midst of this flying dust. The surroundings had
+disappeared, the Boulevard seemed to be dead, as if the storm had
+stretched the silence of its white sheet over the hiccoughs of the last
+drunkards. Gervaise still went on, blinded, lost. She felt her way by
+touching the trees. As she advanced the gas-lamps shone out amidst the
+whiteness like torches. Then, suddenly, whenever she crossed an open
+space, these lights failed her; she was enveloped in the whirling snow,
+unable to distinguish anything to guide her. Below stretched the
+ground, vaguely white; grey walls surrounded her, and when she paused,
+hesitating and turning her head, she divined that behind this icy veil
+extended the immense avenue with interminable vistas of gas-lamps--the
+black and deserted Infinite of Paris asleep.
+
+She was standing where the outer Boulevard meets the Boulevards Magenta
+and Ornano, thinking of lying down on the ground, when suddenly she
+heard a footfall. She began to run, but the snow blinded her, and the
+footsteps went off without her being able to tell whether it was to
+the right or to the left. At last, however, she perceived a man's broad
+shoulders, a dark form which was disappearing amid the snow. Oh! she
+wouldn't let this man get away. And she ran on all the faster, reached
+him, and caught him by the blouse: "Sir, sir, just listen."
+
+The man turned round. It was Goujet.
+
+So now she had accosted Golden-Beard. But what had she done on earth
+to be tortured like this by Providence? It was the crowning blow--to
+stumble against Goujet, and be seen by her blacksmith friend, pale
+and begging, like a common street walker. And it happened just under a
+gas-lamp; she could see her deformed shadow swaying on the snow like a
+real caricature. You would have said she was drunk. _Mon Dieu!_ not to
+have a crust of bread, or a drop of wine in her body, and to be taken
+for a drunken women! It was her own fault, why did she booze? Goujet no
+doubt thought she had been drinking, and that she was up to some nasty
+pranks.
+
+He looked at her while the snow scattered daisies over his beautiful
+yellow beard. Then as she lowered her head and stepped back he detained
+her.
+
+"Come," said he.
+
+And he walked on first. She followed him. They both crossed the silent
+district, gliding noiselessly along the walls. Poor Madame Goujet had
+died of rheumatism in the month of October. Goujet still resided in the
+little house in the Rue Neuve, living gloomily alone. On this occasion
+he was belated because he had sat up nursing a wounded comrade. When he
+had opened the door and lighted a lamp, he turned towards Gervaise, who
+had remained humbly on the threshold. Then, in a low voice, as if he
+were afraid his mother could still hear him, he exclaimed, "Come in."
+
+The first room, Madame Goujet's, was piously preserved in the state she
+had left it. On a chair near the window lay the tambour by the side of
+the large arm-chair, which seemed to be waiting for the old lace-worker.
+The bed was made, and she could have stretched herself beneath the
+sheets if she had left the cemetery to come and spend the evening with
+her child. There was something solemn, a perfume of honesty and goodness
+about the room.
+
+"Come in," repeated the blacksmith in a louder tone.
+
+She went in, half frightened, like a disreputable woman gliding into
+a respectable place. He was quite pale, and trembled at the thought of
+ushering a woman like this into his dead mother's home. They crossed the
+room on tip-toe, as if they were ashamed to be heard. Then when he had
+pushed Gervaise into his own room he closed the door. Here he was at
+home. It was the narrow closet she was acquainted with; a schoolgirl's
+room, with the little iron bedstead hung with white curtains. On the
+walls the engravings cut out of illustrated newspapers had gathered and
+spread, and they now reached to the ceiling. The room looked so pure
+that Gervaise did not dare to advance, but retreated as far as she could
+from the lamp. Then without a word, in a transport as it were, he tried
+to seize hold of her and press her in his arms. But she felt faint and
+murmured: "Oh! _Mon Dieu!_ Oh, _mon Dieu!_"
+
+The fire in the stove, having been covered with coke-dust, was still
+alight, and the remains of a stew which Goujet had put to warm, thinking
+he should return to dinner, was smoking in front of the cinders.
+Gervaise, who felt her numbness leave her in the warmth of this room,
+would have gone down on all fours to eat out of the saucepan. Her hunger
+was stronger than her will; her stomach seemed rent in two; and she
+stooped down with a sigh. Goujet had realized the truth. He placed the
+stew on the table, cut some bread, and poured her out a glass of wine.
+
+"Thank you! Thank you!" said she. "Oh, how kind you are! Thank you!"
+
+She stammered; she could hardly articulate. When she caught hold of her
+fork she began to tremble so acutely that she let it fall again. The
+hunger that possessed her made her wag her head as if senile. She
+carried the food to her mouth with her fingers. As she stuffed the first
+potato into her mouth, she burst out sobbing. Big tears coursed down her
+cheeks and fell onto her bread. She still ate, gluttonously devouring
+this bread thus moistened by her tears, and breathing very hard all the
+while. Goujet compelled her to drink to prevent her from stifling, and
+her glass chinked, as it were, against her teeth.
+
+"Will you have some more bread?" he asked in an undertone.
+
+She cried, she said "no," she said "yes," she didn't know. Ah! how nice
+and yet how painful it is to eat when one is starving.
+
+And standing in front of her, Goujet looked at her all the while; under
+the bright light cast by the lamp-shade he could see her well. How aged
+and altered she seemed! The heat was melting the snow on her hair and
+clothes, and she was dripping. Her poor wagging head was quite grey;
+there were any number of grey locks which the wind had disarranged.
+Her neck sank into her shoulders and she had become so fat and ugly you
+might have cried on noticing the change. He recollected their love, when
+she was quite rosy, working with her irons, and showing the child-like
+crease which set such a charming necklace round her throat. In those
+times he had watched her for hours, glad just to look at her. Later on
+she had come to the forge, and there they had enjoyed themselves whilst
+he beat the iron, and she stood by watching his hammer dance. How often
+at night, with his head buried in his pillow, had he dreamed of holding
+her in his arms.
+
+Gervaise rose; she had finished. She remained for a moment with her head
+lowered, and ill at ease. Then, thinking she detected a gleam in his
+eyes, she raised her hand to her jacket and began to unfasten the first
+button. But Goujet had fallen on his knees, and taking hold of her
+hands, he exclaimed softly:
+
+"I love you, Madame Gervaise; oh! I love you still, and in spite of
+everything, I swear it to you!"
+
+"Don't say that, Monsieur Goujet!" she cried, maddened to see him like
+this at her feet. "No, don't say that; you grieve me too much."
+
+And as he repeated that he could never love twice in his life, she
+became yet more despairing.
+
+"No, no, I am too ashamed. For the love of God get up. It is my place to
+be on the ground."
+
+He rose, he trembled all over and stammered: "Will you allow me to kiss
+you?"
+
+Overcome with surprise and emotion she could not speak, but she assented
+with a nod of the head. After all she was his; he could do what he chose
+with her. But he merely kissed her.
+
+"That suffices between us, Madame Gervaise," he muttered. "It sums up
+all our friendship, does it not?"
+
+He had kissed her on the forehead, on a lock of her grey hair. He had
+not kissed anyone since his mother's death. His sweetheart Gervaise
+alone remained to him in life. And then, when he had kissed her with
+so much respect, he fell back across his bed with sobs rising in his
+throat. And Gervaise could not remain there any longer. It was too
+sad and too abominable to meet again under such circumstances when one
+loved. "I love you, Monsieur Goujet," she exclaimed. "I love you dearly,
+also. Oh! it isn't possible you still love me. Good-bye, good-bye; it
+would smother us both; it would be more than we could stand."
+
+And she darted through Madame Goujet's room and found herself outside
+on the pavement again. When she recovered her senses she had rung at the
+door in the Rue de la Goutte-d'Or and Boche was pulling the string. The
+house was quite dark, and in the black night the yawning, dilapidated
+porch looked like an open mouth. To think that she had been ambitious
+of having a corner in this barracks! Had her ears been stopped up then,
+that she had not heard the cursed music of despair which sounded behind
+the walls? Since she had set foot in the place she had begun to go
+down hill. Yes, it must bring bad luck to shut oneself up in these big
+workmen's houses; the cholera of misery was contagious there. That night
+everyone seemed to have kicked the bucket. She only heard the Boches
+snoring on the right-hand side, while Lantier and Virginie on the left
+were purring like a couple of cats who were not asleep, but have their
+eyes closed and feel warm. In the courtyard she fancied she was in
+a perfect cemetery; the snow paved the ground with white; the high
+frontages, livid grey in tint, rose up unlighted like ruined walls, and
+not a sigh could be heard. It seemed as if a whole village, stiffened
+with cold and hunger, were buried here. She had to step over a black
+gutter--water from the dye-works--which smoked and streaked the
+whiteness of the snow with its muddy course. It was the color of her
+thoughts. The beautiful light blue and light pink waters had long since
+flowed away.
+
+Then, whilst ascending the six flights of stairs in the dark, she could
+not prevent herself from laughing; an ugly laugh which hurt her. She
+recalled her ideal of former days: to work quietly, always have bread
+to eat and a tidy house to sleep in, to bring up her children, not to
+be beaten and to die in her bed. No, really, it was comical how all
+that was becoming realized! She no longer worked, she no longer ate, she
+slept on filth, her husband frequented all sorts of wineshops, and her
+husband drubbed her at all hours of the day; all that was left for
+her to do was to die on the pavement, and it would not take long if on
+getting into her room, she could only pluck up courage to fling herself
+out of the window. Was it not enough to make one think that she had
+hoped to earn thirty thousand francs a year, and no end of respect? Ah!
+really, in this life it is no use being modest; one only gets sat upon.
+Not even pap and a nest, that is the common lot.
+
+What increased her ugly laugh was the recollection of her grand hope of
+retiring into the country after twenty years passed in ironing. Well!
+she was on her way to the country. She was going to have her green
+corner in the Pere-Lachaise cemetery.
+
+When she entered the passage she was like a mad-woman. Her poor head
+was whirling round. At heart her great grief was at having bid the
+blacksmith an eternal farewell. All was ended between them; they would
+never see each other more. Then, besides that, all her other thoughts of
+misfortune pressed upon her, and almost caused her head to split. As she
+passed she poked her nose in at the Bijards' and beheld Lalie dead, with
+a look of contentment on her face at having at last been laid out
+and slumbering forever. Ah, well! children were luckier than grown-up
+people. And, as a glimmer of light passed under old Bazouge's door, she
+walked boldly in, seized with a mania for going off on the same journey
+as the little one.
+
+That old joker, Bazouge, had come home that night in an extraordinary
+state of gaiety. He had had such a booze that he was snoring on the
+ground in spite of the temperature, and that no doubt did not prevent
+him from dreaming something pleasant, for he seemed to be laughing from
+his stomach as he slept. The candle, which he had not put out, lighted
+up his old garments, his black cloak, which he had drawn over his knees
+as though it had been a blanket.
+
+On beholding him Gervaise uttered such a deep wailing that he awoke.
+
+"_Mon Dieu!_ shut the door! It's so cold! Ah! it's you! What's the
+matter? What do you want?"
+
+Then, Gervaise, stretching out her arms, no longer knowing what she
+stuttered, began passionately to implore him:
+
+"Oh! take me away! I've had enough; I want to go off. You mustn't bear
+me any grudge. I didn't know. One never knows until one's ready. Oh,
+yes; one's glad to go one day! Take me away! Take me away and I shall
+thank you!"
+
+She fell on her knees, all shaken with a desire which caused her to turn
+ghastly pale. Never before had she thus dragged herself at a man's feet.
+Old Bazouge's ugly mug, with his mouth all on one side and his hide
+begrimed with the dust of funerals, seemed to her as beautiful and
+resplendent as a sun. The old fellow, who was scarcely awake thought,
+however, that it was some sort of bad joke.
+
+"Look here," murmured he, "no jokes!"
+
+"Take me away," repeated Gervaise more ardently still. "You remember,
+I knocked one evening against the partition; then I said that it wasn't
+true, because I was still a fool. But see! Give me your hands. I'm no
+longer frightened. Take me away to by-by; you'll see how still I'll be.
+Oh! sleep, that's all I care for. Oh! I'll love you so much!"
+
+Bazouge, ever gallant, thought that he ought not to be hasty with a
+lady who appeared to have taken such a fancy to him. She was falling to
+pieces, but all the same, what remained was very fine, especially when
+she was excited.
+
+"What you say is very true," said he in a convinced manner. "I packed
+up three more to-day who would only have been too glad to have given
+me something for myself, could they but have got their hands to their
+pockets. But, little woman, it's not so easily settled as all that--"
+
+"Take me away, take me away," continued Gervaise, "I want to die."
+
+"Ah! but there's a little operation to be gone through beforehand--you
+know, glug!"
+
+And he made a noise in his throat, as though swallowing his tongue.
+Then, thinking it a good joke, he chuckled.
+
+Gervaise slowly rose to her feet. So he too could do nothing for her.
+She went to her room and threw herself on her straw, feeling stupid,
+and regretting she had eaten. Ah! no indeed, misery did not kill quickly
+enough.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XIII
+
+That night Coupeau went on a spree. Next day, Gervaise received ten
+francs from her son Etienne, who was a mechanic on some railway. The
+youngster sent her a few francs from time to time, knowing that they
+were not very well off at home. She made some soup, and ate it all
+alone, for that scoundrel Coupeau did not return on the morrow. On
+Monday he was still absent, and on Tuesday also. The whole week went by.
+Ah, it would be good luck if some woman took him in.
+
+On Sunday Gervaise received a printed document. It was to inform her
+that her husband was dying at the Sainte-Anne asylum.
+
+Gervaise did not disturb herself. He knew the way; he could very well
+get home from the asylum by himself. They had cured him there so often
+that they could once more do him the sorry service of putting him on his
+pins again. Had she not heard that very morning that for the week before
+Coupeau had been seen as round as a ball, rolling about Belleville from
+one dram shop to another in the company of My-Boots. Exactly so; and
+it was My-Boots, too, who stood treat. He must have hooked his missus's
+stocking with all the savings gained at very hard work. It wasn't clean
+money they had used, but money that could infect them with any manner
+of vile diseases. Well, anyway, they hadn't thought to invite her for a
+drink. If you wanted to drink by yourself, you could croak by yourself.
+
+However, on Monday, as Gervaise had a nice little meal planned for the
+evening, the remains of some beans and a pint of wine, she pretended
+to herself that a walk would give her an appetite. The letter from the
+asylum which she had left lying on the bureau bothered her. The snow
+had melted, the day was mild and grey and on the whole fine, with just a
+slight keenness in the air which was invigorating. She started at noon,
+for her walk was a long one. She had to cross Paris and her bad leg
+always slowed her. With that the streets were crowded; but the people
+amused her; she reached her destination very pleasantly. When she had
+given her name, she was told a most astounding story to the effect that
+Coupeau had been fished out of the Seine close to the Pont-Neuf. He had
+jumped over the parapet, under the impression that a bearded man was
+barring his way. A fine jump, was it not? And as for finding out how
+Coupeau got to be on the Pont-Neuf, that was a matter he could not even
+explain himself.
+
+One of the keepers escorted Gervaise. She was ascending a staircase,
+when she heard howlings which made her shiver to her very bones.
+
+"He's playing a nice music, isn't he?" observed the keeper.
+
+"Who is?" asked she.
+
+"Why, your old man! He's been yelling like that ever since the day
+before yesterday; and he dances, you'll just see."
+
+_Mon Dieu!_ what a sight! She stood as one transfixed. The cell was
+padded from the floor to the ceiling. On the floor there were two straw
+mats, one piled on top of the other; and in a corner were spread a
+mattress and a bolster, nothing more. Inside there Coupeau was dancing
+and yelling, his blouse in tatters and his limbs beating the air.
+He wore the mask of one about to die. What a breakdown! He bumped up
+against the window, then retired backwards, beating time with his arms
+and shaking his hands as though he were trying to wrench them off and
+fling them in somebody's face. One meets with buffoons in low dancing
+places who imitate the delirium tremens, only they imitate it badly.
+One must see this drunkard's dance if one wishes to know what it is like
+when gone through in earnest. The song also has its merits, a continuous
+yell worthy of carnival-time, a mouth wide open uttering the same hoarse
+trombone notes for hours together. Coupeau had the howl of a beast with
+a crushed paw. Strike up, music! Gentlemen, choose your partners!
+
+"_Mon Dieu!_ what is the matter with him? What is the matter with him?"
+repeated Gervaise, seized with fear.
+
+A house surgeon, a big fair fellow with a rosy countenance, and wearing
+a white apron, was quietly sitting taking notes. The case was a curious
+one; the doctor did not leave the patient.
+
+"Stay a while if you like," said he to the laundress; "but keep quiet.
+Try and speak to him, he will not recognise you."
+
+Coupeau indeed did not even appear to see his wife. She had only had a
+bad view of him on entering, he was wriggling about so much. When
+she looked him full in the face, she stood aghast. _Mon Dieu!_ was it
+possible he had a countenance like that, his eyes full of blood and his
+lips covered with scabs? She would certainly never have known him. To
+begin with, he was making too many grimaces, without saying why, his
+mouth suddenly out of all shape, his nose curled up, his cheeks drawn
+in, a perfect animal's muzzle. His skin was so hot the air steamed
+around him; and his hide was as though varnished, covered with a heavy
+sweat which trickled off him. In his mad dance, one could see all the
+same that he was not at his ease, his head was heavy and his limbs
+ached.
+
+Gervaise drew near to the house surgeon, who was strumming a tune with
+the tips of his fingers on the back of his chair.
+
+"Tell me, sir, it's serious then this time?"
+
+The house surgeon nodded his head without answering.
+
+"Isn't he jabbering to himself? Eh! don't you hear? What's it about?
+
+"About things he sees," murmured the young man. "Keep quiet, let me
+listen."
+
+Coupeau was speaking in a jerky voice. A glimmer of amusement lit up
+his eyes. He looked on the floor, to the right, to the left, and
+turned about as though he had been strolling in the Bois de Vincennes,
+conversing with himself.
+
+"Ah! that's nice, that's grand! There're cottages, a regular fair. And
+some jolly fine music! What a Balthazar's feast! They're smashing the
+crockery in there. Awfully swell! Now it's being lit up; red balls in
+the air, and it jumps, and it flies! Oh! oh! what a lot of lanterns in
+the trees! It's confoundedly pleasant! There's water flowing everywhere,
+fountains, cascades, water which sings, oh! with the voice of a
+chorister. The cascades are grand!"
+
+And he drew himself up, as though the better to hear the delicious song
+of the water; he sucked in forcibly, fancying he was drinking the fresh
+spray blown from the fountains. But, little by little, his face resumed
+an agonized expression. Then he crouched down and flew quicker than ever
+around the walls of the cell, uttering vague threats.
+
+"More traps, all that! I thought as much. Silence, you set of swindlers!
+Yes, you're making a fool of me. It's for that that you're drinking and
+bawling inside there with your viragoes. I'll demolish you, you and your
+cottage! Damnation! Will you leave me in peace?"
+
+He clinched his fists; then he uttered a hoarse cry, stooping as he ran.
+And he stuttered, his teeth chattering with fright.
+
+"It's so that I may kill myself. No, I won't throw myself in! All that
+water means that I've no heart. No, I won't throw myself in!"
+
+The cascades, which fled at his approach, advanced when he retired. And
+all of a sudden, he looked stupidly around him, mumbling, in a voice
+which was scarcely audible:
+
+"It isn't possible, they set conjurers against me!"
+
+"I'm off, sir. I've got to go. Good-night!" said Gervaise to the house
+surgeon. "It upsets me too much; I'll come again."
+
+She was quite white. Coupeau was continuing his breakdown from the
+window to the mattress and from the mattress to the window, perspiring,
+toiling, always beating the same rhythm. Then she hurried away. But
+though she scrambled down the stairs, she still heard her husband's
+confounded jig until she reached the bottom. Ah! _Mon Dieu!_ how
+pleasant it was out of doors, one could breathe there!
+
+That evening everyone in the tenement was discussing Coupeau's strange
+malady. The Boches invited Gervaise to have a drink with them, even
+though they now considered Clump-clump beneath them, in order to hear
+all the details. Madame Lorilleux and Madame Poisson were there also.
+Boche told of a carpenter he had known who had been a drinker of
+absinthe. The man shed his clothes, went out in the street and danced
+the polka until he died. That rather struck the ladies as comic, even
+though it was very sad.
+
+Gervaise got up in the middle of the room and did an imitation of
+Coupeau. Yes, that's just how it was. Can anyone feature a man doing
+that for hours on end? If they didn't believe they could go see for
+themselves.
+
+On getting up the next morning, Gervaise promised herself she would not
+return to the Sainte-Anne again. What use would it be? She did not want
+to go off her head also. However, every ten minutes, she fell to musing
+and became absent-minded. It would be curious though, if he were still
+throwing his legs about. When twelve o'clock struck, she could no longer
+resist; she started off and did not notice how long the walk was, her
+brain was so full of her desire to go and the dread of what awaited her.
+
+Oh! there was no need for her to ask for news. She heard Coupeau's song
+the moment she reached the foot of the staircase. Just the same tune,
+just the same dance. She might have thought herself going up again after
+having only been down for a minute. The attendant of the day before, who
+was carrying some jugs of tisane along the corridor, winked his eye as
+he met her, by way of being amiable.
+
+"Still the same, then?" said she.
+
+"Oh! still the same!" he replied without stopping.
+
+She entered the room, but she remained near the door, because there were
+some people with Coupeau. The fair, rosy house surgeon was standing up,
+having given his chair to a bald old gentleman who was decorated and had
+a pointed face like a weasel. He was no doubt the head doctor, for his
+glance was as sharp and piercing as a gimlet. All the dealers in sudden
+death have a glance like that.
+
+No, really, it was not a pretty sight; and Gervaise, all in a tremble,
+asked herself why she had returned. To think that the evening before
+they accused her at the Boches' of exaggerating the picture! Now she saw
+better how Coupeau set about it, his eyes wide open looking into space,
+and she would never forget it. She overheard a few words between the
+house surgeon and the head doctor. The former was giving some details
+of the night: her husband had talked and thrown himself about, that was
+what it amounted to. Then the bald-headed old gentleman, who was not
+very polite by the way, at length appeared to become aware of her
+presence; and when the house surgeon had informed him that she was
+the patient's wife, he began to question her in the harsh manner of a
+commissary of the police.
+
+"Did this man's father drink?"
+
+"Yes, sir; just a little like everyone. He killed himself by falling
+from a roof one day when he was tipsy."
+
+"Did his mother drink?"
+
+"Well! sir, like everyone else, you know; a drop here, a drop there. Oh!
+the family is very respectable! There was a brother who died very young
+in convulsions."
+
+The doctor looked at her with his piercing eye. He resumed in his rough
+voice:
+
+"And you, you drink too, don't you?"
+
+Gervaise stammered, protested, and placed her hand upon her heart, as
+though to take her solemn oath.
+
+"You drink! Take care; see where drink leads to. One day or other you
+will die thus."
+
+Then she remained close to the wall. The doctor had turned his back
+to her. He squatted down, without troubling himself as to whether his
+overcoat trailed in the dust of the matting; for a long while he studied
+Coupeau's trembling, waiting for its reappearance, following it with his
+glance. That day the legs were going in their turn, the trembling had
+descended from the hands to the feet; a regular puppet with his strings
+being pulled, throwing his limbs about, whilst the trunk of his body
+remained as stiff as a piece of wood. The disease progressed little by
+little. It was like a musical box beneath the skin; it started off every
+three or four seconds and rolled along for an instant; then it stopped
+and then it started off again, just the same as the little shiver which
+shakes stray dogs in winter, when cold and standing in some doorway for
+protection. Already the middle of the body and the shoulders quivered
+like water on the point of boiling. It was a funny demolition all the
+same, going off wriggling like a girl being tickled.
+
+Coupeau, meanwhile, was complaining in a hollow voice. He seemed
+to suffer a great deal more than the day before. His broken murmurs
+disclosed all sorts of ailments. Thousands of pins were pricking him.
+He felt something heavy all about his body; some cold, wet animal was
+crawling over his thighs and digging its fangs into his flesh. Then
+there were other animals sticking to his shoulders, tearing his back
+with their claws.
+
+"I'm thirsty, oh! I'm thirsty!" groaned he continually.
+
+The house surgeon handed him a little lemonade from a small shelf;
+Coupeau seized the mug in both hands and greedily took a mouthful,
+spilling half the liquid over himself; but he spat it out at once with
+furious disgust, exclaiming:
+
+"Damnation! It's brandy!"
+
+Then, on a sign from the doctor, the house surgeon tried to make
+him drink some water without leaving go of the bottle. This time he
+swallowed the mouthful, yelling as though he had swallowed fire.
+
+"It's brandy; damnation! It's brandy!"
+
+Since the night before, everything he had had to drink was brandy. It
+redoubled his thirst and he could no longer drink, because everything
+burnt him. They had brought him some broth, but they were evidently
+trying to poison him, for the broth smelt of vitriol. The bread was sour
+and moldy. There was nothing but poison around him. The cell stank of
+sulphur. He even accused persons of rubbing matches under his nose to
+infect him.
+
+All on a sudden he exclaimed:
+
+"Oh! the rats, there're the rats now!"
+
+There were black balls that were changing into rats. These filthy
+animals got fatter and fatter, then they jumped onto the mattress and
+disappeared. There was also a monkey which came out of the wall, and
+went back into the wall, and which approached so near him each time,
+that he drew back through fear of having his nose bitten off. Suddenly
+there was another change, the walls were probably cutting capers, for he
+yelled out, choking with terror and rage:
+
+"That's it, gee up! Shake me, I don't care! Gee up! Tumble down! Yes,
+ring the bells, you black crows! Play the organ to prevent my calling
+the police. They've put a bomb behind the wall, the lousy scoundrels!
+I can hear it, it snorts, they're going to blow us up! Fire! Damnation,
+fire! There's a cry of fire! There it blazes. Oh, it's getting lighter,
+lighter! All the sky's burning, red fires, green fires, yellow fires.
+Hi! Help! Fire!"
+
+His cries became lost in a rattle. He now only mumbled disconnected
+words, foaming at the mouth, his chin wet with saliva. The doctor rubbed
+his nose with his finger, a movement no doubt habitual with him in the
+presence of serious cases. He turned to the house surgeon, and asked him
+in a low voice:
+
+"And the temperature, still the hundred degrees, is it not?"
+
+"Yes, sir."
+
+The doctor pursed his lips. He continued there another two minutes, his
+eyes fixed on Coupeau. Then he shrugged his shoulders, adding:
+
+"The same treatment, broth, milk, lemonade, and the potion of extract of
+quinine. Do not leave him, and call me if necessary."
+
+He went out and Gervaise followed him, to ask him if there was any
+hope. But he walked so stiffly along the corridor, that she did not dare
+approach him. She stood rooted there a minute, hesitating whether to
+return and look at her husband. The time she had already passed had been
+far from pleasant. As she again heard him calling out that the lemonade
+smelt of brandy, she hurried away, having had enough of the performance.
+In the streets, the galloping of the horses and the noise of the
+vehicles made her fancy that all the inmates of Saint-Anne were at
+her heels. And that the doctor had threatened her! Really, she already
+thought she had the complaint.
+
+In the Rue de la Goutte-d'Or the Boches and the others were naturally
+awaiting her. The moment she appeared they called her into the
+concierge's room. Well! was old Coupeau still in the land of the living?
+_Mon Dieu!_ yes, he still lived. Boche seemed amazed and confounded; he
+had bet a bottle that old Coupeau would not last till the evening. What!
+He still lived! And they all exhibited their astonishment, and slapped
+their thighs. There was a fellow who lasted! Madame Lorilleux reckoned
+up the hours; thirty-six hours and twenty-four hours, sixty hours.
+_Sacre Dieu!_ already sixty hours that he had been doing the jig and
+screaming! Such a feat of strength had never been seen before. But
+Boche, who was upset that he had lost the bet, questioned Gervaise with
+an air of doubt, asking her if she was quite sure he had not filed off
+behind her back. Oh! no, he had no desire to, he jumped about too much.
+Then Boche, still doubting, begged her to show them again a little how
+he was acting, just so they could see. Yes, yes, a little more! The
+request was general! The company told her she would be very kind if she
+would oblige, for just then two neighbors happened to be there who had
+not been present the day before, and who had come down purposely to see
+the performance. The concierge called to everybody to make room, they
+cleared the centre of the apartment, pushing one another with their
+elbows, and quivering with curiosity. Gervaise, however, hung down her
+head. Really, she was afraid it might upset her. Desirous though of
+showing that she did not refuse for the sake of being pressed, she tried
+two or three little leaps; but she became quite queer, and stopped;
+on her word of honor, she was not equal to it! There was a murmur of
+disappointment; it was a pity, she imitated it perfectly. However, she
+could not do it, it was no use insisting! And when Virginie left to
+return to her shop, they forgot all about old Coupeau and began to
+gossip about the Poissons and their home, a real mess now. The day
+before, the bailiffs had been; the policeman was about to lose his
+place; as for Lantier, he was now making up to the daughter of the
+restaurant keeper next door, a fine woman, who talked of setting up as a
+tripe-seller. Ah! it was amusing, everyone already beheld a tripe-seller
+occupying the shop; after the sweets should come something substantial.
+And that blind Poisson! How could a man whose profession required him to
+be so smart fail to see what was going on in his own home? They stopped
+talking suddenly when they noticed that Gervaise was off in a corner by
+herself imitating Coupeau. Her hands and feet were jerking. Yes, they
+couldn't ask for a better performance! Then Gervaise started as if
+waking from a dream and hurried away calling out good-night to everyone.
+
+On the morrow, the Boches saw her start off at twelve, the same as on
+the two previous days. They wished her a pleasant afternoon. That day
+the corridor at Sainte-Anne positively shook with Coupeau's yells and
+kicks. She had not left the stairs when she heard him yelling:
+
+"What a lot of bugs!--Come this way again that I may squash you!--Ah!
+they want to kill me! ah! the bugs!--I'm a bigger swell than the lot of
+you! Clear out, damnation! Clear out."
+
+For a moment she stood panting before the door. Was he then fighting
+against an army? When she entered, the performance had increased and was
+embellished even more than on previous occasions. Coupeau was a raving
+madman, the same as one sees at the Charenton mad-house! He was throwing
+himself about in the center of the cell, slamming his fists everywhere,
+on himself, on the walls, on the floor, and stumbling about punching
+empty space. He wanted to open the window, and he hid himself, defended
+himself, called, answered, produced all this uproar without the least
+assistance, in the exasperated way of a man beset by a mob of people.
+Then Gervaise understood that he fancied he was on a roof, laying down
+sheets of zinc. He imitated the bellows with his mouth, he moved the
+iron about in the fire and knelt down so as to pass his thumb along the
+edges of the mat, thinking that he was soldering it. Yes, his handicraft
+returned to him at the moment of croaking; and if he yelled so loud, if
+he fought on his roof, it was because ugly scoundrels were preventing
+him doing his work properly. On all the neighboring roofs were villains
+mocking and tormenting him. Besides that, the jokers were letting troops
+of rats loose about his legs. Ah! the filthy beasts, he saw them always!
+Though he kept crushing them, bringing his foot down with all his
+strength, fresh hordes of them continued passing, until they quite
+covered the roof. And there were spiders there too! He roughly pressed
+his trousers against his thigh to squash some big spiders which had
+crept up his leg. _Mon Dieu!_ he would never finish his day's work,
+they wanted to destroy him, his employer would send him to prison. Then,
+whilst making haste, he suddenly imagined he had a steam-engine in his
+stomach; with his mouth wide open, he puffed out the smoke, a dense
+smoke which filled the cell and found an outlet by the window; and,
+bending forward, still puffing, he looked outside of the cloud of smoke
+as it unrolled and ascended to the sky, where it hid the sun.
+
+"Look!" cried he, "there's the band of the Chaussee Clignancourt,
+disguised as bears with drums, putting on a show."
+
+He remained crouching before the window, as though he had been watching
+a procession in a street, from some rooftop.
+
+"There's the cavalcade, lions and panthers making grimaces--there's
+brats dressed up as dogs and cats--there's tall Clemence, with her wig
+full of feathers. Ah! _Mon Dieu!_ she's turning head over heels; she's
+showed everything--you'd better run, Duckie. Hey, the cops, leave her
+alone!--just you leave her alone--don't shoot! Don't shoot--"
+
+His voice rose, hoarse and terrified and he stooped down quickly, saying
+that the police and the military were below, men who were aiming at him
+with rifles. In the wall he saw the barrel of a pistol emerging, pointed
+at his breast. They had dragged the girl away.
+
+"Don't shoot! _Mon Dieu!_ Don't shoot!"
+
+Then, the buildings were tumbling down, he imitated the cracking of a
+whole neighborhood collapsing; and all disappeared, all flew off. But
+he had no time to take breath, other pictures passed with extraordinary
+rapidity. A furious desire to speak filled his mouth full of words which
+he uttered without any connection, and with a gurgling sound in his
+throat. He continued to raise his voice, louder and louder.
+
+"Hallow, it's you? Good-day! No jokes! Don't make me nuzzle your hair."
+
+And he passed his hand before his face, he blew to send the hairs away.
+The house surgeon questioned him.
+
+"Who is it you see?"
+
+"My wife, of course!"
+
+He was looking at the wall, with his back to Gervaise. The latter had a
+rare fright, and she examined the wall, to see if she also could catch
+sight of herself there. He continued talking.
+
+"Now, you know, none of your wheedling--I won't be tied down! You are
+pretty, you have got a fine dress. Where did you get the money for it,
+you cow? You've been at a party, camel! Wait a bit and I'll do for you!
+Ah! you're hiding your boy friend behind your skirts. Who is it? Stoop
+down that I may see. Damnation, it's him again!"
+
+With a terrible leap, he went head first against the wall; but the
+padding softened the blow. One only heard his body rebounding onto the
+matting, where the shock had sent him.
+
+"Who is it you see?" repeated the house surgeon.
+
+"The hatter! The hatter!" yelled Coupeau.
+
+And the house surgeon questioning Gervaise, the latter stuttered without
+being able to answer, for this scene stirred up within her all the
+worries of her life. The zinc-worker thrust out his fists.
+
+"We'll settle this between us, my lad. It's full time I did for you!
+Ah, you coolly come, with that virago on your arm, to make a fool of
+me before everyone. Well! I'm going to throttle you--yes, yes, I! And
+without putting any gloves on either! I'll stop your swaggering. Take
+that! And that! And that!"
+
+He hit about in the air viciously. Then a wild rage took possession of
+him. Having bumped against the wall in walking backwards, he thought he
+was being attacked from behind. He turned round, and fiercely hammered
+away at the padding. He sprang about, jumped from one corner to another,
+knocked his stomach, his back, his shoulder, rolled over, and picked
+himself up again. His bones seemed softened, his flesh had a sound like
+damp oakum. He accompanied this pretty game with atrocious threats, and
+wild and guttural cries. However the battle must have been going badly
+for him, for his breathing became quicker, his eyes were starting out of
+his head, and he seemed little by little to be seized with the cowardice
+of a child.
+
+"Murder! Murder! Be off with you both. Oh! you brutes, they're laughing.
+There she is on her back, the virago! She must give in, it's settled.
+Ah! the brigand, he's murdering her! He's cutting off her leg with his
+knife. The other leg's on the ground, the stomach's in two, it's full of
+blood. Oh! _Mon Dieu!_ Oh! _Mon Dieu!_"
+
+And, covered with perspiration, his hair standing on end, looking a
+frightful object, he retired backwards, violently waving his arms,
+as though to send the abominable sight from him. He uttered two
+heart-rending wails, and fell flat on his back on the mattress, against
+which his heels had caught.
+
+"He's dead, sir, he's dead!" said Gervaise, clasping her hands.
+
+The house surgeon had drawn near, and was pulling Coupeau into the
+middle of the mattress. No, he was not dead. They had taken his shoes
+off. His bare feet hung off the end of the mattress and they were
+dancing all by themselves, one beside the other, in time, a little
+hurried and regular dance.
+
+Just then the head doctor entered. He had brought two of his
+colleagues--one thin, the other fat, and both decorated like himself.
+All three stooped down without saying a word, and examined the man all
+over; then they rapidly conversed together in a low voice. They had
+uncovered Coupeau from his thighs to his shoulders, and by standing
+on tiptoe Gervaise could see the naked trunk spread out. Well! it was
+complete. The trembling had descended from the arms and ascended from
+the legs, and now the trunk itself was getting lively!
+
+"He's sleeping," murmured the head doctor.
+
+And he called the two others' attention to the man's countenance.
+Coupeau, his eyes closed, had little nervous twinges which drew up all
+his face. He was more hideous still, thus flattened out, with his jaw
+projecting, and his visage deformed like a corpse's that had suffered
+from nightmare; but the doctors, having caught sight of his feet, went
+and poked their noses over them, with an air of profound interest. The
+feet were still dancing. Though Coupeau slept the feet danced. Oh!
+their owner might snore, that did not concern them, they continued
+their little occupation without either hurrying or slackening. Regular
+mechanical feet, feet which took their pleasure wherever they found it.
+
+Gervaise having seen the doctors place their hands on her old man,
+wished to feel him also. She approached gently and laid a hand on his
+shoulder, and she kept it there a minute. _Mon Dieu!_ whatever was
+taking place inside? It danced down into the very depths of the flesh,
+the bones themselves must have been jumping. Quiverings, undulations,
+coming from afar, flowed like a river beneath the skin. When she pressed
+a little she felt she distinguished the suffering cries of the marrow.
+What a fearful thing, something was boring away like a mole! It must be
+the rotgut from l'Assommoir that was hacking away inside him. Well! his
+entire body had been soaked in it.
+
+The doctors had gone away. At the end of an hour Gervaise, who had
+remained with the house surgeon, repeated in a low voice:
+
+"He's dead, sir; he's dead!"
+
+But the house surgeon, who was watching the feet, shook his head. The
+bare feet, projecting beyond the mattress, still danced on. They were
+not particularly clean and the nails were long. Several more hours
+passed. All on a sudden they stiffened and became motionless. Then the
+house surgeon turned towards Gervaise, saying:
+
+"It's over now."
+
+Death alone had been able to stop those feet.
+
+When Gervaise got back to the Rue de la Goutte-d'Or she found at the
+Boches' a number of women who were cackling in excited tones. She
+thought they were awaiting her to have the latest news, the same as the
+other days.
+
+"He's gone," said she, quietly, as she pushed open the door, looking
+tired out and dull.
+
+But no one listened to her. The whole building was topsy-turvy. Oh!
+a most extraordinary story. Poisson had caught his wife with Lantier.
+Exact details were not known, because everyone had a different version.
+However, he had appeared just when they were not expecting him. Some
+further information was given, which the ladies repeated to one another
+as they pursed their lips. A sight like that had naturally brought
+Poisson out of his shell. He was a regular tiger. This man, who talked
+but little and who always seemed to walk with a stick up his back, had
+begun to roar and jump about. Then nothing more had been heard. Lantier
+had evidently explained things to the husband. Anyhow, it could not last
+much longer, and Boche announced that the girl of the restaurant was for
+certain going to take the shop for selling tripe. That rogue of a hatter
+adored tripe.
+
+On seeing Madame Lorilleux and Madame Lerat arrive, Gervaise repeated,
+faintly:
+
+"He's gone. _Mon Dieu!_ Four days' dancing and yelling--"
+
+Then the two sisters could not do otherwise than pull out their
+handkerchiefs. Their brother had had many faults, but after all he was
+their brother. Boche shrugged his shoulders and said, loud enough to be
+heard by everyone:
+
+"Bah! It's a drunkard the less."
+
+From that day, as Gervaise often got a bit befuddled, one of the
+amusements of the house was to see her imitate Coupeau. It was no longer
+necessary to press her; she gave the performance gratis, her hands and
+feet trembling as she uttered little involuntary shrieks. She must have
+caught this habit at Sainte-Anne from watching her husband too long.
+
+Gervaise lasted in this state several months. She fell lower and lower
+still, submitting to the grossest outrages and dying of starvation a
+little every day. As soon as she had four sous she drank and pounded
+on the walls. She was employed on all the dirty errands of the
+neighborhood. Once they even bet her she wouldn't eat filth, but she did
+it in order to earn ten sous. Monsieur Marescot had decided to turn her
+out of her room on the sixth floor. But, as Pere Bru had just been found
+dead in his cubbyhole under the staircase, the landlord had allowed her
+to turn into it. Now she roosted there in the place of Pere Bru. It
+was inside there, on some straw, that her teeth chattered, whilst her
+stomach was empty and her bones were frozen. The earth would not have
+her apparently. She was becoming idiotic. She did not even think of
+making an end of herself by jumping out of the sixth floor window on
+to the pavement of the courtyard below. Death had to take her little by
+little, bit by bit, dragging her thus to the end through the accursed
+existence she had made for herself. It was never even exactly known what
+she did die of. There was some talk of a cold, but the truth was she
+died of privation and of the filth and hardship of her ruined life.
+Overeating and dissoluteness killed her, according to the Lorilleuxs.
+One morning, as there was a bad smell in the passage, it was remembered
+that she had not been seen for two days, and she was discovered already
+green in her hole.
+
+It happened to be old Bazouge who came with the pauper's coffin under
+his arm to pack her up. He was again precious drunk that day, but
+a jolly fellow all the same, and as lively as a cricket. When he
+recognized the customer he had to deal with he uttered several
+philosophical reflections, whilst performing his little business.
+
+"Everyone has to go. There's no occasion for jostling, there's room for
+everyone. And it's stupid being in a hurry that just slows you up. All
+I want to do is to please everybody. Some will, others won't. What's
+the result? Here's one who wouldn't, then she would. So she was made to
+wait. Anyhow, it's all right now, and faith! She's earned it! Merrily,
+just take it easy."
+
+And when he took hold of Gervaise in his big, dirty hands, he was seized
+with emotion, and he gently raised this woman who had had so great a
+longing for his attentions. Then, as he laid her out with paternal care
+at the bottom of the coffin, he stuttered between two hiccoughs:
+
+"You know--now listen--it's me, Bibi-the-Gay, called the ladies'
+consoler. There, you're happy now. Go by-by, my beauty!"
+
+
+THE END
+
+
+
+
+
+End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of L'Assommoir, by Emile Zola
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+The Project Gutenberg EBook of L'Assommoir, by Emile Zola
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+Title: L'Assommoir
+
+Author: Emile Zola
+
+Release Date: August, 2005 [EBook #8600]
+[Yes, we are more than one year ahead of schedule]
+[This file was first posted on July 27, 2003]
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+
+*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK L'ASSOMMOIR ***
+
+
+
+
+Produced by John Bickers and Dagny
+
+
+
+
+                             L'ASSOMMOIR
+
+                                  BY
+
+                              EMILE ZOLA
+
+
+
+                              CHAPTER I.
+
+Gervaise had waited up for Lantier until two in the morning. Then,
+shivering from having remained in a thin loose jacket, exposed to the
+fresh air at the window, she had thrown herself across the bed,
+drowsy, feverish, and her cheeks bathed in tears.
+
+For a week past, on leaving the "Two-Headed Calf," where they took
+their meals, he had sent her home with the children and never
+reappeared himself till late at night, alleging that he had been in
+search of work. That evening, while watching for his return, she
+thought she had seen him enter the dancing-hall of the "Grand-
+Balcony," the ten blazing windows of which lighted up with the glare
+of a conflagration the dark expanse of the exterior Boulevards; and
+five or six paces behind him, she had caught sight of little Adele, a
+burnisher, who dined at the same restaurant, swinging her hands, as if
+she had just quitted his arm so as not to pass together under the
+dazzling light of the globes at the door.
+
+When, towards five o'clock, Gervaise awoke, stiff and sore, she broke
+forth into sobs. Lantier had not returned. For the first time he had
+slept away from home. She remained seated on the edge of the bed,
+under the strip of faded chintz, which hung from the rod fastened to
+the ceiling by a piece of string. And slowly, with her eyes veiled by
+tears, she glanced round the wretched lodging, furnished with a walnut
+chest of drawers, minus one drawer, three rush-bottomed chairs, and a
+little greasy table, on which stood a broken water-jug. There had been
+added, for the children, an iron bedstead, which prevented any one
+getting to the chest of drawers, and filled two-thirds of the room.
+Gervaise's and Lantier's trunk, wide open, in one corner, displayed
+its emptiness, and a man's old hat right at the bottom almost buried
+beneath some dirty shirts and socks; whilst, against the walls, above
+the articles of furniture, hung a shawl full of holes, and a pair of
+trousers begrimed with mud, the last rags which the dealers in second-
+hand clothes declined to buy. In the centre of the mantel-piece, lying
+between two odd zinc candle-sticks, was a bundle of pink pawn-tickets.
+It was the best room of the hotel, the first floor room, looking on to
+the Boulevard.
+
+The two children were sleeping side by side, with their heads on the
+same pillow. Claude, aged eight years, was breathing quietly, with his
+little hands thrown outside the coverlet; while Etienne, only four
+years old, was smiling, with one arm round his brother's neck! And
+bare-footed, without thinking to again put on the old shoes that had
+fallen on the floor, she resumed her position at the window, her eyes
+searching the pavements in the distance.
+
+The hotel was situated on the Boulevard de la Chapelle, to the left of
+the Barriere Poissonniere. It was a building of two stories high,
+painted a red, of the color of wine dregs, up to the second floor, and
+with shutters all rotted by the rain. Over a lamp with starred panes
+of glass, one could manage to read, between the two windows, the
+words, "Hotel Boncoeur, kept by Marsoullier," painted in big yellow
+letters, several pieces of which the moldering of the plaster had
+carried away. The lamp preventing her seeing, Gervaise raised herself
+on tiptoe, still holding the handkerchief to her lips. She looked to
+the right, towards the Boulevard Rochechouart, where groups of
+butchers, in aprons smeared with blood, were hanging about in front of
+the slaughter-houses; and the fresh breeze wafted occasionally a
+stench of slaughtered beasts. Looking to the left, she scanned a long
+avenue that ended nearly in front of her, where the white mass of the
+Lariboisiere Hospital was then in course of construction. Slowly, from
+one end of the horizon to the other, she followed the octroi wall,
+behind which she sometimes heard, during night time, the shrieks of
+persons being murdered; and she searchingly looked into the remote
+angles, the dark corners, black with humidity and filth, fearing to
+discern there Lantier's body, stabbed to death.
+
+She looked at the endless gray wall that surrounded the city with its
+belt of desolation. When she raised her eyes higher, she became aware
+of a bright burst of sunlight. The dull hum of the city's awakening
+already filled the air. Craning her neck to look at the Poissonniere
+gate, she remained for a time watching the constant stream of men,
+horses, and carts which flooded down from the heights of Montmartre
+and La Chapelle, pouring between the two squat octroi lodges. It was
+like a herd of plodding cattle, an endless throng widened by sudden
+stoppages into eddies that spilled off the sidewalks into the street,
+a steady procession of laborers on their way back to work with tools
+slung over their back and a loaf of bread under their arm. This human
+inundation kept pouring down into Paris to be constantly swallowed up.
+Gervaise leaned further out at the risk of falling when she thought
+she recognized Lantier among the throng. She pressed the handkerchief
+tighter against her mouth, as though to push back the pain within her.
+
+The sound of a young and cheerful voice caused her to leave the
+window.
+
+"So the old man isn't here, Madame Lantier?"
+
+"Why, no, Monsieur Coupeau," she replied, trying to smile.
+
+Coupeau, a zinc-worker who occupied a ten franc room on the top floor,
+having seen the door unlocked, had walked in as friends will do.
+
+"You know," he continued, "I'm now working over there in the hospital.
+What beautiful May weather, isn't it? The air is rather sharp this
+morning."
+
+And he looked at Gervaise's face, red with weeping. When he saw that
+the bed had not been slept in, he shook his head gently; then he went
+to the children's couch where they were sleeping, looking as rosy as
+cherubs, and, lowering his voice, he said,
+
+"Come, the old man's not been home, has he? Don't worry yourself,
+Madame Lantier. He's very much occupied with politics. When they were
+voting for Eugene Sue the other day, he was acting almost crazy. He
+has very likely spent the night with some friends blackguarding
+crapulous Bonaparte."
+
+"No, no," she murmured with an effort. "You don't think that. I know
+where Lantier is. You see, we have our little troubles like the rest
+of the world!"
+
+Coupeau winked his eye, to indicate he was not a dupe of this
+falsehood; and he went off, after offering to fetch her milk, if she
+did not care to go out: she was a good and courageous woman, and might
+count upon him on any day of trouble.
+
+As soon as he was gone, Gervaise again returned to the window. At the
+Barriere, the tramp of the drove still continued in the morning air:
+locksmiths in short blue blouses, masons in white jackets, house
+painters in overcoats over long smocks. From a distance the crowd
+looked like a chalky smear of neutral hue composed chiefly of faded
+blue and dingy gray. When one of the workers occasionally stopped to
+light his pipe the others kept plodding past him, without sparing a
+laugh or a word to a comrade. With cheeks gray as clay, their eyes
+were continually drawn toward Paris which was swallowing them one by
+one.
+
+At both corners of the Rue des Poissonniers however, some of the men
+slackened their pace as they neared the doors of the two wine-dealers
+who were taking down their shutters; and, before entering, they stood
+on the edge of the pavement, looking sideways over Paris, with no
+strength in their arms and already inclined for a day of idleness.
+Inside various groups were already buying rounds of drinks, or just
+standing around, forgetting their troubles, crowding up the place,
+coughing, spitting, clearing their throats with sip after sip.
+
+Gervaise was watching Pere Colombe's wineshop to the left of the
+street, where she thought she had seen Lantier, when a stout woman,
+bareheaded and wearing an apron called to her from the middle of the
+roadway:
+
+"Hey, Madame Lantier, you're up very early!"
+
+Gervaise leaned out. "Why! It's you, Madame Boche! Oh! I've got a lot
+of work to-day!"
+
+"Yes, things don't do themselves, do they?"
+
+The conversation continued between roadway and window. Madame Boche
+was concierge of the building where the "Two-Headed Calf" was on the
+ground floor. Gervaise had waited for Lantier more than once in the
+concierge's lodge, so as not to be alone at table with all the men who
+ate at the restaurant. Madame Boche was going to a tailor who was late
+in mending an overcoat for her husband. She mentioned one of her
+tenants who had come in with a woman the night before and kept
+everybody awake past three in the morning. She looked at Gervaise with
+intense curiosity.
+
+"Is Monsieur Lantier, then, still in bed?" she asked abruptly.
+
+"Yes, he's asleep," replied Gervaise, who could not avoid blushing.
+
+Madame Boche saw the tears come into her eyes; and, satisfied no
+doubt, she turned to go, declaring men to be a cursed, lazy set. As
+she went off, she called back:
+
+"It's this morning you go to the wash-house, isn't it? I've something
+to wash, too. I'll keep you a place next to me, and we can chat
+together." Then, as if moved with sudden pity, she added:
+
+"My poor little thing, you had far better not remain there; you'll
+take harm. You look quite blue with cold."
+
+Gervaise still obstinately remained at the window during two mortal
+hours, till eight o'clock. Now all the shops had opened. Only a few
+work men were still hurrying along.
+
+The working girls now filled the boulevard: metal polishers,
+milliners, flower sellers, shivering in their thin clothing. In small
+groups they chattered gaily, laughing and glancing here and there.
+Occasionally there would be one girl by herself, thin, pale, serious-
+faced, picking her way along the city wall among the puddles and the
+filth.
+
+After the working girls, the office clerks came past, breathing upon
+their chilled fingers and munching penny rolls. Some of them are gaunt
+young fellows in ill-fitting suits, their tired eyes still fogged from
+sleep. Others are older men, stooped and tottering, with faces pale
+and drawn from long hours of office work and glancing nervously at
+their watches for fear of arriving late.
+
+In time the Boulevards settle into their usual morning quiet. Old
+folks come out to stroll in the sun. Tired young mothers in bedraggled
+skirts cuddle babies in their arms or sit on a bench to change
+diapers. Children run, squealing and laughing, pushing and shoving.
+
+Then Gervaise felt herself choking, dizzy with anguish, all hopes
+gone; it seemed to her that everything was ended, even time itself,
+and that Lantier would return no more. Her eyes vacantly wandered from
+the old slaughter-house, foul with butchery and with stench, to the
+new white hospital which, through the yawning openings of its ranges
+of windows, disclosed the naked wards, where death was preparing to
+mow. In front of her on the other side of the octroi wall the bright
+heavens dazzled her, with the rising sun which rose higher and higher
+over the vast awaking city.
+
+The young woman was seated on a chair, no longer crying, and with her
+hands abandoned on her lap, when Lantier quietly entered the room.
+
+"It's you! It's you!" she cried, rising to throw herself upon his
+neck.
+
+"Yes, it's me. What of it?" he replied. "You are not going to begin
+any of your nonsense, I hope!"
+
+He had pushed her aside. Then, with a gesture of ill-humor he threw
+his black felt hat to the chest of drawers. He was a young fellow of
+twenty-six years of age, short and very dark, with a handsome figure,
+and slight moustaches which his hand was always mechanically twirling.
+He wore a workman's overalls and an old soiled overcoat, which he had
+belted tightly at the waist, and he spoke with a strong Provencal
+accent.
+
+Gervaise, who had fallen back on her chair, gently complained, in
+short sentences: "I've not had a wink of sleep. I feared some harm had
+happened to you. Where have you been? Where did you spend the night?
+For heaven's sake! Don't do it again, or I shall go crazy. Tell me
+Auguste, where have you been?"
+
+"Where I had business, of course," he returned shrugging his
+shoulders. "At eight o'clock, I was at La Glaciere, with my friend who
+is to start a hat factory. We sat talking late, so I preferred to
+sleep there. Now, you know, I don't like being spied upon, so just
+shut up!"
+
+The young woman recommenced sobbing. The loud voices and the rough
+movements of Lantier, who upset the chairs, had awakened the children.
+They sat up in bed, half naked, disentangling their hair with their
+tiny hands, and, hearing their mother weep, they uttered terrible
+screams, crying also with their scarcely open eyes.
+
+"Ah! there's the music!" shouted Lantier furiously. "I warn you, I'll
+take my hook! And it will be for good, this time. You won't shut up?
+Then, good morning! I'll return to the place I've just come from."
+
+He had already taken his hat from off the chest of drawers. But
+Gervaise threw herself before him, stammering: "No, no!"
+
+And she hushed the little ones' tears with her caresses, smoothed
+their hair, and soothed them with soft words. The children, suddenly
+quieted, laughing on their pillow, amused themselves by punching each
+other. The father however, without even taking off his boots, had
+thrown himself on the bed looking worn out, his face bearing signs of
+having been up all night. He did not go to sleep, he lay with his eyes
+wide open, looking round the room.
+
+"It's a mess here!" he muttered. And after observing Gervaise a
+moment, he malignantly added: "Don't you even wash yourself now?"
+
+Gervaise was twenty-two, tall and slim with fine features, but she was
+already beginning to show the strain of her hard life. She seemed to
+have aged ten years from the hours of agonized weeping. Lantier's mean
+remark made her mad.
+
+"You're not fair," she said spiritedly. "You well know I do all I can.
+It's not my fault we find ourselves here. I would like to see you,
+with two children, in a room where there's not even a stove to heat
+some water. When we arrived in Paris, instead of squandering your
+money, you should have made a home for us at once, as you promised."
+
+"Listen!" Lantier exploded. "You cracked the nut with me; it doesn't
+become you to sneer at it now!"
+
+Apparently not listening, Gervaise went on with her own thought. "If
+we work hard we can get out of the hole we're in. Madame Fauconnier,
+the laundress on Rue Neuve, will start me on Monday. If you work with
+your friend from La Glaciere, in six months we will be doing well.
+We'll have enough for decent clothes and a place we can call our own.
+But we'll have to stick with it and work hard."
+
+Lantier turned over towards the wall, looking greatly bored. Then
+Gervaise lost her temper.
+
+"Yes, that's it, I know the love of work doesn't trouble you much.
+You're bursting with ambition, you want to be dressed like a
+gentleman. You don't think me nice enough, do you, now that you've
+made me pawn all my dresses? Listen, Auguste, I didn't intend to speak
+of it, I would have waited a bit longer, but I know where you spent
+the night; I saw you enter the 'Grand-Balcony' with that trollop
+Adele. Ah! you choose them well! She's a nice one, she is! She does
+well to put on the airs of a princess! She's been the ridicule of
+every man who frequents the restaurant."
+
+At a bound Lantier sprang from the bed. His eyes had become as black
+as ink in his pale face. With this little man, rage blew like a
+tempest.
+
+"Yes, yes, of every man who frequents the restaurant!" repeated the
+young woman. "Madame Boche intends to give them notice, she and her
+long stick of a sister, because they've always a string of men after
+them on the staircase."
+
+Lantier raised his fists; then, resisting the desire of striking her,
+he seized hold of her by the arms, shook her violently and sent her
+sprawling upon the bed of the children, who recommenced crying. And he
+lay down again, mumbling, like a man resolving on something that he
+previously hesitated to do:
+
+"You don't know what you've done, Gervaise. You've made a big mistake;
+you'll see."
+
+For an instant the children continued sobbing. Their mother, who
+remained bending over the bed, held them both in her embrace, and kept
+repeating the same words in a monotonous tone of voice.
+
+"Ah! if it weren't for you! My poor little ones! If it weren't for
+you! If it weren't for you!"
+
+Stretched out quietly, his eyes raised to the faded strip of chintz,
+Lantier no longer listened, but seemed to be buried in a fixed idea.
+He remained thus for nearly an hour, without giving way to sleep, in
+spite of the fatigue which weighed his eyelids down.
+
+He finally turned toward Gervaise, his face set hard in determination.
+She had gotten the children up and dressed and had almost finished
+cleaning the room. The room looked, as always, dark and depressing
+with its sooty black ceiling and paper peeling from the damp walls.
+The dilapidated furniture was always streaked and dirty despite
+frequent dustings. Gervaise, devouring her grief, trying to assume a
+look of indifference, hurried over her work.
+
+Lantier watched as she tidied her hair in front of the small mirror
+hanging near the window. While she washed herself he looked at her
+bare arms and shoulders. He seemed to be making comparisons in his
+mind as his lips formed a grimace. Gervaise limped with her right leg,
+though it was scarcely noticeable except when she was tired. To-day,
+exhausted from remaining awake all night, she was supporting herself
+against the wall and dragging her leg.
+
+Neither one spoke, they had nothing more to say. Lantier seemed to be
+waiting, while Gervaise kept busy and tried to keep her countenance
+expressionless. Finally, while she was making a bundle of the dirty
+clothes thrown in a corner, behind the trunk, he at length opened his
+lips and asked:
+
+"What are you doing there? Where are you going?"
+
+She did not answer at first. Then, when he furiously repeated his
+question, she made up her mind, and said:
+
+"I suppose you can see for yourself. I'm going to wash all this. The
+children can't live in filth."
+
+He let her pick up two or three handkerchiefs. And, after a fresh
+pause, he resumed: "Have you got any money?"
+
+At these words she stood up and looked him full in the face, without
+leaving go of the children's dirty clothes, which she held in her
+hand.
+
+"Money! And where do you think I can have stolen any? You know well
+enough that I got three francs the day before yesterday on my black
+skirt. We've lunched twice off it, and money goes quick at the pork-
+butcher's. No, you may be quite sure I've no money. I've four sous for
+the wash-house. I don't have an extra income like some women."
+
+He let this allusion pass. He had moved off the bed, and was passing
+in review the few rags hanging about the room. He ended by taking up
+the pair of trousers and the shawl, and searching the drawers, he
+added two chemises and a woman's loose jacket to the parcel; then, he
+threw the whole bundle into Gervaise's arms, saying:
+
+"Here, go and pop this."
+
+"Don't you want me to pop the children as well?" asked she. "Eh! If
+they lent on children, it would be a fine riddance!"
+
+She went to the pawn-place, however. When she returned at the end of
+half an hour, she laid a hundred sou piece on the mantel-shelf, and
+added the ticket to the others, between the two candlesticks.
+
+"That's what they gave me," said she. "I wanted six francs, but I
+couldn't manage it. Oh! they'll never ruin themselves. And there's
+always such a crowd there!"
+
+Lantier did not pick up the five franc piece directly. He would
+rather that she got change, so as to leave her some of it. But he
+decided to slip it into his waistcoat pocket, when he noticed a small
+piece of ham wrapped up in paper, and the remains of a loaf on the
+chest of drawers.
+
+"I didn't dare go to the milkwoman's, because we owe her a week,"
+explained Gervaise. "But I shall be back early; you can get some bread
+and some chops whilst I'm away, and then we'll have lunch. Bring also
+a bottle of wine."
+
+He did not say no. Their quarrel seemed to be forgotten. The young
+woman was completing her bundle of dirty clothes. But when she went to
+take Lantier's shirts and socks from the bottom of the trunk, he
+called to her to leave them alone.
+
+"Leave my things, d'ye hear? I don't want 'em touched!"
+
+"What's it you don't want touched?" she asked, rising up. "I suppose
+you don't mean to put these filthy things on again, do you? They must
+be washed."
+
+She studied his boyishly handsome face, now so rigid that it seemed
+nothing could ever soften it. He angrily grabbed his things from her
+and threw them back into the trunk, saying:
+
+"Just obey me, for once! I tell you I won't have 'em touched!"
+
+"But why?" she asked, turning pale, a terrible suspicion crossing her
+mind. "You don't need your shirts now, you're not going away. What can
+it matter to you if I take them?"
+
+He hesitated for an instant, embarrassed by the piercing glance she
+fixed upon him. "Why--why--" stammered he, "because you go and tell
+everyone that you keep me, that you wash and mend. Well! It worries
+me, there! Attend to your own business and I'll attend to mine,
+washerwomen don't work for dogs."
+
+She supplicated, she protested she had never complained; but he
+roughly closed the trunk and sat down upon it, saying, "No!" to her
+face. He could surely do as he liked with what belonged to him! Then,
+to escape from the inquiring looks she leveled at him, he went and
+laid down on the bed again, saying that he was sleepy, and requesting
+her not to make his head ache with any more of her row. This time
+indeed, he seemed to fall asleep. Gervaise, for a while, remained
+undecided. She was tempted to kick the bundle of dirty clothes on one
+side, and to sit down and sew. But Lantier's regular breathing ended
+by reassuring her. She took the ball of blue and the piece of soap
+remaining from her last washing, and going up to the little ones who
+were quietly playing with some old corks in front of the window, she
+kissed them, and said in a low voice:
+
+"Be very good, don't make any noise; papa's asleep."
+
+When she left the room, Claude's and Etienne's gentle laughter alone
+disturbed the great silence beneath the blackened ceiling. It was ten
+o'clock. A ray of sunshine entered by the half open window.
+
+On the Boulevard, Gervaise turned to the left, and followed the Rue
+Neuve de la Goutte-d'Or. As she passed Madame Fauconnier's shop, she
+slightly bowed her head. The wash-house she was bound for was situated
+towards the middle of the street, at the part where the roadway
+commenced to ascend.
+
+The rounded, gray contours of the three large zinc wash tanks, studded
+with rivets, rose above the flat-roofed building. Behind them was the
+drying room, a high second story, closed in on all sides by narrow-
+slatted lattices so that the air could circulate freely, and through
+which laundry could be seen hanging on brass wires. The steam engine's
+smokestack exhaled puffs of white smoke to the right of the water
+tanks.
+
+Gervaise was used to puddles and did not bother to tuck her skirts up
+before making her way through the doorway, which was cluttered with
+jars of bleaching water. She was already acquainted with the mistress
+of the wash-house, a delicate little woman with red, inflamed eyes,
+who sat in a small glazed closet with account books in front of her,
+bars of soap on shelves, balls of blue in glass bowls, and pounds of
+soda done up in packets; and, as she passed, she asked for her beetle
+and her scouring-brush, which she had left to be taken care of the
+last time she had done her washing there. Then, after obtaining her
+number, she entered the wash-house.
+
+It was an immense shed, with large clear windows, and a flat ceiling,
+showing the beams supported on cast-iron pillars. Pale rays of light
+passed through the hot steam, which remained suspended like a milky
+fog. Smoke arose from certain corners, spreading about and covering
+the recesses with a bluish veil. A heavy moisture hung around,
+impregnated with a soapy odor, a damp insipid smell, continuous though
+at moments overpowered by the more potent fumes of the chemicals.
+Along the washing-places, on either side of the central alley, were
+rows of women, with bare arms and necks, and skirts tucked up, showing
+colored stockings and heavy lace-up shoes. They were beating
+furiously, laughing, leaning back to call out a word in the midst of
+the din, or stooping over their tubs, all of them brutal, ungainly,
+foul of speech, and soaked as though by a shower, with their flesh red
+and reeking.
+
+All around the women continuously flowed a river from hot-water
+buckets emptied with a sudden splash, cold-water faucets left
+dripping, soap suds spattering, and the dripping from rinsed laundry
+which was hung up. It splashed their feet and drained away across the
+sloping flagstones. The din of the shouting and the rhythmic beating
+was joined by the patter of steady dripping. It was slightly muffled
+by the moisture-soaked ceiling. Meanwhile, the steam engine could be
+heard as it puffed and snorted ceaselessly while cloaked in its white
+mist. The dancing vibration of its flywheel seemed to regulate the
+volume of the noisy turbulence.
+
+Gervaise passed slowly along the alley, looking to the right and left,
+carrying her laundry bundle under one arm, with one hip thrust high
+and limping more than usual. She was jostled by several women in the
+hubbub.
+
+"This way, my dear!" cried Madame Boche, in her loud voice. Then, when
+the young woman had joined her at the very end on the left, the
+concierge, who was furiously rubbing a dirty sock, began to talk
+incessantly, without leaving off her work. "Put your things there,
+I've kept your place. Oh, I sha'n't be long over what I've got. Boche
+scarcely dirties his things at all. And you, you won't be long either,
+will you? Your bundle's quite a little one. Before twelve o'clock we
+shall have finished, and we can go off to lunch. I used to send my
+things to a laundress in the Rue Poulet, but she destroyed everything
+with her chlorine and her brushes; so now I do the washing myself.
+It's so much saved; it only costs the soap. I say, you should have put
+those shirts to soak. Those little rascals of children, on my word!
+One would think their bodies were covered with soot."
+
+Gervaise, having undone her bundle, was spreading out the little ones'
+shirts, and as Madame Boche advised her to take a pailful of lye, she
+answered, "Oh, no! warm water will do. I'm used to it." She had sorted
+her laundry with several colored pieces to one side. Then, after
+filling her tub with four pails of cold water from the tap behind her,
+she plunged her pile of whites into it.
+
+"You're used to it?" repeated Madame Boche. "You were a washerwoman in
+your native place, weren't you, my dear?"
+
+Gervaise, with her sleeves pushed back, displayed the graceful arms of
+a young blonde, as yet scarcely reddened at the elbows, and started
+scrubbing her laundry. She spread a shirt out on the narrow rubbing
+board which was water-bleached and eroded by years of use. She rubbed
+soap into the shirt, turned it over, and soaped the other side. Before
+replying to Madame Boche she grasped her beetle and began to pound
+away so that her shouted phrases were punctuated with loud and
+rhythmic thumps.
+
+"Yes, yes, a washerwoman--When I was ten--That's twelve years ago--We
+used to go to the river--It smelt nicer there than it does here--You
+should have seen, there was a nook under the trees, with clear running
+water--You know, at Plassans--Don't you know Plassans?--It's near
+Marseilles."
+
+"How you go at it!" exclaimed Madame Boche, amazed at the strength of
+her blows. "You could flatten out a piece of iron with your little
+lady-like arms."
+
+The conversation continued in a very high volume. At times, the
+concierge, not catching what was said, was obliged to lean forward.
+All the linen was beaten, and with a will! Gervaise plunged it into
+the tub again, and then took it out once more, each article
+separately, to rub it over with soap a second time and brush it. With
+one hand she held the article firmly on the plank; with the other,
+which grasped the short couch-grass brush, she extracted from the
+linen a dirty lather, which fell in long drips. Then, in the slight
+noise caused by the brush, the two women drew together, and conversed
+in a more intimate way.
+
+"No, we're not married," resumed Gervaise. "I don't hide it. Lantier
+isn't so nice for any one to care to be his wife. If it weren't for
+the children! I was fourteen and he was eighteen when we had our first
+one. It happened in the usual way, you know how it is. I wasn't happy
+at home. Old man Macquart would kick me in the tail whenever he felt
+like it, for no reason at all. I had to have some fun outside. We
+might have been married, but--I forget why--our parents wouldn't
+consent."
+
+She shook her hands, which were growing red in the white suds. "The
+water's awfully hard in Paris."
+
+Madame Boche was now washing only very slowly. She kept leaving off,
+making her work last as long as she could, so as to remain there, to
+listen to that story, which her curiosity had been hankering to know
+for a fortnight past. Her mouth was half open in the midst of her big,
+fat face; her eyes, which were almost at the top of her head, were
+gleaming. She was thinking, with the satisfaction of having guessed
+right.
+
+"That's it, the little one gossips too much. There's been a row."
+
+Then, she observed out loud, "He isn't nice, then?"
+
+"Don't mention it!" replied Gervaise. "He used to behave very well in
+the country; but, since we've been in Paris, he's been unbearable. I
+must tell you that his mother died last year and left him some money--
+about seventeen hundred francs. He would come to Paris, so, as old
+Macquart was forever knocking me about without warning, I consented to
+come away with him. We made the journey with two children. He was to
+set me up as a laundress, and work himself at his trade of a hatter.
+We should have been very happy; but, you see, Lantier's ambitious and
+a spendthrift, a fellow who only thinks of amusing himself. In short,
+he's not worth much. On arriving, we went to the Hotel Montmartre, in
+the Rue Montmartre. And then there were dinners, and cabs, and the
+theatre; a watch for himself and a silk dress for me, for he's not
+unkind when he's got the money. You understand, he went in for
+everything, and so well that at the end of two months we were cleaned
+out. It was then that we came to live at the Hotel Boncoeur, and that
+this horrible life began."
+
+She interrupted herself. A lump had suddenly risen in her throat, and
+she could scarcely restrain her tears. She had finished brushing the
+things.
+
+"I must go and fetch my hot water," she murmured.
+
+But Madame Boche, greatly disappointed at this break off in the
+disclosures, called to the wash-house boy, who was passing, "My little
+Charles, kindly get madame a pail of hot water; she's in a hurry."
+
+The youth took the bucket and brought it back filled. Gervaise paid
+him; it was a sou the pailful. She poured the hot water into the tub,
+and soaped the things a last time with her hands, leaning over them in
+a mass of steam, which deposited small beads of grey vapor in her
+light hair.
+
+"Here put some soda in, I've got some by me," said the concierge,
+obligingly.
+
+And she emptied into Gervaise's tub what remained of a bag of soda
+which she had brought with her. She also offered her some of the
+chemical water, but the young woman declined it; it was only good for
+grease and wine stains.
+
+"I think he's rather a loose fellow," resumed Madame Boche, returning
+to Lantier, but without naming him.
+
+Gervaise, bent almost double, her hands all shriveled, and thrust in
+amongst the clothes, merely tossed her head.
+
+"Yes, yes," continued the other, "I have noticed several little
+things--" But she suddenly interrupted herself, as Gervaise jumped up,
+with a pale face, and staring wildly at her. Then she exclaimed, "Oh,
+no! I don't know anything! He likes to laugh a bit, I think, that's
+all. For instance, you know the two girls who lodge at my place, Adele
+and Virginie. Well; he larks about with 'em, but he just flirts for
+sport."
+
+The young woman standing before her, her face covered with
+perspiration, the water dripping from her arms, continued to stare at
+her with a fixed and penetrating look. Then the concierge got excited,
+giving herself a blow on the chest, and pledging her word of honor,
+she cried:
+
+"I know nothing, I mean it when I say so!"
+
+Then calming herself, she added in a gentle voice, as if speaking to a
+person on whom loud protestations would have no effect, "I think he
+has a frank look about the eyes. He'll marry you, my dear, I'm sure of
+it."
+
+Gervaise wiped her forehead with her wet hand. Shaking her head again,
+she pulled another garment out of the water. Both of them kept silence
+for a moment. The wash-house was quieting down, for eleven o'clock had
+struck. Half of the washerwomen were perched on the edge of their
+tubs, eating sausages between slices of bread and drinking from open
+bottles of wine. Only housewives who had come to launder small bundles
+of family linen were hurrying to finish.
+
+Occasional beetle blows could still be heard amid the subdued laughter
+and gossip half-choked by the greedy chewing of jawbones. The steam
+engine never stopped. Its vibrant, snorting voice seemed to fill the
+entire hall, though not one of the women even heard it. It was like
+the breathing of the wash-house, its hot breath collecting under the
+ceiling rafters in an eternal floating mist.
+
+The heat was becoming intolerable. Through the tall windows on the
+left sunlight was streaming in, touching the steamy vapors with
+opalescent tints of soft pinks and grayish blues. Charles went from
+window to window, letting down the heavy canvas awnings. Then he
+crossed to the shady side to open the ventilators. He was applauded by
+cries and hand clapping and a rough sort of gaiety spread around. Soon
+even the last of the beetle-pounding stopped.
+
+With full mouths, the washerwomen could only make gestures. It became
+so quiet that the grating sound of the fireman shoveling coal into
+the engine's firebox could be heard at regular intervals from far at
+the other end.
+
+Gervaise was washing her colored things in the hot water thick with
+lather, which she had kept for the purpose. When she had finished, she
+drew a trestle towards her and hung across it all the different
+articles; the drippings from which made bluish puddles on the floor;
+and she commenced rinsing. Behind her, the cold water tap was set
+running into a vast tub fixed to the ground, and across which were two
+wooden bars whereon to lay the clothes. High up in the air were two
+other bars for the things to finish dripping on.
+
+"We're almost finished, and not a bad job," said Madame Boche. "I'll
+wait and help you wring all that."
+
+"Oh! it's not worth while; I'm much obliged though," replied the young
+woman, who was kneading with her hands and sousing the colored things
+in some clean water. "If I'd any sheets, it would be another thing."
+
+But she had, however, to accept the concierge's assistance. They were
+wringing between them, one at each end, a woolen skirt of a washed-out
+chestnut color, from which dribbled a yellowish water, when Madame
+Boche exclaimed:
+
+"Why, there's tall Virginie! What has she come here to wash, when all
+her wardrobe that isn't on her would go into a pocket handkerchief?"
+
+Gervaise jerked her head up. Virginie was a girl of her own age,
+taller than she was, dark and pretty in spite of her face being rather
+long and narrow. She had on an old black dress with flounces, and a
+red ribbon round her neck; and her hair was done up carefully, the
+chignon being enclosed in a blue silk net. She stood an instant in the
+middle of the central alley, screwing up her eyes as though seeking
+someone; then, when she caught sight of Gervaise, she passed close to
+her, erect, insolent, and with a swinging gait, and took a place in
+the same row, five tubs away from her.
+
+"There's a freak for you!" continued Madame Boche in a lower tone of
+voice. "She never does any laundry, not even a pair of cuffs. A
+seamstress who doesn't even sew on a loose button! She's just like her
+sister, the brass burnisher, that hussy Adele, who stays away from her
+job two days out of three. Nobody knows who their folks are or how
+they make a living. Though, if I wanted to talk . . . What on earth is
+she scrubbing there? A filthy petticoat. I'll wager it's seen some
+lovely sights, that petticoat!"
+
+Madame Boche was evidently trying to make herself agreeable to
+Gervaise. The truth was she often took a cup of coffee with Adele and
+Virginia, when the girls had any money. Gervaise did not answer, but
+hurried over her work with feverish hands. She had just prepared her
+blue in a little tub that stood on three legs. She dipped in the linen
+things, and shook them an instant at the bottom of the colored water,
+the reflection of which had a pinky tinge; and after wringing them
+lightly, she spread them out on the wooden bars up above. During the
+time she was occupied with this work, she made a point of turning her
+back on Virginie. But she heard her chuckles; she could feel her
+sidelong glances. Virginie appeared only to have come there to provoke
+her. At one moment, Gervaise having turned around, they both stared
+into each other's faces.
+
+"Leave her alone," whispered Madame Boche. "You're not going to pull
+each other's hair out, I hope. When I tell you there's nothing to it!
+It isn't her, anyhow!"
+
+At this moment, as the young woman was hanging up the last article of
+clothing, there was a sound of laughter at the door of the wash-house.
+
+"Here are two brats who want their mamma!" cried Charles.
+
+All the women leant forward. Gervaise recognized Claude and Etienne.
+As soon as they caught sight of her, they ran to her through the
+puddles, the heels of their unlaced shoes resounding on the
+flagstones. Claude, the eldest, held his little brother by the hand.
+The women, as they passed them, uttered little exclamations of
+affection as they noticed their frightened though smiling faces. And
+they stood there, in front of their mother, without leaving go of each
+other's hands, and holding their fair heads erect.
+
+"Has papa sent you?" asked Gervaise.
+
+But as she stooped to tie the laces of Etienne's shoes, she saw the
+key of their room on one of Claude's fingers, with the brass number
+hanging from it.
+
+"Why, you've brought the key!" she said, greatly surprised. "What's
+that for?"
+
+The child, seeing the key which he had forgotten on his finger,
+appeared to recollect, and exclaimed in his clear voice:
+
+"Papa's gone away."
+
+"He's gone to buy the lunch, and told you to come here to fetch me?"
+
+Claude looked at his brother, hesitated, no longer recollecting. Then
+he resumed all in a breath: "Papa's gone away. He jumped off the bed,
+he put all the things in the trunk, he carried the trunk down to a
+cab. He's gone away."
+
+Gervaise, who was squatting down, slowly rose to her feet, her face
+ghastly pale. She put her hands to her cheeks and temples, as though
+she felt her head was breaking; and she could find only these words,
+which she repeated twenty times in the same tone of voice:
+
+"Ah! good heavens!--ah! good heavens!--ah! good heavens!"
+
+Madame Boche, however, also questioned the child, quite delighted at
+the chance of hearing the whole story.
+
+"Come, little one, you must tell us just what happened. It was he who
+locked the door and who told you to bring the key, wasn't it?" And,
+lowering her voice, she whispered in Claude's ear: "Was there a lady
+in the cab?"
+
+The child again got confused. Then he recommenced his story in a
+triumphant manner: "He jumped off the bed, he put all the things in
+the trunk. He's gone away."
+
+Then, when Madame Boche let him go, he drew his brother in front of
+the tap, and they amused themselves by turning on the water. Gervaise
+was unable to cry. She was choking, leaning back against her tub, her
+face still buried in her hands. Brief shudders rocked her body and she
+wailed out long sighs while pressing her hands tighter against her
+eyes, as though abandoning herself to the blackness of desolation, a
+dark, deep pit into which she seemed to be falling.
+
+"Come, my dear, pull yourself together!" murmured Madame Boche.
+
+"If you only knew! If you only knew!" said she at length very faintly.
+"He sent me this morning to pawn my shawl and my chemises to pay for
+that cab."
+
+And she burst out crying. The memory of the events of that morning and
+of her trip to the pawn-place tore from her the sobs that had been
+choking her throat. That abominable trip to the pawn-place was the
+thing that hurt most in all her sorrow and despair. Tears were
+streaming down her face but she didn't think of using her
+handkerchief.
+
+"Be reasonable, do be quiet, everyone's looking at you," Madame Boche,
+who hovered round her, kept repeating. "How can you worry yourself so
+much on account of a man? You loved him, then, all the same, did you,
+my poor darling? A little while ago you were saying all sorts of
+things against him; and now you're crying for him, and almost breaking
+your heart. Dear me, how silly we all are!"
+
+Then she became quite maternal.
+
+"A pretty little woman like you! Can it be possible? One may tell you
+everything now, I suppose. Well! You recollect when I passed under
+your window, I already had my suspicions. Just fancy, last night, when
+Adele came home, I heard a man's footsteps with hers. So I thought I
+would see who it was. I looked up the staircase. The fellow was
+already on the second landing; but I certainly recognized Monsieur
+Lantier's overcoat. Boche, who was on the watch this morning, saw him
+tranquilly nod adieu. He was with Adele, you know. Virginie has a
+situation now, where she goes twice a week. Only it's highly imprudent
+all the same, for they've only one room and an alcove, and I can't
+very well say where Virginie managed to sleep."
+
+She interrupted herself an instant, turned round, and then resumed,
+subduing her loud voice:
+
+"She's laughing at seeing you cry, that heartless thing over there.
+I'd stake my life that her washing's all a pretence. She's packed off
+the other two, and she's come here so as to tell them how you take
+it."
+
+Gervaise removed her hands from her face and looked. When she beheld
+Virginie in front of her, amidst three or four women, speaking low and
+staring at her, she was seized with a mad rage. Her arms in front of
+her, searching the ground, she stumbled forward a few paces. Trembling
+all over, she found a bucket full of water, grabbed it with both
+hands, and emptied it at Virginie.
+
+"The virago!" yelled tall Virginie.
+
+She had stepped back, and her boots alone got wet. The other women,
+who for some minutes past had all been greatly upset by Gervaise's
+tears, jostled each other in their anxiety to see the fight. Some, who
+were finishing their lunch, got on the tops of their tubs. Others
+hastened forward, their hands smothered with soap. A ring was formed.
+
+"Ah! the virago!" repeated tall Virginie. "What's the matter with her?
+She's mad!"
+
+Gervaise, standing on the defensive, her chin thrust out, her features
+convulsed, said nothing, not having yet acquired the Paris gift of
+street gab. The other continued:
+
+"Get out! This girl's tired of wallowing about in the country; she
+wasn't twelve years old when the soldiers were at her. She even lost
+her leg serving her country. That leg's rotting off."
+
+The lookers-on burst out laughing. Virginie, seeing her success,
+advanced a couple of steps, drawing herself up to her full height, and
+yelling louder than ever:
+
+"Here! Come a bit nearer, just to see how I'll settle you! Don't you
+come annoying us here. Do I even know her, the hussy? If she'd wetted
+me, I'd have pretty soon shown her battle, as you'd have seen. Let her
+just say what I've ever done to her. Speak, you vixen; what's been
+done to you?"
+
+"Don't talk so much," stammered Gervaise. "You know well enough. Some
+one saw my husband last night. And shut up, because if you don't I'll
+most certainly strangle you."
+
+"Her husband! That's a good one! As if cripples like her had husbands!
+If he's left you it's not my fault. Surely you don't think I've stolen
+him, do you? He was much too good for you and you made him sick. Did
+you keep him on a leash? Has anyone here seen her husband? There's a
+reward."
+
+The laughter burst forth again. Gervaise contented herself with
+continually murmuring in a low tone of voice:
+
+"You know well enough, you know well enough. It's your sister. I'll
+strangle her--your sister."
+
+"Yes, go and try it on with my sister," resumed Virginie sneeringly.
+"Ah! it's my sister! That's very likely. My sister looks a trifle
+different to you; but what's that to me? Can't one come and wash one's
+clothes in peace now? Just dry up, d'ye hear, because I've had enough
+of it!"
+
+But it was she who returned to the attack, after giving five or six
+strokes with her beetle, intoxicated by the insults she had been
+giving utterance to, and worked up into a passion. She left off and
+recommenced again, speaking in this way three times:
+
+"Well, yes! it's my sister. There now, does that satisfy you? They
+adore each other. You should just see them bill and coo! And he's left
+you with your children. Those pretty kids with scabs all over their
+faces! You got one of them from a gendarme, didn't you? And you let
+three others die because you didn't want to pay excess baggage on your
+journey. It's your Lantier who told us that. Ah! he's been telling
+some fine things; he'd had enough of you!"
+
+"You dirty jade! You dirty jade! You dirty jade!" yelled Gervaise,
+beside herself, and again seized with a furious trembling. She turned
+round, looking once more about the ground; and only observing the
+little tub, she seized hold of it by the legs, and flung the whole of
+the bluing at Virginie's face.
+
+"The beast! She's spoilt my dress!" cried the latter, whose shoulder
+was sopping wet and whose left hand was dripping blue. "Just wait, you
+wretch!"
+
+In her turn she seized a bucket, and emptied it over Gervaise. Then a
+formidable battle began. They both ran along the rows of tubs, seized
+hold of the pails that were full, and returned to dash the contents at
+each other's heads. And each deluge was accompanied by a volley of
+words. Gervaise herself answered now:
+
+"There, you scum! You got it that time. It'll help to cool you."
+
+"Ah! the carrion! That's for your filth. Wash yourself for once in
+your life."
+
+"Yes, yes, I'll wash the salt out of you, you cod!"
+
+"Another one! Brush your teeth, fix yourself up for your post to-night
+at the corner of the Rue Belhomme."
+
+They ended by having to refill the buckets at the water taps,
+continuing to insult each other the while. The initial bucketfuls were
+so poorly aimed as to scarcely reach their targets, but they soon
+began to splash each other in earnest. Virginie was the first to
+receive a bucketful in the face. The water ran down, soaking her back
+and front. She was still staggering when another caught her from the
+side, hitting her left ear and drenching her chignon which then came
+unwound into a limp, bedraggled string of hair.
+
+Gervaise was hit first in the legs. One pail filled her shoes full of
+water and splashed up to her thighs. Two more wet her even higher.
+Soon both of them were soaked from top to bottom and it was impossible
+to count the hits. Their clothes were plastered to their bodies and
+they looked shrunken. Water was dripping everywhere as from umbrellas
+in a rainstorm.
+
+"They look jolly funny!" said the hoarse voice of one of the women.
+
+Everyone in the wash-house was highly amused. A good space was left to
+the combatants, as nobody cared to get splashed. Applause and jokes
+circulated in the midst of the sluice-like noise of the buckets
+emptied in rapid succession! On the floor the puddles were running one
+into another, and the two women were wading in them up to their
+ankles. Virginie, however, who had been meditating a treacherous move,
+suddenly seized hold of a pail of lye, which one of her neighbors had
+left there and threw it. The same cry arose from all. Everyone thought
+Gervaise was scalded; but only her left foot had been slightly
+touched. And, exasperated by the pain, she seized a bucket, without
+troubling herself to fill it this time, and threw it with all her
+might at the legs of Virginie, who fell to the ground. All the women
+spoke together.
+
+"She's broken one of her limbs!"
+
+"Well, the other tried to cook her!"
+
+"She's right, after all, the blonde one, if her man's been taken from
+her!"
+
+Madame Boche held up her arms to heaven, uttering all sorts of
+exclamations. She had prudently retreated out of the way between two
+tubs; and the children, Claude and Etienne, crying, choking,
+terrified, clung to her dress with the continuous cry of "Mamma!
+Mamma!" broken by their sobs. When she saw Virginie fall she hastened
+forward, and tried to pull Gervaise away by her skirt, repeating the
+while,
+
+"Come now, go home! Be reasonable. On my word, it's quite upset me.
+Never was such a butchery seen before."
+
+But she had to draw back and seek refuge again between the two tubs,
+with the children. Virginie had just flown at Gervaise's throat. She
+squeezed her round the neck, trying to strangle her. The latter freed
+herself with a violent jerk, and in her turn hung on to the other's
+hair, as though she was trying to pull her head off. The battle was
+silently resumed, without a cry, without an insult. They did not seize
+each other round the body, they attacked each other's faces with open
+hands and clawing fingers, pinching, scratching whatever they caught
+hold of. The tall, dark girl's red ribbon and blue silk hair net were
+torn off. The body of her dress, giving way at the neck, displayed a
+large portion of her shoulder; whilst the blonde, half stripped, a
+sleeve gone from her loose white jacket without her knowing how, had a
+rent in her underlinen, which exposed to view the naked line of her
+waist. Shreds of stuff flew in all directions. It was from Gervaise
+that the first blood was drawn, three long scratches from the mouth to
+the chin; and she sought to protect her eyes, shutting them at every
+grab the other made, for fear of having them torn out. No blood showed
+on Virginie as yet. Gervaise aimed at her ears, maddened at not being
+able to reach them. At length she succeeded in seizing hold of one of
+the earrings--an imitation pear in yellow glass--which she pulled out
+and slit the ear, and the blood flowed.
+
+"They're killing each other! Separate them, the vixens!" exclaimed
+several voices.
+
+The other women had drawn nearer. They formed themselves into two
+camps. Some were cheering the combatants on as the others were
+trembling and turning their heads away saying that it was making them
+sick. A large fight nearly broke out between the two camps as the
+women called each other names and brandished their fists
+threateningly. Three loud slaps rang out.
+
+Madame Boche, meanwhile, was trying to discover the wash-house boy.
+
+"Charles! Charles! Wherever has he got to?"
+
+And she found him in the front rank, looking on with his arms folded.
+He was a big fellow, with an enormous neck. He was laughing and
+enjoying the sight of the skin which the two women displayed. The
+little blonde was as fat as a quail. It would be fun if her chemise
+burst open.
+
+"Why," murmured he, blinking his eye, "she's got a strawberry
+birthmark under her arm."
+
+"What! You're there!" cried Madame Boche, as she caught sight of him.
+"Just come and help us separate them. You can easily separate them,
+you can!"
+
+"Oh, no! thank you, not if I know it," said he coolly. "To get my eye
+scratched like I did the other day, I suppose! I'm not here for that
+sort of thing; I have enough to do without that. Don't be afraid, a
+little bleeding does 'em good; it'll soften 'em."
+
+The concierge then talked of fetching the police; but the mistress of
+the wash-house, the delicate young woman with the red, inflamed eyes,
+would not allow her to do this. She kept saying:
+
+"No, no, I won't; it'll compromise my establishment."
+
+The struggle on the ground continued. All on a sudden, Virginie raised
+herself up on her knees. She had just gotten hold of a beetle and held
+it on high. She had a rattle in her throat and in an altered voice,
+she exclaimed,
+
+"Here's something that'll settle you! Get your dirty linen ready!"
+
+Gervaise quickly thrust out her hand, and also seized a beetle, and
+held it up like a club; and she too spoke in a choking voice,
+
+"Ah! you want to wash. Let me get hold of your skin that I may beat it
+into dish-cloths!"
+
+For a moment they remained there, on their knees, menacing each other.
+Their hair all over their faces, their breasts heaving, muddy,
+swelling with rage, they watched one another, as they waited and took
+breath. Gervaise gave the first blow. Her beetle glided off Virginie's
+shoulder, and she at once threw herself on one side to avoid the
+latter's beetle, which grazed her hip. Then, warming to their work
+they struck at each other like washerwomen beating clothes, roughly,
+and in time. Whenever there was a hit, the sound was deadened, so that
+one might have thought it a blow in a tub full of water. The other
+women around them no longer laughed. Several had gone off saying that
+it quite upset them; those who remained stretched out their necks,
+their eyes lighted up with a gleam of cruelty, admiring the pluck
+displayed. Madame Boche had led Claude and Etienne away, and one could
+hear at the other end of the building the sound of their sobs, mingled
+with the sonorous shocks of the two beetles. But Gervaise suddenly
+yelled. Virginie had caught her a whack with all her might on her bare
+arm, just above the elbow. A large red mark appeared, the flesh at
+once began to swell. Then she threw herself upon Virginie, and
+everyone thought she was going to beat her to death.
+
+"Enough! Enough!" was cried on all sides.
+
+Her face bore such a terrible expression, that no one dared approach
+her. Her strength seemed to have increased tenfold. She seized
+Virginie round the waist, bent her down and pressed her face against
+the flagstones. Raising her beetle she commenced beating as she used
+to beat at Plassans, on the banks of the Viorne, when her mistress
+washed the clothes of the garrison. The wood seemed to yield to the
+flesh with a damp sound. At each whack a red weal marked the white
+skin.
+
+"Oh, oh!" exclaimed the boy Charles, opening his eyes to their full
+extent and gloating over the sight.
+
+Laughter again burst forth from the lookers-on, but soon the cry,
+"Enough! Enough!" recommenced. Gervaise heard not, neither did she
+tire. She examined her work, bent over it, anxious not to leave a dry
+place. She wanted to see the whole of that skin beaten, covered with
+contusions. And she talked, seized with a ferocious gaiety, recalling
+a washerwoman's song,
+
+  "Bang! Bang! Margot at her tub.
+   Bang! Bang! Beating rub-a-dub.
+   Bang! Bang! Tries to wash her heart.
+   Bang! Bang! Black with grief to part."
+
+And then she resumed,
+
+  "That's for you, that's for your sister.
+   That's for Lantier.
+   When you next see them,
+   You can give them that.
+   Attention! I'm going to begin again.
+   That's for Lantier, that's for your sister.
+   That's for you.
+   Bang! Bang! Margot at her tub.
+   Bang! Bang! Beating rub-a-dub--"
+
+The others were obliged to drag Virginie away from her. The tall, dark
+girl, her face bathed in tears and purple with shame, picked up her
+things and hastened away. She was vanquished. Gervaise slipped on the
+sleeve of her jacket again, and fastened up her petticoats. Her arm
+pained her a good deal, and she asked Madame Boche to place her bundle
+of clothes on her shoulder. The concierge referred to the battle,
+spoke of her emotions, and talked of examining the young woman's
+person, just to see.
+
+"You may, perhaps, have something broken. I heard a tremendous blow."
+
+But Gervaise wanted to go home. She made no reply to the pitying
+remarks and noisy ovation of the other women who surrounded her, erect
+in their aprons. When she was laden she gained the door, where the
+children awaited her.
+
+"Two hours, that makes two sous," said the mistress of the wash-house,
+already back at her post in the glazed closet.
+
+Why two sous? She no longer understood that she was asked to pay for
+her place there. Then she gave the two sous; and limping very much
+beneath the weight of the wet clothes on her shoulder, the water
+dripping from off her, her elbow black and blue, her cheek covered
+with blood, she went off, dragging Claude and Etienne with her bare
+arms, whilst they trotted along on either side of her, still
+trembling, and their faces besmeared with their tears.
+
+Once she was gone, the wash-house resumed its roaring tumult. The
+washerwomen had eaten their bread and drunk their wine. Their faces
+were lit up and their spirits enlivened by the fight between Gervaise
+and Virginie.
+
+The long lines of tubs were astir again with the fury of thrashing
+arms, of craggy profiles, of marionettes with bent backs and slumping
+shoulders that twisted and jerked violently as though on hinges.
+Conversations went on from one end to the other in loud voices.
+Laughter and coarse remarks crackled through the ceaseless gurgling of
+the water. Faucets were sputtering, buckets spilling, rivulets flowing
+underneath the rows of washboards. Throughout the huge shed rising
+wisps of steam reflected a reddish tint, pierced here and there by
+disks of sunlight, golden globes that had leaked through holes in the
+awnings. The air was stiflingly warm and odorous with soap.
+
+Suddenly the hall was filled with a white mist. The huge copper lid of
+the lye-water kettle was rising mechanically along a notched shaft,
+and from the gaping copper hollow within its wall of bricks came
+whirling clouds of vapor. Meanwhile, at one side the drying machines
+were hard at work; within their cast-iron cylinders bundles of laundry
+were being wrung dry by the centrifugal force of the steam engine,
+which was still puffing, steaming, jolting the wash-house with the
+ceaseless labor of its iron limbs.
+
+When Gervaise turned into the entry of the Hotel Boncoeur, her tears
+again mastered her. It was a dark, narrow passage, with a gutter for
+the dirty water running alongside the wall; and the stench which she
+again encountered there caused her to think of the fortnight she had
+passed in the place with Lantier--a fortnight of misery and quarrels,
+the recollection of which was now a bitter regret. It seemed to bring
+her abandonment home to her.
+
+Upstairs the room was bare, in spite of the sunshine which entered
+through the open window. That blaze of light, that kind of dancing
+golden dust, exposed the lamentable condition of the blackened
+ceiling, and of the walls half denuded of paper, all the more. The
+only thing left hanging in the room was a woman's small neckerchief,
+twisted like a piece of string. The children's bedstead, drawn into
+the middle of the apartment, displayed the chest of drawers, the open
+drawers of which exposed their emptiness. Lantier had washed himself
+and had used up the last of the pomatum--two sous' worth of pomatum in
+a playing card; the greasy water from his hands filled the basin. And
+he had forgotten nothing. The corner which until then had been filled
+by the trunk seemed to Gervaise an immense empty space. Even the little
+mirror which hung on the window-fastening was gone. When she made this
+discovery, she had a presentiment. She looked on the mantel-piece.
+Lantier had taken away the pawn tickets; the pink bundle was no longer
+there, between the two odd zinc candlesticks.
+
+She hung her laundry over the back of a chair and just stood there,
+gazing around at the furniture. She was so dulled and bewildered that
+she could no longer cry. She had only one sou left. Then, hearing
+Claude and Etienne laughing merrily by the window, their troubles
+already forgotten, she went to them and put her arms about them,
+losing herself for a moment in contemplation of that long gray avenue
+where, that very morning, she had watched the awakening of the working
+population, of the immense work-shop of Paris.
+
+At this hour immense heat was rising from the pavement and from all
+the furnaces in the factories, setting alight a reflecting oven over
+the city and beyond the octroi wall. Out upon this very pavement, into
+this furnace blast, she had been tossed, alone with her little ones.
+As she glanced up and down the boulevard, she was seized with a dull
+dread that her life would be fixed there forever, between a slaughter-
+house and a hospital.
+
+
+
+                             CHAPTER II.
+
+Three weeks later, towards half-past eleven, one beautiful sunshiny
+day, Gervaise and Coupeau, the zinc-worker, were each partaking of a
+plum preserved in brandy, at "l'Assommoir" kept by Pere Colombe.
+Coupeau, who had been smoking a cigarette on the pavement, had
+prevailed on her to go inside as she returned from taking home a
+customer's washing; and her big square laundress's basket was on the
+floor beside her, behind the little zinc covered table.
+
+Pere Colombe's l'Assommoir was at the corner of Rue des Poissonniers
+and Boulevard de Rochechouart. The sign, in tall blue letters
+stretching from one end to the other said: Distillery. Two dusty
+oleanders planted in half casks stood beside the doorway. A long bar
+with its tin measuring cups was on the left as you entered. The large
+room was decorated with casks painted a gay yellow, bright with
+varnish, and gleaming with copper taps and hoops.
+
+On the shelves above the bar were liquor bottles, jars of fruit
+preserved in brandy, and flasks of all shapes. They completely covered
+the wall and were reflected in the mirror behind the bar as colorful
+spots of apple green, pale gold, and soft brown. The main feature of
+the establishment, however, was the distilling apparatus. It was at
+the rear, behind an oak railing in a glassed-in area. The customers
+could watch its functioning, long-necked still-pots, copper worms
+disappearing underground, a devil's kitchen alluring to drink-sodden
+work men in search of pleasant dreams.
+
+L'Assommoir was nearly empty at the lunch hour. Pere Colombe, a heavy
+man of forty, was serving a ten year old girl who had asked him to
+place four sous' worth of brandy into her cup. A shaft of sunlight
+came through the entrance to warm the floor which was always damp from
+the smokers' spitting. From everything, the casks, the bar, the entire
+room, a liquorish odor arose, an alcoholic aroma which seemed to
+thicken and befuddle the dust motes dancing in the sunlight.
+
+Coupeau was making another cigarette. He was very neat, in a short
+blue linen blouse and cap, and was laughing and showing his white
+teeth. With a projecting under jaw and a slightly snub nose, he had
+handsome chestnut eyes, and the face of a jolly dog and a thorough
+good fellow. His coarse curly hair stood erect. His skin still
+preserved the softness of his twenty-six years. Opposite to him,
+Gervaise, in a thin black woolen dress, and bareheaded, was finishing
+her plum which she held by the stalk between the tips of her fingers.
+They were close to the street, at the first of the four tables placed
+alongside the barrels facing the bar.
+
+When the zinc-worker had lit his cigarette, he placed his elbows on
+the table, thrust his face forward, and for an instant looked without
+speaking at the young woman, whose pretty fair face had that day the
+milky transparency of china. Then, alluding to a matter known to
+themselves alone, and already discussed between them, he simply asked
+in a low voice:
+
+"So it's to be 'no'? you say 'no'?"
+
+"Oh! most decidedly 'no' Monsieur Coupeau," quietly replied Gervaise
+with a smile. "I hope you're not going to talk to me about that here.
+You know you promised me you would be reasonable. Had I known, I
+wouldn't have let you treat me."
+
+Coupeau kept silence, looking at her intently with a boldness. She sat
+still, at ease and friendly. At the end of a brief silence she added:
+
+"You can't really mean it. I'm an old woman; I've a big boy eight
+years old. Whatever could we two do together?"
+
+"Why!" murmured Coupeau, blinking his eyes, "what the others do, of
+course, get married!"
+
+She made a gesture of feeling annoyed. "Oh! do you think it's always
+pleasant? One can very well see you've never seen much of living. No,
+Monsieur Coupeau, I must think of serious things. Burdening oneself
+never leads to anything, you know! I've two mouths at home which are
+never tired of swallowing, I can tell you! How do you suppose I can
+bring up my little ones, if I only sit here talking indolently? And
+listen, besides that, my misfortune has been a famous lesson to me.
+You know I don't care a bit about men now. They won't catch me again
+for a long while."
+
+She spoke with such cool objectivity that it was clear she had
+resolved this in her mind, turning it about thoroughly.
+
+Coupeau was deeply moved and kept repeating: "I feel so sorry for you.
+It causes me a great deal of pain."
+
+"Yes, I know that," resumed she, "and I am sorry, Monsieur Coupeau.
+But you mustn't take it to heart. If I had any idea of enjoying
+myself, /mon Dieu!/, I would certainly rather be with you than anyone
+else. You're a good boy and gentle. Only, where's the use, as I've no
+inclination to wed? I've been for the last fortnight, now, at Madame
+Fauconnier's. The children go to school. I've work, I'm contented. So
+the best is to remain as we are, isn't it?"
+
+And she stooped down to take her basket.
+
+"You're making me talk; they must be expecting me at the shop. You'll
+easily find someone else prettier than I, Monsieur Coupeau, and who
+won't have two boys to drag about with her."
+
+He looked at the clock inserted in the frame-work of the mirror, and
+made her sit down again, exclaiming:
+
+"Don't be in such a hurry! It's only eleven thirty-five. I've still
+twenty-five minutes. You don't have to be afraid that I shall do
+anything foolish; there's the table between us. So you detest me so
+much that you won't stay and have a little chat with me."
+
+She put her basket down again, so as not to disoblige him; and they
+conversed like good friends. She had eaten her lunch before going out
+with the laundry. He had gulped down his soup and beef hurriedly to be
+able to wait for her. All the while she chatted amiably, Gervaise kept
+looking out the window at the activity on the street. It was now
+unusually crowded with the lunch time rush.
+
+Everywhere were hurried steps, swinging arms, and pushing elbows. Some
+late comers, hungry and angry at being kept extra long at the job,
+rushed across the street into the bakery. They emerged with a loaf of
+bread and went three doors farther to the Two-Headed Calf to gobble
+down a six-sou meat dish.
+
+Next door to the bakery was a grocer who sold fried potatoes and
+mussels cooked with parsley. A procession of girls went in to get hot
+potatoes wrapped in paper and cups of steaming mussels. Other pretty
+girls bought bunches of radishes. By leaning a bit, Gervaise could see
+into the sausage shop from which children issued, holding a fried
+chop, a sausage or a piece of hot blood pudding wrapped in greasy
+paper. The street was always slick with black mud, even in clear
+weather. A few laborers had already finished their lunch and were
+strolling aimlessly about, their open hands slapping their thighs,
+heavy from eating, slow and peaceful amid the hurrying crowd. A group
+formed in front of the door of l'Assommoir.
+
+"Say, Bibi-the-Smoker," demanded a hoarse voice, "aren't you going to
+buy us a round of /vitriol/?"
+
+Five laborers came in and stood by the bar.
+
+"Ah! Here's that thief, Pere Colombe!" the voice continued. "We want
+the real old stuff, you know. And full sized glasses, too."
+
+Pere Colombe served them as three more laborers entered. More blue
+smocks gathered on the street corner and some pushed their way into
+the establishment.
+
+"You're foolish! You only think of the present," Gervaise was saying
+to Coupeau. "Sure, I loved him, but after the disgusting way in which
+he left me--"
+
+They were talking of Lantier. Gervaise had not seen him again; she
+thought he was living with Virginie's sister at La Glaciere, in the
+house of that friend who was going to start a hat factory. She had no
+thought of running after him. She had been so distressed at first that
+she had thought of drowning herself in the river. But now that she had
+thought about it, everything seemed to be for the best. Lantier went
+through money so fast, that she probably never could have raised her
+children properly. Oh, she'd let him see his children, all right, if
+he bothered to come round. But as far as she was concerned, she didn't
+want him to touch her, not even with his finger tips.
+
+She told all this to Coupeau just as if her plan of life was well
+settled. Meanwhile, Coupeau never forgot his desire to possess her. He
+made a jest of everything she said, turning it into ribaldry and
+asking some very direct questions about Lantier. But he proceeded so
+gaily and which such a smile that she never thought of being offended.
+
+"So, you're the one who beat him," said he at length. "Oh! you're not
+kind. You just go around whipping people."
+
+She interrupted him with a hearty laugh. It was true, though, she had
+whipped Virginie's tall carcass. She would have delighted in
+strangling someone on that day. She laughed louder than ever when
+Coupeau told her that Virginie, ashamed at having shown so much
+cowardice, had left the neighborhood. Her face, however, preserved an
+expression of childish gentleness as she put out her plump hands,
+insisting she wouldn't even harm a fly.
+
+She began to tell Coupeau about her childhood at Plassans. She had
+never cared overmuch for men; they had always bored her. She was
+fourteen when she got involved with Lantier. She had thought it was
+nice because he said he was her husband and she had enjoyed playing a
+housewife. She was too soft-hearted and too weak. She always got
+passionately fond of people who caused her trouble later. When she
+loved a man, she wasn't thinking of having fun in the present; she was
+dreaming about being happy and living together forever.
+
+And as Coupeau, with a chuckle, spoke of her two children, saying they
+hadn't come from under a bolster, she slapped his fingers; she added
+that she was, no doubt made on the model of other women; women thought
+of their home, slaved to keep the place clean and tidy, and went to
+bed too tired at night not to go to sleep at once. Besides, she
+resembled her mother, a stout laboring woman who died at her work and
+who had served as beast of burden to old Macquart for more than twenty
+years. Her mother's shoulders had been heavy enough to smash through
+doors, but that didn't prevent her from being soft-hearted and madly
+attracted to people. And if she limped a little, she no doubt owed
+that to the poor woman, whom old Macquart used to belabor with blows.
+Her mother had told her about the times when Macquart came home drunk
+and brutally bruised her. She had probably been born with her lame leg
+as a result of one of those times.
+
+"Oh! it's scarcely anything, it's hardly perceptible," said Coupeau
+gallantly.
+
+She shook her head; she knew well enough that it could be seen; at
+forty she would look broken in two. Then she added gently, with a
+slight laugh: "It's a funny fancy of yours to fall in love with a
+cripple."
+
+With his elbows still on the table, he thrust his face closer to hers
+and began complimenting her in rather dubious language as though to
+intoxicate her with his words. But she kept shaking her head "no," and
+didn't allow herself to be tempted although she was flattered by the
+tone of his voice. While listening, she kept looking out the window,
+seeming to be fascinated by the interesting crowd of people passing.
+
+The shops were now almost empty. The grocer removed his last panful of
+fried potatoes from the stove. The sausage man arranged the dishes
+scattered on his counter. Great bearded workmen were as playful as
+young boys, clumping along in their hobnailed boots. Other workmen
+were smoking, staring up into the sky and blinking their eyes. Factory
+bells began to ring in the distance, but the workers, in no hurry,
+relit their pipes. Later, after being tempted by one wineshop after
+another, they finally decided to return to their jobs, but were still
+dragging their feet.
+
+Gervaise amused herself by watching three workmen, a tall fellow and
+two short ones who turned to look back every few yards; they ended by
+descending the street, and came straight to Pere Colombe's
+l'Assommoir.
+
+"Ah, well," murmured she, "there're three fellows who don't seem
+inclined for work!"
+
+"Why!" said Coupeau, "I know the tall one, it's My-Boots, a comrade of
+mine."
+
+Pere Colombe's l'Assommoir was now full. You had to shout to be heard.
+Fists often pounded on the bar, causing the glasses to clink. Everyone
+was standing, hands crossed over belly or held behind back. The
+drinking groups crowded close to one another. Some groups, by the
+casks, had to wait a quarter of an hour before being able to order
+their drinks of Pere Colombe.
+
+"Hallo! It's that aristocrat, Young Cassis!" cried My-Boots, bringing
+his hand down roughly on Coupeau's shoulder. A fine gentleman, who
+smokes paper, and wears shirts! So we want to do the grand with our
+sweetheart; we stand her little treats!"
+
+"Shut up! Don't bother me!" replied Coupeau, greatly annoyed.
+
+But the other added, with a chuckle, "Right you are! We know what's
+what, my boy. Muffs are muffs, that's all!"
+
+He turned his back after leering terribly as he looked at Gervaise.
+The latter drew back, feeling rather frightened. The smoke from the
+pipes, the strong odor of all those men, ascended in the air, already
+foul with the fumes of alcohol; and she felt a choking sensation in
+her throat, and coughed slightly.
+
+"Oh, what a horrible thing it is to drink!" said she in a low voice.
+
+And she related that formerly at Plassans she used to drink anisette
+with her mother. But on one occasion it nearly killed her, and that
+disgusted her with it; now, she could never touch any liqueurs.
+
+"You see," added she, pointing to her glass, "I've eaten my plum; only
+I must leave the juice, because it would make me ill."
+
+For himself, Coupeau couldn't understand how anyone could drink glass
+after glass of cheap brandy. A brandied plum occasionally could not
+hurt, but as for cheap brandy, absinthe and the other strong stuff,
+no, not for him, no matter how much his comrades teased him about it.
+He stayed out on the sidewalk when his friends went into low
+establishments. Coupeau's father had smashed his head open one day
+when he fell from the eaves of No. 25 on Rue Coquenard. He was drunk.
+This memory keep Coupeau's entire family from the drink. Every time
+Coupeau passed that spot, he thought he would rather lick up water
+from the gutter than accept a free drink in a bar. He would always
+say: "In our trade, you have to have steady legs."
+
+Gervaise had taken up her basket again. She did not rise from her seat
+however, but held the basket on her knees, with a vacant look in her
+eyes and lost in thought, as though the young workman's words had
+awakened within her far-off thoughts of existence. And she said again,
+slowly, and without any apparent change of manner:
+
+"/Mon Dieu/! I'm not ambitious; I don't ask for much. My desire is to
+work in peace, always to have bread to eat and a decent place to sleep
+in, you know; with a bed, a table, and two chairs, nothing more. If I
+can, I'd like to raise my children to be good citizens. Also, I'd like
+not to be beaten up, if I ever again live with a man. It's not my idea
+of amusement." She pondered, thinking if there was anything else she
+wanted, but there wasn't anything of importance. Then, after a moment
+she went on, "Yes, when one reaches the end, one might wish to die in
+one's bed. For myself, having trudged through life, I should like to
+die in my bed, in my own home."
+
+And she rose from her seat. Coupeau, who cordially approved her
+wishes, was already standing up, anxious about the time. But they did
+not leave yet. Gervaise was curious enough to go to the far end of the
+room for a look at the big still behind the oak railing. It was
+chugging away in the little glassed-in courtyard. Coupeau explained
+its workings to her, pointing at the different parts of the machinery,
+showing her the trickling of the small stream of limpid alcohol. Not a
+single gay puff of steam was coming forth from the endless coils. The
+breathing could barely be heard. It sounded muffled as if from
+underground. It was like a sombre worker, performing dark deeds in the
+bright daylight, strong but silent.
+
+My-Boots, accompanied by his two comrades, came to lean on the railing
+until they could get a place at the bar. He laughed, looking at the
+machine. /Tonnerre de Dieu/, that's clever. There's enough stuff in
+its big belly to last for weeks. He wouldn't mind if they just fixed
+the end of the tube in his mouth, so he could feel the fiery spirits
+flowing down to his heels like a river. It would be better than the
+tiny sips doled out by Pere Colombe! His two comrades laughed with
+him, saying that My-Boots was quite a guy after all.
+
+The huge still continued to trickle forth its alcoholic sweat.
+Eventually it would invade the bar, flow out along the outer
+Boulevards, and inundate the immense expanse of Paris.
+
+Gervaise stepped back, shivering. She tried to smile as she said:
+
+"It's foolish, but that still and the liquor gives me the creeps."
+
+Then, returning to the idea she nursed of a perfect happiness, she
+resumed: "Now, ain't I right? It's much the nicest isn't it--to have
+plenty of work, bread to eat, a home of one's own, and to be able to
+bring up one's children and to die in one's bed?"
+
+"And never to be beaten," added Coupeau gaily. "But I would never beat
+you, if you would only try me, Madame Gervaise. You've no cause for
+fear. I don't drink and then I love you too much. Come, shall it be
+marriage? I'll get you divorced and make you my wife."
+
+He was speaking low, whispering at the back of her neck while she made
+her way through the crowd of men with her basket held before her. She
+kept shaking her head "no." Yet she turned around to smile at him,
+apparently happy to know that he never drank. Yes, certainly, she
+would say "yes" to him, except she had already sworn to herself never
+to start up with another man. Eventually they reached the door and
+went out.
+
+When they left, l'Assommoir was packed to the door, spilling its
+hubbub of rough voices and its heavy smell of vitriol into the street.
+My-Boots could be heard railing at Pere Colombe, calling him a
+scoundrel and accusing him of only half filling his glass. He didn't
+have to come in here. He'd never come back. He suggested to his
+comrades a place near the Barriere Saint-Denis where you drank good
+stuff straight.
+
+"Ah," sighed Gervaise when they reached the sidewalk. "You can breathe
+out here. Good-bye, Monsieur Coupeau, and thank you. I must hurry
+now."
+
+He seized her hand as she started along the boulevard, insisting,
+"Take a walk with me along Rue de la Goutte-d'Or. It's not much
+farther for you. I've got to see my sister before going back to work.
+We'll keep each other company."
+
+In the end, Gervaise agreed and they walked beside each other along
+the Rue des Poissonniers, although she did not take his arm. He told
+her about his family. His mother, an old vest-maker, now had to do
+housekeeping because her eyesight was poor. Her birthday was the third
+of last month and she was sixty-two. He was the youngest. One of his
+sisters, a widow of thirty-six, worked in a flower shop and lived in
+the Batignolles section, on Rue des Moines. The other sister was
+thirty years old now. She had married a deadpan chainmaker named
+Lorilleux. That's where he was going now. They lived in a big tenement
+on the left side. He ate with them in the evenings; it saved a bit for
+all of them. But he had been invited out this evening and he was going
+to tell her not to expect him.
+
+Gervaise, who was listening to him, suddenly interrupted him to ask,
+with a smile: "So you're called 'Young Cassis,' Monsieur Coupeau?"
+
+"Oh!" replied he, "it's a nickname my mates have given me because I
+generally drink 'cassis' when they force me to accompany them to the
+wineshop. It's no worse to be called Young Cassis than My-Boots, is
+it?"
+
+"Of course not. Young Cassis isn't an ugly name," observed the young
+woman.
+
+And she questioned him about his work. He was still working there,
+behind the octroi wall at the new hospital. Oh! there was no want of
+work, he would not be finished there for a year at least. There were
+yards and yards of gutters!
+
+"You know," said he, "I can see the Hotel Boncoeur when I'm up there.
+Yesterday you were at the window, and I waved my arms, but you didn't
+notice me."
+
+They had already gone about a hundred paces along the Rue de la
+Goutte-d'Or, when he stood still and raising his eyes, said:
+
+"That's the house. I was born farther on, at No. 22. But this house
+is, all the same, a fine block of masonry! It's as big as a barrack
+inside!"
+
+Gervaise looked up, examining the facade. On the street side, the
+tenement had five stories, each with fifteen windows, whose black
+shutters with their broken slats gave an air of desolation to the wide
+expanse of wall. Four shops occupied the ground floor. To the right of
+the entrance, a large, greasy hash house, and to the left, a coal
+dealer, a notions seller, and an umbrella merchant. The building
+appeared even larger than it was because it had on each side a small,
+low building which seemed to lean against it for support. This
+immense, squared-off building was outlined against the sky. Its
+unplastered side walls were as bare as prison walls, except for rows
+of roughly jutting stones which suggested jaws full of decayed teeth
+yawning vacantly.
+
+Gervaise was gazing at the entrance with interest. The high, arched
+doorway rose to the second floor and opened onto a deep porch, at the
+end of which could be seen the pale daylight of a courtyard. This
+entranceway was paved like the street, and down the center flowed a
+streamlet of pink-stained water.
+
+"Come in," said Coupeau, "no one will eat you."
+
+Gervaise wanted to wait for him in the street. However, she could not
+resist going through the porch as far as the concierge's room on the
+right. And there, on the threshold, she raised her eyes. Inside, the
+building was six stories high, with four identical plain walls
+enclosing the broad central court. The drab walls were corroded by
+yellowish spots and streaked by drippings from the roof gutters. The
+walls went straight up to the eaves with no molding or ornament except
+the angles on the drain pipes at each floor. Here the sink drains
+added their stains. The glass window panes resembled murky water.
+Mattresses of checkered blue ticking were hanging out of several
+windows to air. Clothes lines stretched from other windows with family
+washing hanging to dry. On a third floor line was a baby's diaper,
+still implanted with filth. This crowded tenement was bursting at the
+seams, spilling out poverty and misery through every crevice.
+
+Each of the four walls had, at ground level, a narrow entrance,
+plastered without a trace of woodwork. This opened into a vestibule
+containing a dirt-encrusted staircase which spiraled upward. They were
+each labeled with one of the first four letters of the alphabet
+painted on the wall.
+
+Several large work-shops with weather-blackened skylights were
+scattered about the court. Near the concierge's room was the dyeing
+establishment responsible for the pink streamlet. Puddles of water
+infested the courtyard, along with wood shavings and coal cinders.
+Grass and weeds grew between the paving stones. The unforgiving
+sunlight seemed to cut the court into two parts. On the shady side was
+a dripping water tap with three small hens scratching for worms with
+their filth-smeared claws.
+
+Gervaise slowly gazed about, lowering her glance from the sixth floor
+to the paving stones, then raising it again, surprised at the
+vastness, feeling as it were in the midst of a living organ, in the
+very heart of a city, and interested in the house, as though it were a
+giant before her.
+
+"Is madame seeking for any one?" called out the inquisitive concierge,
+emerging from her room.
+
+The young woman explained that she was waiting for a friend. She
+returned to the street; then as Coupeau did not come, she went back to
+the courtyard seized with the desire to take another look. She did not
+think the house ugly. Amongst the rags hanging from the windows she
+discovered various cheerful touches--a wall-flower blooming in a pot,
+a cage of chirruping canaries, shaving-glasses shining like stars in
+the depth of the shadow. A carpenter was singing in his work-shop,
+accompanied by the whining of his plane. The blacksmith's hammers were
+ringing rhythmically.
+
+In contrast to the apparent wretched poverty, at nearly every open
+window appeared the begrimed faces of laughing children. Women with
+peaceful faces could be seen bent over their sewing. The rooms were
+empty of men who had gone back to work after lunch. The whole tenement
+was tranquil except for the sounds from the work-shops below which
+served as a sort of lullaby that went on, unceasingly, always the
+same.
+
+The only thing she did not like was the courtyard's dampness. She
+would want rooms at the rear, on the sunny side. Gervaise took a few
+more steps into the courtyard, inhaling the characteristic odor of the
+slums, comprised of dust and rotten garbage. But the sharp odor of the
+waste water from the dye shop was strong, and Gervaise thought it
+smelled better here than at the Hotel Boncoeur. She chose a window for
+herself, the one at the far left with a small window box planted with
+scarlet runners.
+
+"I'm afraid I've kept you waiting rather a long time," said Coupeau,
+whom she suddenly heard close beside her. "They always make an awful
+fuss whenever I don't dine with them, and it was worse than ever
+to-day as my sister had bought some veal."
+
+And as Gervaise had slightly started with surprise, he continued
+glancing around in his turn:
+
+"You were looking at the house. It's always all let from the top to
+the bottom. There are three hundred lodgers, I think. If I had any
+furniture, I would have secured a small room. One would be comfortable
+here, don't you think so?"
+
+"Yes, one would be comfortable," murmured Gervaise. "In our street at
+Plassans there weren't near so many people. Look, that's pretty--that
+window up on the fifth floor, with the scarlet runners."
+
+The zinc-worker's obstinate desire made him ask her once more whether
+she would or she wouldn't. They could rent a place here as soon as
+they found a bed. She hurried out the arched entranceway, asking him
+not to start that subject again. There was as much chance of this
+building collapsing as there was of her sleeping under the same
+blanket with him. Still, when Coupeau left her in front of Madame
+Fauconnier's shop, he was allowed to hold her hand for a moment.
+
+For a month the young woman and the zinc-worker were the best of
+friends. He admired her courage, when he beheld her half killing
+herself with work, keeping her children tidy and clean, and yet
+finding time at night to do a little sewing. Often other women were
+hopelessly messy, forever nibbling or gadding about, but she wasn't
+like them at all. She was much too serious. Then she would laugh, and
+modestly defend herself. It was her misfortune that she had not always
+been good, having been with a man when only fourteen. Then too, she
+had often helped her mother empty a bottle of anisette. But she had
+learned a few things from experience. He was wrong to think of her as
+strong-willed; her will power was very weak. She had always let
+herself be pushed into things because she didn't want to hurt
+someone's feelings. Her one hope now was to live among decent people,
+for living among bad people was like being hit over the head. It
+cracks your skull. Whenever she thought of the future, she shivered.
+Everything she had seen in life so far, especially when a child, had
+given her lessons to remember.
+
+Coupeau, however, chaffed her about her gloomy thoughts, and brought
+back all her courage by trying to pinch her hips. She pushed him away
+from her, and slapped his hands, whilst he called out laughingly that,
+for a weak woman, she was not a very easy capture. He, who always
+joked about everything did not trouble himself regarding the future.
+One day followed another, that was all. There would always be
+somewhere to sleep and a bite to eat. The neighborhood seemed decent
+enough to him, except for a gang of drunkards that ought to be cleaned
+out of the gutters.
+
+Coupeau was not a bad sort of fellow. He sometimes had really sensible
+things to say. He was something of a dandy with his Parisian working
+man's gift for banter, a regular gift of gab, and besides, he was
+attractive.
+
+They had ended by rendering each other all sorts of services at the
+Hotel Boncoeur. Coupeau fetched her milk, ran her errands, carried her
+bundles of clothes; often of an evening, as he got home first from
+work, he took the children for a walk on the exterior Boulevard.
+Gervaise, in return for his polite attentions, would go up into the
+narrow room at the top of the house where he slept, and see to his
+clothes, sewing buttons on his blue linen trousers, and mending his
+linen jackets. A great familiarity existed between them. She was never
+bored when he was around. The gay songs he sang amused her, and so did
+his continuous banter of jokes and jibes characteristic of the Paris
+streets, this being still new to her.
+
+On Coupeau's side, this continual familiarity inflamed him more and
+more until it began to seriously bother him. He began to feel tense
+and uneasy. He continued with his foolish talk, never failing to ask
+her, "When will it be?" She understood what he meant and teased him.
+He would then come to visit her carrying his bedroom slippers, as if
+he were moving in. She joked about it and continued calmly without
+blushing at the allusions with which he was always surrounding her.
+She stood for anything from him as long as he didn't get rough. She
+only got angry once when he pulled a strand of her hair while trying
+to force a kiss from her.
+
+Towards the end of June, Coupeau lost his liveliness. He became most
+peculiar. Gervaise, feeling uneasy at some of his glances, barricaded
+herself in at night. Then, after having sulked ever since the Sunday,
+he suddenly came on the Tuesday night about eleven o'clock and knocked
+at her room. She would not open to him; but his voice was so gentle
+and so trembling that she ended by removing the chest of drawers she
+had pushed against the door. When he entered, she thought he was ill;
+he looked so pale, his eyes were so red, and the veins on his face
+were all swollen. And he stood there, stuttering and shaking his head.
+No, no, he was not ill. He had been crying for two hours upstairs in
+his room; he wept like a child, biting his pillow so as not to be
+heard by the neighbors. For three nights past he had been unable to
+sleep. It could not go on like that.
+
+"Listen, Madame Gervaise," said he, with a swelling in his throat and
+on the point of bursting out crying again; "we must end this, mustn't
+we? We'll go and get married. It's what I want. I've quite made up my
+mind."
+
+Gervaise showed great surprise. She was very grave.
+
+"Oh! Monsieur Coupeau," murmured she, "whatever are you thinking of?
+You know I've never asked you for that. I didn't care about it--that
+was all. Oh, no, no! it's serious now; think of what you're saying, I
+beg of you."
+
+But he continued to shake his head with an air of unalterable
+resolution. He had already thought it all over. He had come down
+because he wanted to have a good night. She wasn't going to send him
+back to weep again he supposed! As soon as she said "yes," he would no
+longer bother her, and she could go quietly to bed. He only wanted to
+hear her say "yes." They could talk it over on the morrow.
+
+"But I certainly can't say 'yes' just like that," resumed Gervaise. "I
+don't want you to be able to accuse me later on of having incited you
+to do a foolish thing. You shouldn't be so insistent, Monsieur
+Coupeau. You can't really be sure that you're in love with me. If you
+didn't see me for a week, it might fade away. Sometimes men get
+married and then there's day after day, stretching out into an entire
+lifetime, and they get pretty well bored by it all. Sit down there;
+I'm willing to talk it over at once."
+
+Then until one in the morning, in the dark room and by the faint light
+of a smoky tallow candle which they forgot to snuff, they talked of
+their marriage, lowering their voices so as not to wake the two
+children, Claude and Etienne, who were sleeping, both heads on the
+same pillow. Gervaise kept pointing out the children to Coupeau, what
+a funny kind of dowry they were. She really shouldn't burden him with
+them. Besides, what would the neighbors say? She'd feel ashamed for
+him because everyone knew about the story of her life and her lover.
+They wouldn't think it decent if they saw them getting married barely
+two months later.
+
+Coupeau replied by shrugging his shoulders. He didn't care about the
+neighbors! He never bothered about their affairs. So, there was
+Lantier before him, well, so what? What's so bad about that? She
+hadn't been constantly bringing men upstairs, as some women did, even
+rich ladies! The children would grow up, they'd raise them right.
+Never had he known before such a woman, such sound character, so good-
+hearted. Anyway, she could have been anything, a streetwalker, ugly,
+lazy and good-for-nothing, with a whole gang of dirty kids, and so
+what? He wanted her.
+
+"Yes, I want you," he repeated, bringing his hand down on his knee
+with a continuos hammering. "You understand, I want you. There's
+nothing to be said to that, is there?"
+
+Little by little, Gervaise gave way. Her emotions began to take
+control when faced with his encompassing desire. Still, with her hands
+in her lap and her face suffused with a soft sweetness, she hesitantly
+offered objections. From outside, through the half-open window, a
+lovely June night breathed in puffs of sultry air, disturbing the
+candle with its long wick gleaming red like a glowing coal. In the
+deep silence of the sleeping neighborhood the only sound was the
+infantile weeping of a drunkard lying in the middle of the street. Far
+away, in the back room of some restaurant, a violin was playing a
+dance tune for some late party.
+
+Coupeau was silent. Then, knowing she had no more arguments, he
+smiled, took hold of her hands and pulled her toward him. She was in
+one of those moments of weakness she so greatly mistrusted, persuaded
+at last, too emotionally stirred to refuse anything or to hurt
+anyone's feelings. Coupeau didn't realize that she was giving way. He
+held her wrists so tightly as to almost crush them. Together they
+breathed a long sigh that to both of them meant a partial satisfaction
+of their desire.
+
+"You'll say 'yes,' won't you," asked he.
+
+"How you worry me!" she murmured. "You wish it? Well then, 'yes.' Ah!
+we're perhaps doing a very foolish thing."
+
+He jumped up, and, seizing her round the waist, kissed her roughly on
+the face, at random. Then, as this caress caused a noise, he became
+anxious, and went softly and looked at Claude and Etienne.
+
+"Hush, we must be careful," said he in a whisper, "and not wake the
+children. Good-bye till to-morrow."
+
+And he went back to his room. Gervaise, all in a tremble, remained
+seated on the edge of her bed, without thinking of undressing herself
+for nearly an hour. She was touched; she felt that Coupeau was very
+honorable; for at one moment she had really thought it was all over,
+and that he would forget her. The drunkard below, under the window,
+was now hoarsely uttering the plaintive cry of some lost animal. The
+violin in the distance had left off its saucy tune and was now silent.
+
+During the following days Coupeau sought to get Gervaise to call some
+evening on his sister in the Rue de la Goutte-d'Or; but the young
+woman, who was very timid, showed a great dread of this visit to the
+Lorilleux. She knew that Coupeau had a lingering fear of that
+household, even though he certainly wasn't dependent on his sister,
+who wasn't even the oldest of the family. Mamma Coupeau would
+certainly give her consent at once, as she never refused her only son
+anything. The thing was that the Lorilleuxs were supposed to be
+earning ten francs a day or more and that gave them a certain
+authority. Coupeau would never dare to get married unless his wife was
+acceptable to them.
+
+"I have spoken to them of you, they know our plans," explained he to
+Gervaise. "Come now! What a child you are! Let's call on them this
+evening. I've warned you, haven't I? You'll find my sister rather
+stiff. Lorilleux, too, isn't always very amiable. In reality they are
+greatly annoyed, because if I marry, I shall no longer take my meals
+with them, and it'll be an economy the less. But that doesn't matter,
+they won't turn you out. Do this for me, it's absolutely necessary."
+
+These words only frightened Gervaise the more. One Saturday evening,
+however, she gave in. Coupeau came for her at half-past eight. She had
+dressed herself in a black dress, a crape shawl with yellow palms, and
+a white cap trimmed with a little cheap lace. During the six weeks she
+had been working, she had saved the seven francs for the shawl, and
+the two and a half francs for the cap; the dress was an old one
+cleaned and made up afresh.
+
+"They're expecting you," said Coupeau to her, as they went round by
+the Rue des Poissonniers. "Oh! they're beginning to get used to the
+idea of my being married. They seem nice indeed, to-night. And you
+know if you've never seen gold chains made, it'll amuse you to watch
+them. They just happen to have a pressing order for Monday."
+
+"They've got gold in their room?" asked Gervaise.
+
+"I should think so; there's some on the walls, on the floor, in fact
+everywhere."
+
+They had passed the arched doorway and crossed the courtyard. The
+Lorilleuxs lived on the sixth floor, staircase B. Coupeau laughingly
+told her to hold the hand-rail tight and not to leave go of it. She
+looked up, and blinked her eyes, as she perceived the tall hollow
+tower of the staircase, lighted by three gas jets, one on every second
+landing; the last one, right up at the top looked like a star
+twinkling in a black sky, whilst the other two cast long flashes of
+light, of fantastic shapes, among the interminable windings of the
+stairs.
+
+"By Jove!" said the zinc-worker as he reached the first floor,
+smiling, "there's a strong smell of onion soup. Someone's having
+onion soup, I'm sure."
+
+Staircase B, with its gray, dirty steps and hand-rail, its scratched
+walls and chipped plaster, was full of strong kitchen odors. Long
+corridors, echoing with noise, led away from each landing. Doors,
+painted yellow, gaped open, smeared black around the latch from dirty
+hands. A sink on each landing gave forth a fetid humidity, adding its
+stench to the sharp flavor of the cooking of onions. From the
+basement, all the way to the sixth floor, you could hear dishes
+clattering, saucepans being rinsed, pots being scraped and scoured.
+
+On the first floor Gervaise saw a half-opened door with the word
+"Designer" written on it in large letters. Inside were two men sitting
+by a table, the dishes cleared away from its oilcloth cover, arguing
+furiously amid a cloud of pipe smoke. The second and third floors were
+quieter, and through cracks in the woodwork only such sounds filtered
+as the rhythm of a cradle rocking, the stifled crying of a child, a
+woman's voice sounding like the dull murmur of running water with no
+words distinct. Gervaise read the various signs on the doors giving
+the names of the occupants: "Madame Gaudron, wool-carder" and
+"Monsieur Madinier, cardboard boxes." There was a fight in progress on
+the fourth floor: a stomping of feet that shook the floor, furniture
+banged around, a racket of curses and blows; but this did not bother
+the neighbors opposite, who were playing cards with their door opened
+wide to admit more air.
+
+When Gervaise reached the fifth floor, she had to stop to take a
+breath; she was not used to going up so high; that wall for ever
+turning, the glimpses she had of the lodgings following each other,
+made her head ache. Anyway, there was a family almost blocking the
+landing: the father washing the dishes over a small earthenware stove
+near the sink and the mother sitting with her back to the stair-rail
+and cleaning the baby before putting it to bed.
+
+Coupeau kept urging Gervaise along, and they finally reached the sixth
+floor. He encouraged her with a smile; they had arrived! She had been
+hearing a voice all the way up from the bottom and she was gazing
+upward, wondering where it could be coming from, a voice so clear and
+piercing that it had dominated all the other sounds. It came from a
+little old woman in an attic room who sang while putting dresses on
+cheap dolls. When a tall girl came by with a pail of water and entered
+a nearby apartment, Gervaise saw a tumbled bed on which a man was
+sprawled, his eyes fixed on the ceiling. As the door closed behind
+her, Gervaise saw the hand-written card: "Mademoiselle Clemence,
+ironing."
+
+Now that she had finally made it to the top, her legs weary and her
+breath short, Gervaise leaned over the railing to look down. Now it
+was the gaslight on the first floor which seemed a distant star at the
+bottom of a narrow well six stories deep. All the odors and all the
+murmurings of the immense variety of life within the tenement came up
+to her in one stifling breath that flushed her face as she hazarded a
+worried glance down into the gulf below.
+
+"We're not there yet," said Coupeau. "Oh! It's quite a journey!"
+
+He had gone down a long corridor on the left. He turned twice, the
+first time also to the left, the second time to the right. The
+corridor still continued branching off, narrowing between walls full
+of crevices, with plaster peeling off, and lighted at distant
+intervals by a slender gas-jet; and the doors all alike, succeeded
+each other the same as the doors of a prison or a convent, and nearly
+all open, continued to display homes of misery and work, which the hot
+June evening filled with a reddish mist. At length they reached a
+small passage in complete darkness.
+
+"We're here," resumed the zinc-worker. "Be careful, keep to the wall;
+there are three steps."
+
+And Gervaise carefully took another ten steps in the obscurity. She
+stumbled and then counted the three steps. But at the end of the
+passage Coupeau had opened a door, without knocking. A brilliant light
+spread over the tiled floor. They entered.
+
+It was a narrow apartment, and seemed as if it were the continuation
+of the corridor. A faded woolen curtain, raised up just then by a
+string, divided the place in two. The first part contained a bedstead
+pushed beneath an angle of the attic ceiling, a cast-iron stove still
+warm from the cooking of the dinner, two chairs, a table and a
+wardrobe, the cornice of which had had to be sawn off to make it fit
+in between the door and the bedstead. The second part was fitted up as
+a work-shop; at the end, a narrow forge with its bellows; to the
+right, a vise fixed to the wall beneath some shelves on which pieces
+of old iron lay scattered; to the left near the window, a small
+workman's bench, encumbered with greasy and very dirty pliers, shears
+and microscopical saws, all very dirty and grimy.
+
+"It's us!" cried Coupeau advancing as far as the woolen curtain.
+
+But no one answered at first. Gervaise, deeply affected, moved
+especially by the thought that she was about to enter a place full of
+gold, stood behind the zinc-worker, stammering and venturing upon nods
+of her head by way of bowing. The brilliant light, a lamp burning on
+the bench, a brazier full of coals flaring in the forge, increased her
+confusion still more. She ended however, by distinguishing Madame
+Lorilleux--little, red-haired and tolerably strong, pulling with all
+the strength of her short arms, and with the assistance of a big pair
+of pincers, a thread of black metal which she passed through the holes
+of a draw-plate fixed to the vise. Seated in front of the bench,
+Lorilleux, quite as small of stature, but more slender in the
+shoulders, worked with the tips of his pliers, with the vivacity of a
+monkey, at a labor so minute, that it was impossible to follow it
+between his scraggy fingers. It was the husband who first raised his
+head--a head with scanty locks, the face of the yellow tinge of old
+wax, long, and with an ailing expression.
+
+"Ah! it's you; well, well!" murmured he. "We're in a hurry you know.
+Don't come into the work-room, you'd be in our way. Stay in the
+bedroom."
+
+And he resumed his minute task, his face again in the reflection of a
+glass globe full of green-colored water, through which the lamp shed a
+circle of bright light over his work.
+
+"Take the chairs!" called out Madame Lorilleux in her turn. "It's that
+lady, isn't it? Very well, very well!"
+
+She had rolled the wire and she carried it to the forge, and then,
+reviving the fire of the brazier with a large wooden fan, she
+proceeded to temper the wire before passing it through the last holes
+of the draw-plate.
+
+Coupeau moved the chairs forward and seated Gervaise by the curtain.
+The room was so narrow that he could not sit beside her, so he sat
+behind her, leaning over her shoulder to explain the work in progress.
+Gervaise was intimidated by this strange reception and felt uneasy.
+She had a buzzing in her ears and couldn't hear clearly. She thought
+the wife looked older than her thirty years and not very neat with her
+hair in a pigtail dangling down the back of her loosely worn wrapper.
+The husband, who was only a year older, appeared already an old man
+with mean, thin lips, as he sat there working in his shirt sleeves
+with his bare feet thrust into down at the heel slippers. Gervaise was
+dismayed by the smallness of the shop, the grimy walls, the rustiness
+of the tools, and the black soot spread all over what looked like the
+odds and ends of a scrap-iron peddler's wares.
+
+"And the gold?" asked Gervaise in a low voice.
+
+Her anxious glances searched the corners and sought amongst all that
+filth for the resplendence she had dreamt of. But Coupeau burst out
+laughing.
+
+"Gold?" said he; "why there's some; there's some more, and there's
+some at your feet!"
+
+He pointed successively to the fine wire at which his sister was
+working, and to another roll of wire, similar to the ordinary iron
+wire, hanging against the wall close to the vise; then going down on
+all fours, he picked up, beneath the wooden screen which covered the
+tiled floor of the work-room, a piece of waste, a tiny fragment
+resembling the point of a rusty needle. But Gervaise protested; that
+couldn't be gold, that blackish piece of metal as ugly as iron! He had
+to bite into the piece and show her the gleaming notch made by his
+teeth. Then he continued his explanations: the employers provided the
+gold wire, already alloyed; the craftsmen first pulled it through the
+draw-plate to obtain the correct size, being careful to anneal it five
+or six times to keep it from breaking. It required a steady, strong
+hand, and plenty of practice. His sister would not let her husband
+touch the wire-drawing since he was subject to coughing spells. She
+had strong arms for it; he had seen her draw gold to the fineness of a
+hair.
+
+Lorilleux, seized with a fit of coughing, almost doubled up on his
+stool. In the midst of the paroxysm, he spoke, and said in a choking
+voice, still without looking at Gervaise, as though he was merely
+mentioning the thing to himself:
+
+"I'm making the herring-bone chain."
+
+Coupeau urged Gervaise to get up. She might draw nearer and see. The
+chainmaker consented with a grunt. He wound the wire prepared by his
+wife round a mandrel, a very thin steel rod. Then he sawed gently,
+cutting the wire the whole length of the mandrel, each turn forming a
+link, which he soldered. The links were laid on a large piece of
+charcoal. He wetted them with a drop of borax, taken from the bottom
+of a broken glass beside him; and he made them red-hot at the lamp
+beneath the horizontal flame produced by the blow-pipe. Then, when he
+had soldered about a hundred links he returned once more to his minute
+work, propping his hands against the edge of the /cheville/, a small
+piece of board which the friction of his hands had polished. He bent
+each link almost double with the pliers, squeezed one end close,
+inserted it in the last link already in place and then, with the aid
+of a point opened out again the end he had squeezed; and he did this
+with a continuous regularity, the links joining each other so rapidly
+that the chain gradually grew beneath Gervaise's gaze, without her
+being able to follow, or well understand how it was done.
+
+"That's the herring-bone chain," said Coupeau. "There's also the long
+link, the cable, the plain ring, and the spiral. But that's the
+herring-bone. Lorilleux only makes the herring-bone chain."
+
+The latter chuckled with satisfaction. He exclaimed, as he continued
+squeezing the links, invisible between his black finger-nails.
+
+"Listen to me, Young Cassis! I was making a calculation this morning.
+I commenced work when I was twelve years old, you know. Well! Can you
+guess how long a herring-bone chain I must have made up till to-day?"
+
+He raised his pale face, and blinked his red eye-lids.
+
+"Twenty-six thousand feet, do you hear? Two leagues! That's something!
+A herring-bone chain two leagues long! It's enough to twist round the
+necks of all the women of the neighborhood. And you know, it's still
+increasing. I hope to make it long enough to reach from Paris to
+Versailles."
+
+Gervaise had returned to her seat, disenchanted and thinking
+everything very ugly. She smiled to be polite to the Lorilleuxs. The
+complete silence about her marriage bothered her. It was the sole
+reason for her having come. The Lorilleuxs were treating her as some
+stranger brought in by Coupeau. When a conversation finally did get
+started, it concerned the building's tenants. Madame Lorilleux asked
+her husband if he had heard the people on the fourth floor having a
+fight. They fought every day. The husband usually came home drunk and
+the wife had her faults too, yelling in the filthiest language. Then
+they spoke of the designer on the first floor, an uppity show-off with
+a mound of debts, always smoking, always arguing loudly with his
+friends. Monsieur Madinier's cardboard business was barely surviving.
+He had let two girl workers go yesterday. The business ate up all his
+money, leaving his children to run around in rags. And that Madame
+Gaudron was pregnant again; this was almost indecent at her age. The
+landlord was going to evict the Coquets on the fifth floor. They owed
+nine months' rent, and besides, they insisted on lighting their stove
+out on the landing. Last Saturday the old lady on the sixth floor,
+Mademoiselle Remanjou, had arrived just in time to save the Linguerlot
+child from being badly burned. Mademoiselle Clemence, one who took in
+ironing, well, she lived life as she pleased. She was so kind to
+animals though and had such a good heart that you couldn't say
+anything against her. It was a pity, a fine girl like her, the company
+she kept. She'd be walking the streets before long.
+
+"Look, here's one," said Lorilleux to his wife, giving her the piece
+of chain he had been working on since his lunch. "You can trim it."
+And he added, with the persistence of a man who does not easily
+relinquish a joke: "Another four feet and a half. That brings me
+nearer to Versailles."
+
+Madame Lorilleux, after tempering it again, trimmed it by passing it
+through the regulating draw-plate. Then she put it in a little copper
+saucepan with a long handle, full of lye-water, and placed it over the
+fire of the forge. Gervaise, again pushed forward by Coupeau, had to
+follow this last operation. When the chain was thoroughly cleansed, it
+appeared a dull red color. It was finished, and ready to be delivered.
+
+"They're always delivered like that, in their rough state," the zinc-
+worker explained. "The polishers rub them afterwards with cloths."
+
+Gervaise felt her courage failing her. The heat, more and more
+intense, was suffocating her. They kept the door shut, because
+Lorilleux caught cold from the least draught. Then as they still did
+not speak of the marriage, she wanted to go away and gently pulled
+Coupeau's jacket. He understood. Besides, he also was beginning to
+feel ill at ease and vexed at their affectation of silence.
+
+"Well, we're off," said he. "We mustn't keep you from your work."
+
+He moved about for a moment, waiting, hoping for a word or some
+allusion or other. At length he decided to broach the subject himself.
+
+"I say, Lorilleux, we're counting on you to be my wife's witness."
+
+The chainmaker pretended, with a chuckle, to be greatly surprised;
+whilst his wife, leaving her draw-plates, placed herself in the middle
+of the work-room.
+
+"So it's serious then?" murmured he. "That confounded Young Cassis,
+one never knows whether he is joking or not."
+
+"Ah! yes, madame's the person involved," said the wife in her turn, as
+she stared rudely at Gervaise. "/Mon Dieu!/ We've no advice to give
+you, we haven't. It's a funny idea to go and get married, all the
+same. Anyhow, it's your own wish. When it doesn't succeed, one's only
+got oneself to blame, that's all. And it doesn't often succeed, not
+often, not often."
+
+She uttered these last words slower and slower, and shaking her head,
+she looked from the young woman's face to her hands, and then to her
+feet as though she had wished to undress her and see the very pores of
+her skin. She must have found her better than she expected.
+
+"My brother is perfectly free," she continued more stiffly. "No doubt
+the family might have wished--one always makes projects. But things
+take such funny turns. For myself, I don't want to have any
+unpleasantness. Had he brought us the lowest of the low, I should
+merely have said: 'Marry her and go to blazes!' He was not badly off
+though, here with us. He's fat enough; one can very well see he didn't
+fast much; and he always found his soup hot right on time. I say,
+Lorilleux, don't you think madame's like Therese--you know who I mean,
+that woman who used to live opposite, and who died of consumption?"
+
+"Yes, there's a certain resemblance," replied the chainmaker.
+
+"And you've got two children, madame? Now, I must admit I said to my
+brother: 'I can't understand how you can want to marry a woman who's
+got two children.' You mustn't be offended if I consult his interests;
+its only natural. You don't look strong either. Don't you think,
+Lorilleux, that madame doesn't look very strong?"
+
+"No, no, she's not strong."
+
+They did not mention her leg; but Gervaise understood by their side
+glances, and the curling of their lips, that they were alluding to it.
+She stood before them, wrapped in her thin shawl with the yellow
+palms, replying in monosyllables, as though in the presence of her
+judges. Coupeau, seeing she was suffering, ended by exclaiming:
+
+"All that's nothing to do with it. What you are talking about isn't
+important. The wedding will take place on Saturday, July 29. I
+calculated by the almanac. Is it settled? Does it suit you?"
+
+"Oh, it's all the same to us," said his sister. "There was no
+necessity to consult us. I shan't prevent Lorilleux being witness. I
+only want peace and quiet."
+
+Gervaise, hanging her head, not knowing what to do with herself had
+put the toe of her boot through one of the openings in the wooden
+screen which covered the tiled floor of the work-room; then afraid of
+having disturbed something when she had withdrawn it, she stooped down
+and felt about with her hand. Lorilleux hastily brought the lamp, and
+he examined her fingers suspiciously.
+
+"You must be careful," said he, "the tiny bits of gold stick to the
+shoes, and get carried away without one knowing it."
+
+It was all to do with business. The employers didn't allow a single
+speck for waste. He showed her the rabbit's foot he used to brush off
+any flecks of gold left on the /cheville/ and the leather he kept on
+his lap to catch any gold that fell. Twice weekly the shop was swept
+out carefully, the sweepings collected and burned and the ashes
+sifted. This recovered up to twenty-five or thirty francs' worth of
+gold a month.
+
+Madame Lorilleux could not take her eyes from Gervaise's shoes.
+
+"There's no reason to get angry," murmured she with an amiable smile.
+"But, perhaps madame would not mind looking at the soles of her
+shoes."
+
+And Gervaise, turning very red, sat down again, and holding up her
+feet showed that there was nothing clinging to them. Coupeau had
+opened the door, exclaiming: "Good-night!" in an abrupt tone of voice.
+He called to her from the corridor. Then she in her turn went off,
+after stammering a few polite words: she hoped to see them again, and
+that they would all agree well together. Both of the Lorilleux had
+already gone back to their work at the far end of their dark hole of a
+work-room. Madame Lorilleux, her skin reflecting the red glow from the
+bed of coals, was drawing on another wire. Each effort swelling her
+neck and making the strained muscles stand out like taut cords. Her
+husband, hunched over beneath the greenish gleam of the globe was
+starting another length of chain, twisting each link with his pliers,
+pressing it on one side, inserting it into the next link above,
+opening it again with the pointed tool, continuously, mechanically,
+not wasting a motion, even to wipe the sweat from his face.
+
+When Gervaise emerged from the corridor on to the landing, she could
+not help saying, with tears in her eyes:
+
+"That doesn't promise much happiness."
+
+Coupeau shook his head furiously. He would get even with Lorilleux for
+that evening. Had anyone ever seen such a miserly fellow? To think
+that they were going to walk off with two or three grains of his gold
+dust! All the fuss they made was from pure avarice. His sister thought
+perhaps that he would never marry, so as to enable her to economize
+four sous on her dinner every day. However, it would take place all
+the same on July 29. He did not care a hang for them!
+
+Nevertheless, Gervaise still felt depressed. Tormented by a foolish
+fearfulness, she peered anxiously into every dark shadow along the
+stair-rail as she descended. It was dark and deserted at this hour,
+lit only by a single gas jet on the second floor. In the shadowy
+depths of the dark pit, it gave a spot of brightness, even with its
+flamed turned so low. It was now silent behind the closed doors; the
+weary laborers had gone to sleep after eating. However, there was a
+soft laugh from Mademoiselle Clemence's room and a ray of light shone
+through the keyhole of Mademoiselle Remanjou's door. She was still
+busy cutting out dresses for the dolls. Downstairs at Madame
+Gaudron's, a child was crying. The sinks on the landings smelled more
+offensive than ever in the midst of the darkness and stillness.
+
+In the courtyard, Gervaise turned back for a last look at the tenement
+as Coupeau called out to the concierge. The building seemed to have
+grown larger under the moonless sky. The drip-drip of water from the
+faucet sounded loud in the quiet. Gervaise felt that the building was
+threatening to suffocate her and a chill went through her body. It was
+a childish fear and she smiled at it a moment later.
+
+"Watch your step," warned Coupeau.
+
+To get to the entrance, Gervaise had to jump over a wide puddle that
+had drained from the dye shop. The puddle was blue now, the deep blue
+of a summer sky. The reflections from the night light of the concierge
+sparkled in it like stars.
+
+
+
+                             CHAPTER III.
+
+Gervaise did not want to have a wedding-party! What was the use of
+spending money? Besides, she still felt somewhat ashamed; it seemed to
+her quite unnecessary to parade the marriage before the whole
+neighborhood. But Coupeau cried out at that. One could not be married
+without having a feed. He did not care a button for the people of the
+neighborhood! Nothing elaborate, just a short walk and a rabbit ragout
+in the first eating-house they fancied. No music with dessert. Just a
+glass or two and then back home.
+
+The zinc-worker, chaffing and joking, at length got the young woman to
+consent by promising her that there should be no larks. He would keep
+his eye on the glasses, to prevent sunstrokes. Then he organized a
+sort of picnic at five francs a head, at the "Silver Windmill," kept
+by Auguste, on the Boulevard de la Chapelle. It was a small cafe with
+moderate charges and had a dancing place in the rear, beneath the
+three acacias in the courtyard. They would be very comfortable on the
+first floor. During the next ten days, he got hold of guests in the
+house where his sister lived in the Rue de la Goutte-d'Or--Monsieur
+Madinier, Mademoiselle Remanjou, Madame Gaudron and her husband. He
+even ended by getting Gervaise to consent to the presence of two of
+his comrades--Bibi-the-Smoker and My-Boots. No doubt My-Boots was a
+boozer; but then he had such a fantastic appetite that he was always
+asked to join those sort of gatherings, just for the sight of the
+caterer's mug when he beheld that bottomless pit swallowing his twelve
+pounds of bread. The young woman on her side, promised to bring her
+employer Madame Fauconnier and the Boches, some very agreeable people.
+On counting, they found there would be fifteen to sit down to table,
+which was quite enough. When there are too many, they always wind up
+by quarrelling.
+
+Coupeau however, had no money. Without wishing to show off, he
+intended to behave handsomely. He borrowed fifty francs of his
+employer. Out of that, he first of all purchased the wedding-ring--a
+twelve franc gold wedding-ring, which Lorilleux procured for him at
+the wholesale price of nine francs. He then bought himself a frock
+coat, a pair of trousers and a waistcoat at a tailor's in the Rue
+Myrrha, to whom he gave merely twenty-five francs on account; his
+patent leather shoes and his hat were still good enough. When he had
+put by the ten francs for his and Gervaise's share of the feast--the
+two children not being charged for--he had exactly six francs left--
+the price of a low mass at the altar of the poor. He had no liking for
+those black crows, the priests. It would gripe him to pay his last six
+francs to keep their whistles wet; however, a marriage without a mass
+wasn't a real marriage at all.
+
+Going to the church himself, he bargained for a whole hour with a
+little old priest in a dirty cassock who was as sharp at dealing as a
+push-cart peddler. Coupeau felt like boxing his ears. For a joke, he
+asked the priest if he didn't have a second-hand mass that would do
+for a modest young couple. The priest, mumbling that God would take
+small pleasure in blessing their union, finally let his have his mass
+for five francs. Well after all, that meant twenty sous saved.
+
+Gervaise also wanted to look decent. As soon as the marriage was
+settled, she made her arrangements, worked extra time in the evenings,
+and managed to put thirty francs on one side. She had a great longing
+for a little silk mantle marked thirteen francs in the Rue du Faubourg
+Poissonniere. She treated herself to it, and then bought for ten
+francs of the husband of a washerwoman who had died in Madame
+Fauconnier's house a blue woolen dress, which she altered to fit
+herself. With the seven francs remaining she procured a pair of cotton
+gloves, a rose for her cap, and some shoes for Claude, her eldest boy.
+Fortunately the youngsters' blouses were passable. She spent four
+nights cleaning everything, and mending the smallest holes in her
+stockings and chemise.
+
+On Friday night, the eve of the great day, Gervaise and Coupeau had
+still a good deal of running about to do up till eleven o'clock, after
+returning home from work. Then before separating for the night they
+spent an hour together in the young woman's room, happy at being about
+to be released from their awkward position. In spite of the fact that
+they had originally resolved not to put themselves out to impress the
+neighbors, they had ended by taking it seriously and working
+themselves till they were weary. By the time they said "Good-night,"
+they were almost asleep on their feet. They breathed a great sigh of
+relief now that everything was ready.
+
+Coupeau's witnesses were to be Monsieur Madinier and Bibi-the-Smoker.
+They were counting on Lorilleux and Boche for Gervaise's witnesses.
+They were to go quietly to the mayor's office and the church, just the
+six of them, without a whole procession of people trailing behind
+them. The bridegroom's two sisters had even declared that they would
+stay home, their presence not being necessary. Coupeau's mother,
+however, had sobbed and wailed, threatening to go ahead of them and
+hide herself in some corner of the church, until they had promised to
+take her along. The meeting of the guests was set for one o'clock at
+the Silver Windmill. From there, they would go to Saint-Denis, going
+out by railroad and returning on foot along the highway in order to
+work up an appetite. The party promised to be quite all right.
+
+Saturday morning, while getting dressed, Coupeau felt a qualm of
+uneasiness in view of the single franc in his pocket. He began to
+think that it was a matter of ordinary courtesy to offer a glass of
+wine and a slice of ham to the witnesses while awaiting dinner. Also,
+there might be unforeseen expenses. So, after taking Claude and
+Etienne to stay with Madame Boche, who was to bring them to the dinner
+later that afternoon, he hurried over to the Rue de la Goutte-d'Or to
+borrow ten francs from Lorilleux. Having to do that griped him
+immensely as he could guess the attitude his brother-in-law would
+take. The latter did grumble a bit, but ended by lending him two five-
+franc pieces. However, Coupeau overheard his sister muttering under
+her breath, "This is a fine beginning."
+
+The ceremony at the mayor's was to take place at half-past ten. It was
+beautiful weather--a magnificent sun seemed to roast the streets. So
+as not to be stared at the bride and bridegroom, the old mother, and
+the four witnesses separated into two bands. Gervaise walked in front
+with Lorilleux, who gave her his arm; whilst Monsieur Madinier
+followed with mother Coupeau. Then, twenty steps behind on the
+opposite side of the way, came Coupeau, Boche, and Bibi-the-Smoker.
+These three were in black frock coats, walking erect and swinging
+their arms. Boche's trousers were bright yellow. Bibi-the-Smoker
+didn't have a waistcoat so he was buttoned up to the neck with only a
+bit of his cravat showing. The only one in a full dress suit was
+Monsieur Madinier and passers-by gazed at this well-dressed gentleman
+escorting the huge bulk of mother Coupeau in her green shawl and black
+bonnet with red ribbons.
+
+Gervaise looked very gay and sweet in her dress of vivid blue and with
+her new silk mantle fitted tightly to her shoulders. She listened
+politely to the sneering remarks of Lorilleux, who seemed buried in
+the depths of the immense overcoat he was wearing. From time to time,
+Gervaise would turn her head a little to smile brightly at Coupeau,
+who was rather uncomfortable under the hot sun in his new clothes.
+
+Though they walked very slowly, they arrived at the mayor's quite half
+an hour too soon. And as the mayor was late, their turn was not
+reached till close upon eleven o'clock. They sat down on some chairs
+and waited in a corner of the apartment, looking by turns at the high
+ceiling and bare walls, talking low, and over-politely pushing back
+their chairs each time that one of the attendants passed. Yet among
+themselves they called the mayor a sluggard, saying he must be
+visiting his blonde to get a massage for his gout, or that maybe he'd
+swallowed his official sash.
+
+However, when the mayor did put in his appearance, they rose
+respectfully in his honor. They were asked to sit down again and they
+had to wait through three other marriages. The hall was crowded with
+the three bourgeois wedding parties: brides all in white, little girls
+with carefully curled hair, bridesmaids wearing wide sashes, an
+endless procession of ladies and gentlemen dressed in their best and
+looking very stylish.
+
+When at length they were called, they almost missed being married
+altogether. Bibi-the-Smoker having disappeared. Boche discovered him
+outside smoking his pipe. Well! They were a nice lot inside there to
+humbug people about like that, just because one hadn't yellow kid
+gloves to shove under their noses! And the various formalities--the
+reading of the Code, the different questions to be put, the signing of
+all the documents--were all got through so rapidly that they looked at
+each other with an idea that they had been robbed of a good half of
+the ceremony. Gervaise, dizzy, her heart full, pressed her
+handkerchief to her lips. Mother Coupeau wept bitterly. All had signed
+the register, writing their names in big struggling letters with the
+exception of the bridegroom, who not being able to write, had put his
+cross. They each gave four sous for the poor. When an attendant handed
+Coupeau the marriage certificate, the latter, prompted by Gervaise who
+nudged his elbow, handed him another five sous.
+
+It was a fair walk from the mayor's office in the town hall to the
+church. The men stopped along the way to have a beer. Mother Coupeau
+and Gervaise took cassis with water. Then they had to trudge along the
+long street where the sun glared straight down without the relief of
+shade.
+
+When they arrived at the church they were hurried along and asked if
+they came so late in order to make a mockery of religion. A priest
+came forward, his face pale and resentful from having to delay his
+lunch. An altar boy in a soiled surplice ran before him.
+
+The mass went very fast, with the priest turning, bowing his head,
+spreading out his arms, making all the ritual gestures in haste while
+casting sidelong glances at the group. Gervaise and Coupeau, before
+the altar, were embarrassed, not knowing when they should kneel or
+rise or seat themselves, expecting some indication from the attendant.
+The witnesses, not knowing what was proper, remained standing during
+the ceremony. Mother Coupeau was weeping again and shedding her tears
+into the missal she had borrowed from a neighbor.
+
+Meanwhile, the noon chimes had sounded and the church began to fill
+with noise from the shuffling feet of sacristans and the clatter of
+chairs being put back in place. The high altar was apparently being
+prepared for some special ceremony.
+
+Thus, in the depths of this obscure chapel, amid the floating dust,
+the surly priest placed his withered hands on the bared heads of
+Gervaise and Coupeau, blessing their union amid a hubbub like that of
+moving day. The wedding party signed another registry, this time in
+the sacristy, and then found themselves out in the bright sunlight
+before the church doors where they stood for a moment, breathless and
+confused from having been carried along at such a break-neck speed.
+
+"Voila!" said Coupeau with an embarrassed laugh. "Well, it sure didn't
+take long. They shove it at you so; it's like being at the painless
+dentist's who doesn't give you time to cry out. Here you get a
+painless wedding!"
+
+"Yes, it's a quick job," Lorilleux smirked. "In five minutes you're
+tied together for the rest of your life. You poor Young Cassis, you've
+had it."
+
+The four witnesses whacked Coupeau on the shoulders as he arched his
+back against the friendly blows. Meanwhile Gervaise was hugging and
+kissing mother Coupeau, her eyes moist, a smile lighting her face. She
+replied reassuringly to the old woman's sobbing: "Don't worry, I'll do
+my best. I want so much to have a happy life. If it doesn't work out
+it won't be my fault. Anyhow, it's done now. It's up to us to get
+along together and do the best we can for each other."
+
+After that they went straight to the Silver Windmill. Coupeau had
+taken his wife's arm. They walked quickly, laughing as though carried
+away, quite two hundred steps ahead of the others, without noticing
+the houses or the passers-by, or the vehicles. The deafening noises of
+the faubourg sounded like bells in their ears. When they reached the
+wineshop, Coupeau at once ordered two bottles of wine, some bread and
+some slices of ham, to be served in the little glazed closet on the
+ground floor, without plates or table cloth, simply to have a snack.
+Then, noticing that Boche and Bibi-the-Smoker seemed to be very
+hungry, he had a third bottle brought, as well as a slab of brie
+cheese. Mother Coupeau was not hungry, being too choked up to be able
+to eat. Gervaise found herself very thirsty, and drank several large
+glasses of water with a small amount of wine added.
+
+"I'll settle for this," said Coupeau, going at once to the bar, where
+he paid four francs and five sous.
+
+It was now one o'clock and the other guests began to arrive. Madame
+Fauconnier, a fat woman, still good looking, first put in an
+appearance; she wore a chintz dress with a flowery pattern, a pink tie
+and a cap over-trimmed with flowers. Next came Mademoiselle Remanjou,
+looking very thin in the eternal black dress which she seemed to keep
+on even when she went to bed; and the two Gaudrons--the husband, like
+some heavy animal and almost bursting his brown jacket at the
+slightest movement, the wife, an enormous woman, whose figure
+indicated evident signs of an approaching maternity and whose stiff
+violet colored skirt still more increased her rotundity. Coupeau
+explained that they were not to wait for My-Boots; his comrade would
+join the party on the Route de Saint-Denis.
+
+"Well!" exclaimed Madame Lerat as she entered, "it'll pour in torrents
+soon! That'll be pleasant!"
+
+And she called everyone to the door of the wineshop to see the clouds
+as black as ink which were rising rapidly to the south of Paris.
+Madame Lerat, eldest of the Coupeaus, was a tall, gaunt woman who
+talked through her nose. She was unattractively dressed in a puce-
+colored robe that hung loosely on her and had such long dangling
+fringes that they made her look like a skinny poodle coming out of the
+water. She brandished her umbrella like a club. After greeting
+Gervaise, she said, "You've no idea. The heat in the street is like a
+slap on the face. You'd think someone was throwing fire at you."
+
+Everyone agreed that they knew the storm was coming. It was in the
+air. Monsieur Madinier said that he had seen it as they were coming
+out of the church. Lorilleux mentioned that his corns were aching and
+he hadn't been able to sleep since three in the morning. A storm was
+due. It had been much too hot for three days in a row.
+
+"Well, maybe it will just be a little mist," Coupeau said several
+times, standing at the door and anxiously studying the sky. "Now we
+have to wait only for my sister. We'll start as soon as she arrives."
+
+Madame Lorilleux was late. Madame Lerat had stopped by so they could
+come together, but found her only beginning to get dressed. The two
+sisters had argued. The widow whispered in her brother's ear, "I left
+her flat! She's in a dreadful mood. You'll see."
+
+And the wedding party had to wait another quarter of an hour, walking
+about the wineshop, elbowed and jostled in the midst of the men who
+entered to drink a glass of wine at the bar. Now and again Boche, or
+Madame Fauconnier, or Bibi-the-Smoker left the others and went to the
+edge of the pavement, looking up at the sky. The storm was not passing
+over at all; a darkness was coming on and puffs of wind, sweeping
+along the ground, raised little clouds of white dust. At the first
+clap of thunder, Mademoiselle Remanjou made the sign of the cross. All
+the glances were anxiously directed to the clock over the looking-
+glass; it was twenty minutes to two.
+
+"Here it goes!" cried Coupeau. "It's the angels who're weeping."
+
+A gush of rain swept the pavement, along which some women flew,
+holding down their skirts with both hands. And it was in the midst of
+this first shower that Madame Lorilleux at length arrived, furious and
+out of breath, and struggling on the threshold with her umbrella that
+would not close.
+
+"Did any one ever see such a thing?" she exclaimed. "It caught me just
+at the door. I felt inclined to go upstairs again and take my things
+off. I should have been wise had I done so. Ah! it's a pretty wedding!
+I said how it would be. I wanted to put it off till next Saturday; and
+it rains because they wouldn't listen to me! So much the better, so
+much the better! I wish the sky would burst!"
+
+Coupeau tried to pacify her without success. He wouldn't have to pay
+for her dress if it was spoilt! She had on a black silk dress in which
+she was nearly choking, the bodice, too tight fitting, was almost
+bursting the button-holes, and was cutting her across the shoulders;
+while the skirt only allowed her to take very short steps in walking.
+However, the ladies present were all staring at her, quite overcome by
+her costume.
+
+She appeared not to notice Gervaise, who was sitting beside mother
+Coupeau. She asked her husband for his handkerchief. Then she went
+into a corner and very carefully wiped off the raindrops that had
+fallen on her silk dress.
+
+The shower had abruptly ceased. The darkness increased, it was almost
+like night--a livid night rent at times by large flashes of lightning.
+Bibi-the-Smoker said laughingly that it would certainly rain priests.
+Then the storm burst forth with extreme violence. For half an hour the
+rain came down in bucketsful, and the thunder rumbled unceasingly. The
+men standing up before the door contemplated the grey veil of the
+downpour, the swollen gutters, the splashes of water caused by the
+rain beating into the puddles. The women, feeling frightened, had sat
+down again, holding their hands before their eyes. They no longer
+conversed, they were too upset. A jest Boche made about the thunder,
+saying that St. Peter was sneezing up there, failed to raise a smile.
+But, when the thunder-claps became less frequent and gradually died
+away in the distance, the wedding guests began to get impatient,
+enraged against the storm, cursing and shaking their fists at the
+clouds. A fine and interminable rain now poured down from the sky
+which had become an ashy grey.
+
+"It's past two o'clock," cried Madame Lorilleux. "We can't stop here
+for ever."
+
+Mademoiselle Remanjou, having suggested going into the country all the
+same, even though they went no farther than the moat of the
+fortifications, the others scouted the idea: the roads would be in a
+nice state, one would not even be able to sit down on the grass;
+besides, it did not seem to be all over yet, there might perhaps be
+another downpour. Coupeau, who had been watching a workman, completely
+soaked, yet quietly walking along in the rain, murmured:
+
+"If that animal My-Boots is waiting for us on the Route de Saint-
+Denis, he won't catch a sunstroke."
+
+That made some of them laugh; but the general ill-humor increased. It
+was becoming ludicrous. They must decide on something unless they
+planned to sit there, staring at each other, until time for dinner. So
+for the next quarter of an hour, while the persistent rain continued,
+they tried to think of what to do. Bibi-the-Smoker suggested that they
+play cards. Boche slyly suggesting a most amusing game, the game of
+true confessions. Madame Gaudron thought of going to eat onion tarts
+on the Chaussee Clignancourt. Madame Lerat wanted to hear some
+stories. Gaudron said he wasn't a bit put out and thought they were
+quite well off where they were, out of the downpour. He suggested
+sitting down to dinner immediately.
+
+There was a discussion after each proposal. Some said that this would
+put everybody to sleep or that that would make people think they were
+stupid. Lorilleux had to get his word in. He finally suggested a walk
+along the outer Boulevards to Pere Lachaise cemetery. They could visit
+the tomb of Heloise and Abelard. Madame Lorilleux exploded, no longer
+able to control herself. She was leaving, she was. Were they trying to
+make fun of her? She got all dressed up and came out in the rain. And
+for what? To be wasting time in a wineshop. No, she had had enough of
+this wedding party. She'd rather be in her own home. Coupeau and
+Lorilleux had to get between her and the door to keep her from
+leaving. She kept telling them, "Get out of my way! I am leaving, I
+tell you!"
+
+Lorilleux finally succeeded in calming her down. Coupeau went over to
+Gervaise, who had been sitting quietly in a corner with mother Coupeau
+and Madame Fauconnier.
+
+"You haven't suggested anything," he said to her.
+
+"Oh! Whatever they want," she replied, laughing. "I don't mind. We can
+go out or stay here."
+
+She seemed aglow with contentment. She had spoken to each guest as
+they arrived. She spoke sensibly, in her soft voice, not getting into
+any disagreements. During the downpour, she had sat with her eyes wide
+open, watching the lightning as though she could see the future in the
+sudden flashes.
+
+Monsieur Madinier had up to this time not proposed anything. He was
+leaning against the bar, with the tails of his dress coat thrust
+apart, while he fully maintained the important air of an employer. He
+kept on expectorating, and rolled his big eyes about.
+
+"/Mon Dieu/!" said he, "we might go to the Museum."
+
+And he stroked his chin, as he blinkingly consulted the other members
+of the party.
+
+"There are antiquities, pictures, paintings, a whole heap of things.
+It is very instructive. Perhaps you have never been there. Oh! it is
+quite worth seeing at least once in a while."
+
+They looked at each other interrogatively. No, Gervaise had never
+been; Madame Fauconnier neither, nor Boche, nor the others. Coupeau
+thought he had been one Sunday, but he was not sure. They hesitated,
+however, when Madame Lorilleux, greatly impressed by Monsieur
+Madinier's importance, thought the suggestion a very worthy and
+respectable one. As they were wasting the day, and were all dressed
+up, they might as well go somewhere for their own instruction.
+Everyone approved. Then, as it still rained a little, they borrowed
+some umbrellas from the proprietor of the wineshop, old blue, green,
+and brown umbrellas, forgotten by different customers, and started off
+to the Museum.
+
+The wedding party turned to the right, and descended into Paris along
+the Faubourg Saint-Denis. Coupeau and Gervaise again took the lead,
+almost running and keeping a good distance in front of the others.
+Monsieur Madinier now gave his arm to Madame Lorilleux, mother Coupeau
+having remained behind in the wineshop on account of her old legs.
+Then came Lorilleux and Madame Lerat, Boche and Madame Fauconnier,
+Bibi-the-Smoker and Mademoiselle Remanjou, and finally the two
+Gaudrons. They were twelve and made a pretty long procession on the
+pavement.
+
+"I swear to you, we had nothing to do with it," Madame Lorilleux
+explained to Monsieur Madinier. "We don't even know how they met, or,
+we know only too well, but that's not for us to discuss. My husband
+even had to buy the wedding ring. We were scarcely out of bed this
+morning when he had to lend them ten francs. And, not a member of her
+family at her wedding, what kind of bride is that? She says she has a
+sister in Paris who works for a pork butcher. Why didn't she invite
+her?" She stopped to point at Gervaise, who was limping awkwardly
+because of the slope of the pavement. "Just look at her. Clump-clump."
+
+"Clump-clump" ran through the wedding procession. Lorilleux laughed
+under his breath, and said they ought to call her that, but Madame
+Fauconnier stood up for Gervaise. They shouldn't make fun of her; she
+was neat as a pin and did a good job when there was washing to be
+done.
+
+When the wedding procession came out of the Faubourg Saint-Denis, they
+had to cross the boulevard. The street had been transformed into a
+morass of sticky mud by the storm. It had started to pour again and
+they had opened the assorted umbrellas. The women picked their way
+carefully through the mud, holding their skirts high as the men held
+the sorry-looking umbrellas over their heads. The procession stretched
+out the width of the street.
+
+"It's a masquerade!" yelled two street urchins.
+
+People turned to stare. These couples parading across the boulevard
+added a splash of vivid color against the damp background. It was a
+parade of a strange medley of styles showing fancy used clothing such
+as constitute the luxury of the poor. The gentlemen's hats caused the
+most merriment, old hats preserved for years in dark and dusty
+cupboards, in a variety of comical forms: tall ones, flattened ones,
+sharply peaked ones, hats with extraordinary brims, curled back or
+flat, too narrow or too wide. Then at the very end, Madame Gaudron
+came along with her bright dress over her bulging belly and caused the
+smiles of the audience to grow even wider. The procession made no
+effort to hasten its progress. They were, in fact, rather pleased to
+attract so much attention and admiration.
+
+"Look! Here comes the bride!" one of the urchins shouted, pointing to
+Madame Gaudron. "Oh! Isn't it too bad! She must have swallowed
+something!"
+
+The entire wedding procession burst into laughter. Bibi-the-Smoker
+turned around and laughed. Madame Gaudron laughed the most of all. She
+wasn't ashamed as she thought more than one of the women watching had
+looked at her with envy.
+
+They turned into the Rue de Clery. Then they took the Rue du Mail. On
+reaching the Place des Victoires, there was a halt. The bride's left
+shoe lace had come undone, and as she tied it up again at the foot of
+the statue of Louis XIV., the couples pressed behind her waiting, and
+joking about the bit of calf of her leg that she displayed. At length,
+after passing down the Rue Croix-des-Petits-Champs, they reached the
+Louvre.
+
+Monsieur Madinier politely asked to be their cicerone. It was a big
+place, and they might lose themselves; besides, he knew the best
+parts, because he had often come there with an artist, a very
+intelligent fellow from whom a large dealer bought designs to put on
+his cardboard boxes. Down below, when the wedding party entered the
+Assyrian Museum, a slight shiver passed through it. The deuce! It was
+not at all warm there; the hall would have made a capital cellar. And
+the couples slowly advanced, their chins raised, their eyes blinking,
+between the gigantic stone figures, the black marble gods, dumb in
+their hieratic rigidity, and the monstrous beasts, half cats and half
+women, with death-like faces, attenuated noses, and swollen lips. They
+thought all these things very ugly. The stone carvings of the present
+day were a great deal better. An inscription in Phoenician characters
+amazed them. No one could possibly have ever read that scrawl. But
+Monsieur Madinier, already up on the first landing with Madame
+Lorilleux, called to them, shouting beneath the vaulted ceiling:
+
+"Come along! They're nothing, all those things! The things to see are
+on the first floor!"
+
+The severe barrenness of the staircase made them very grave. An
+attendant, superbly attired in a red waistcoat and a coat trimmed with
+gold lace, who seemed to be awaiting them on the landing, increased
+their emotion. It was with great respect, and treading as softly as
+possible, that they entered the French Gallery.
+
+Then, without stopping, their eyes occupied with the gilding of the
+frames, they followed the string of little rooms, glancing at the
+passing pictures too numerous to be seen properly. It would have
+required an hour before each, if they had wanted to understand it.
+What a number of pictures! There was no end to them. They must be
+worth a mint of money. Right at the end, Monsieur Madinier suddenly
+ordered a halt opposite the "Raft of the Medusa" and he explained the
+subject to them. All deeply impressed and motionless, they uttered not
+a word. When they started off again, Boche expressed the general
+feeling, saying it was marvellous.
+
+In the Apollo Gallery, the inlaid flooring especially astonished the
+party--a shining floor, as clear as a mirror, and which reflected the
+legs of the seats. Mademoiselle Remanjou kept her eyes closed, because
+she could not help thinking that she was walking on water. They called
+to Madame Gaudron to be careful how she trod on account of her
+condition. Monsieur Madinier wanted to show them the gilding and
+paintings of the ceiling; but it nearly broke their necks to look up
+above, and they could distinguish nothing. Then, before entering the
+Square Salon, he pointed to a window, saying:
+
+"That's the balcony from which Charles IX. fired on the people."
+
+He looked back to make sure the party was following. In the middle of
+the Salon Carre, he held up his hand. "There are only masterpieces
+here," he said, in a subdued voice, as though in church. They went all
+around the room. Gervaise wanted to know about "The Wedding at Cana."
+Coupeau paused to stare at the "Mona Lisa," saying that she reminded
+him of one of his aunts. Boche and Bibi-the-Smoker snickered at the
+nudes, pointing them out to each other and winking. The Gaudrons
+looked at the "Virgin" of Murillo, he with his mouth open, she with
+her hands folded on her belly.
+
+When they had been all around the Salon, Monsieur Madinier wished them
+to go round it again, it was so worth while. He was very attentive to
+Madame Lorilleux, because of her silk dress; and each time that she
+questioned him he answered her gravely, with great assurance. She was
+curious about "Titian's Mistress" because the yellow hair resembled
+her own. He told her it was "La Belle Ferronniere," a mistress of
+Henry IV. about whom there had been a play at the Ambigu.
+
+Then the wedding party invaded the long gallery occupied by the
+Italian and Flemish schools. More paintings, always paintings, saints,
+men and women, with faces which some of them could understand,
+landscapes that were all black, animals turned yellow, a medley of
+people and things, the great mixture of the colors of which was
+beginning to give them all violent headaches. Monsieur Madinier no
+longer talked as he slowly headed the procession, which followed him
+in good order, with stretched necks and upcast eyes. Centuries of art
+passed before their bewildered ignorance, the fine sharpness of the
+early masters, the splendors of the Venetians, the vigorous life,
+beautiful with light, of the Dutch painters. But what interested them
+most were the artists who were copying, with their easels planted
+amongst the people, painting away unrestrainedly, an old lady, mounted
+on a pair of high steps, working a big brush over the delicate sky of
+an immense painting, struck them as something most peculiar.
+
+Slowly the word must have gone around that a wedding party was
+visiting the Louvre. Several painters came over with big smiles. Some
+visitors were so curious that they went to sit on benches ahead of the
+group in order to be comfortable while they watched them pass in
+review. Museum guards bit back comments. The wedding party was now
+quite weary and beginning to drag their feet.
+
+Monsieur Madinier was reserving himself to give more effect to a
+surprise that he had in store. He went straight to the "Kermesse" of
+Rubens; but still he said nothing. He contented himself with directing
+the others' attention to the picture by a sprightly glance. The ladies
+uttered faint cries the moment they brought their noses close to the
+painting. Then, blushing deeply they turned away their heads. The men
+though kept them there, cracking jokes, and seeking for the coarser
+details.
+
+"Just look!" exclaimed Boche, "it's worth the money. There's one
+spewing, and another, he's watering the dandelions; and that one--oh!
+that one. Ah, well! They're a nice clean lot, they are!"
+
+"Let us be off," said Monsieur Madinier, delighted with his success.
+"There is nothing more to see here."
+
+They retraced their steps, passing again through the Salon Carre and
+the Apollo Gallery. Madame Lerat and Mademoiselle Remanjou complained,
+declaring that their legs could scarcely bear them. But the cardboard
+box manufacturer wanted to show Lorilleux the old jewelry. It was
+close by in a little room which he could find with his eyes shut.
+However, he made a mistake and led the wedding party astray through
+seven or eight cold, deserted rooms, only ornamented with severe
+looking-glass cases, containing numberless broken pots and hideous
+little figures.
+
+While looking for an exit they stumbled into the collection of
+drawings. It was immense. Through room after room they saw nothing
+interesting, just scribblings on paper that filled all the cases and
+covered the walls. They thought there was no end to these drawings.
+
+Monsieur Madinier, losing his head, not willing to admit that he did
+not know his way, ascended a flight of stairs, making the wedding
+party mount to the next floor. This time they traversed the Naval
+Museum, among models of instruments and cannons, plans in relief, and
+vessels as tiny as playthings. After going a long way, and walking for
+a quarter of an hour, the party came upon another staircase; and,
+having descended this, found itself once more surrounded by the
+drawings. Then despair took possession of them as they wandered at
+random through long halls, following Monsieur Madinier, who was
+furious and mopping the sweat from his forehead. He accused the
+government of having moved the doors around. Museum guards and
+visitors looked on with astonishment as the procession, still in a
+column of couples, passed by. They passed again through the Salon
+Carre, the French Gallery and then along the cases where minor Eastern
+divinities slumbered peacefully. It seemed they would never find their
+way out. They were getting tired and made a lot of noise.
+
+"Closing time! Closing time!" called out the attendants, in a loud
+tone of voice.
+
+And the wedding party was nearly locked in. An attendant was obliged
+to place himself at the head of it, and conduct it to a door. Then in
+the courtyard of the Louvre, when it had recovered its umbrellas from
+the cloakroom, it breathed again. Monsieur Madinier regained his
+assurance. He had made a mistake in not turning to the left, now he
+recollected that the jewelry was to the left. The whole party
+pretended to be very pleased at having seen all they had.
+
+Four o'clock was striking. There were still two hours to be employed
+before the dinner time, so it was decided they should take a stroll,
+just to occupy the interval. The ladies, who were very tired, would
+have preferred to sit down; but, as no one offered any refreshments,
+they started off, following the line of quays. There they encountered
+another shower and so sharp a one that in spite of the umbrellas, the
+ladies' dresses began to get wet. Madame Lorilleux, her heart sinking
+within her each time a drop fell upon her black silk, proposed that
+they should shelter themselves under the Pont-Royal; besides if the
+others did not accompany her, she threatened to go all by herself. And
+the procession marched under one of the arches of the bridge. They
+were very comfortable there. It was, most decidedly a capital idea!
+The ladies, spreading their handkerchiefs over the paving-stones, sat
+down with their knees wide apart, and pulled out the blades of grass
+that grew between the stones with both hands, whilst they watched the
+dark flowing water as though they were in the country. The men amused
+themselves with calling out very loud, so as to awaken the echoes of
+the arch. Boche and Bibi-the-Smoker shouted insults into the air at
+the top of their voices, one after the other. They laughed
+uproariously when the echo threw the insults back at them. When their
+throats were hoarse from shouting, they made a game of skipping flat
+stones on the surface of the Seine.
+
+The shower had ceased but the whole party felt so comfortable that no
+one thought of moving away. The Seine was flowing by, an oily sheet
+carrying bottle corks, vegetable peelings, and other refuse that
+sometimes collected in temporary whirlpools moving along with the
+turbulent water. Endless traffic rumbled on the bridge overhead, the
+noisy bustle of Paris, of which they could glimpse only the rooftops
+to the left and right, as though they were in the bottom of a deep
+pit.
+
+Mademoiselle Remanjou sighed; if the leaves had been out this would
+have reminded her of a bend of the Marne where she used to go with a
+young man. It still made her cry to think of him.
+
+At last, Monsieur Madinier gave the signal for departure. They passed
+through the Tuileries gardens, in the midst of a little community of
+children, whose hoops and balls upset the good order of the couples.
+Then as the wedding party on arriving at the Place Vendome looked up
+at the column, Monsieur Madinier gallantly offered to treat the ladies
+to a view from the top. His suggestion was considered extremely
+amusing. Yes, yes, they would go up; it would give them something to
+laugh about for a long time. Besides, it would be full of interest for
+those persons who had never been higher than a cow pasture.
+
+"Do you think Clump-clump will venture inside there with her leg all
+out of place?" murmured Madame Lorilleux.
+
+"I'll go up with pleasure," said Madame Lerat, "but I won't have any
+men walking behind me."
+
+And the whole party ascended. In the narrow space afforded by the
+spiral staircase, the twelve persons crawled up one after the other,
+stumbling against the worn steps, and clinging to the walls. Then,
+when the obscurity became complete, they almost split their sides with
+laughing. The ladies screamed when the gentlemen pinched their legs.
+But they were weren't stupid enough to say anything! The proper plan
+is to think that it is the mice nibbling at them. It wasn't very
+serious; the men knew when to stop.
+
+Boche thought of a joke and everyone took it up. They called down to
+Madame Gaudron to ask her if she could squeeze her belly through. Just
+think! If she should get stuck there, she would completely block the
+passage, and how would they ever get out? They laughed so at the jokes
+about her belly that the column itself vibrated. Boche was now quite
+carried away and declared that they were growing old climbing up this
+chimney pipe. Was it ever coming to an end, or did it go right up to
+heaven? He tried to frighten the ladies by telling them the structure
+was shaking.
+
+Coupeau, meanwhile, said nothing. He was behind Gervaise, with his arm
+around her waist, and felt that she was everything perfect to him.
+When they suddenly emerged again into the daylight, he was just in the
+act of kissing her on the cheek.
+
+"Well! You're a nice couple; you don't stand on ceremony," said Madame
+Lorilleux with a scandalized air.
+
+Bibi-the-Smoker pretended to be furious. He muttered between his
+teeth. "You made such a noise together! I wasn't even able to count
+the steps."
+
+But Monsieur Madinier was already up on the platform, pointing out the
+different monuments. Neither Madame Fauconnier nor Mademoiselle
+Remanjou would on any consideration leave the staircase. The thought
+of the pavement below made their blood curdle, and they contented
+themselves with glancing out of the little door. Madame Lerat, who was
+bolder, went round the narrow terrace, keeping close to the bronze
+dome; but, /mon Dieu/, it gave one a rude emotion to think that one
+only had to slip off. The men were a little paler than usual as they
+stared down at the square below. You would think you were up in mid-
+air, detached from everything. No, it wasn't fun, it froze your very
+insides.
+
+Monsieur Madinier told them to raise their eyes and look straight into
+the distance to avoid feeling dizzy. He went on pointing out the
+Invalides, the Pantheon, Notre Dame and the Montmartre hill. Madame
+Lorilleux asked if they could see the place where they were to have
+dinner, the Silver Windmill on the Boulevard de la Chapelle. For ten
+minutes they tried to see it, even arguing about it. Everyone had
+their own idea where it was.
+
+"It wasn't worth while coming up here to bite each other's noses off,"
+said Boche, angrily as he turned to descend the staircase.
+
+The wedding party went down, unspeaking and sulky, awakening no other
+sound beyond that of shoes clanking on the stone steps. When it
+reached the bottom, Monsieur Madinier wished to pay; but Coupeau would
+not permit him, and hastened to place twenty-four sous into the
+keeper's hand, two sous for each person. So they returned by the
+Boulevards and the Faubourg du Poissonniers. Coupeau, however,
+considered that their outing could not end like that. He bundled them
+all into a wineshop where they took some vermouth.
+
+The repast was ordered for six o'clock. At the Silver Windmill, they
+had been waiting for the wedding party for a good twenty minutes.
+Madame Boche, who had got a lady living in the same house to attend to
+her duties for the evening, was conversing with mother Coupeau in the
+first floor room, in front of the table, which was all laid out; and
+the two youngsters, Claude and Etienne, whom she had brought with her,
+were playing about beneath the table and amongst the chairs. When
+Gervaise, on entering caught sight of the little ones, whom she had
+not seen all the day, she took them on her knees, and caressed and
+kissed them.
+
+"Have they been good?" asked she of Madame Boche. "I hope they haven't
+worried you too much."
+
+And as the latter related the things the little rascals had done
+during the afternoon, and which would make one die with laughing, the
+mother again took them up and pressed them to her breast, seized with
+an overpowering outburst of maternal affection.
+
+"It's not very pleasant for Coupeau, all the same," Madame Lorilleux
+was saying to the other ladies, at the end of the room.
+
+Gervaise had kept her smiling peacefulness from the morning, but after
+the long walk she appeared almost sad at times as she watched her
+husband and the Lorilleuxs in a thoughtful way. She had the feeling
+that Coupeau was a little afraid of his sister. The evening before, he
+had been talking big, swearing he would put them in their places if
+they didn't behave. However, she could see that in their presence he
+was hanging on their words, worrying when he thought they might be
+displeased. This gave the young bride some cause for worry about the
+future.
+
+They were now only waiting for My-Boots, who had not yet put in an
+appearance.
+
+"Oh! blow him!" cried Coupeau, "let's begin. You'll see, he'll soon
+turn up, he's got a hollow nose, he can scent the grub from afar. I
+say he must be amusing himself, if he's still standing like a post on
+the Route de Saint-Denis!"
+
+Then the wedding party, feeling very lively, sat down making a great
+noise with the chairs. Gervaise was between Lorilleux and Monsieur
+Madinier, and Coupeau between Madame Fauconnier and Madame Lorilleux.
+The other guests seated themselves where they liked, because it always
+ended with jealousies and quarrels, when one settled their places for
+them. Boche glided to a seat beside Madame Lerat. Bibi-the-Smoker had
+for neighbors Mademoiselle Remanjou and Madame Gaudron. As for Madame
+Boche and mother Coupeau, they were right at the end of the table,
+looking after the children, cutting up their meat and giving them
+something to drink, but not much wine.
+
+"Does nobody say grace?" asked Boche, whilst the ladies arranged their
+skirts under the table-cloth, so as not to get them stained.
+
+But Madame Lorilleux paid no attention to such pleasantries. The
+vermicelli soup, which was nearly cold, was gulped down very quickly,
+their lips making a hissing noise against the spoons. Two waiters
+served at table, dressed in little greasy jackets and not over-clean
+white aprons. By the four open windows overlooking the acacias of the
+courtyard there entered the clear light of the close of a stormy day,
+with the atmosphere purified thereby though without sufficiently
+cooling it. The light reflected from the humid corner of trees tinged
+the haze-filled room with green and made leaf shadows dance along the
+table-cloth, from which came a vague aroma of dampness and mildew.
+
+Two large mirrors, one at each end of the room, seemed to stretch out
+the table. The heavy crockery with which it was set was beginning to
+turn yellow and the cutlery was scratched and grimed with grease. Each
+time a waiter came through the swinging doors from the kitchen a whiff
+of odorous burnt lard came with him.
+
+"Don't all talk at once," said Boche, as everyone remained silent with
+his nose in his plate.
+
+They were drinking the first glass of wine as their eyes followed two
+meat pies which the waiters were handing round when My-Boots entered
+the room.
+
+"Well, you're a scurvy lot, you people!" said he. "I've been wearing
+my pins out for three hours waiting on that road, and a gendarme even
+came and asked me for my papers. It isn't right to play such dirty
+tricks on a friend! You might at least have sent me word by a
+commissionaire. Ah! no, you know, joking apart, it's too bad. And with
+all that, it rained so hard that I got my pickets full of water. Honor
+bright, you might still catch enough fish in 'em for a meal."
+
+The others wriggled with laughter. That animal My-Boots was just a bit
+on; he had certainly already stowed away his two quarts of wine,
+merely to prevent his being bothered by all that frog's liquor with
+which the storm had deluged his limbs.
+
+"Hallo! Count Leg-of-Mutton!" said Coupeau, "just go and sit yourself
+there, beside Madame Gaudron. You see you were expected."
+
+Oh, he did not mind, he would soon catch the others up; and he asked
+for three helpings of soup, platefuls of vermicelli, in which he
+soaked enormous slices of bread. Then, when they had attacked the meat
+pies, he became the profound admiration of everyone at the table. How
+he stowed it away! The bewildered waiters helped each other to pass
+him bread, thin slices which he swallowed at a mouthful. He ended by
+losing his temper; he insisted on having a loaf placed on the table
+beside him. The landlord, very anxious, came for a moment and looked
+in at the door. The party, which was expecting him, again wriggled
+with laughter. It seemed to upset the caterer. What a rum card he was
+that My-Boots! One day he had eaten a dozen hard-boiled eggs and drank
+a dozen glasses of wine while the clock was striking twelve! There are
+not many who can do that. And Mademoiselle Remanjou, deeply moved,
+watched My-Boots chew whilst Monsieur Madinier, seeking for a word to
+express his almost respectful astonishment, declared that such a
+capacity was extraordinary.
+
+There was a brief silence. A waiter had just placed on the table a
+ragout of rabbits in a vast dish as deep as a salad-bowl. Coupeau, who
+liked fun, started another joke.
+
+"I say, waiter, that rabbit's from the housetops. It still mews."
+
+And in fact, a faint mew perfectly imitated seemed to issue from the
+dish. It was Coupeau who did that with his throat, without opening his
+lips; a talent which at all parties, met with decided success, so much
+so that he never ordered a dinner abroad without having a rabbit
+ragout. After that he purred. The ladies pressed their napkins to
+their mouths to try and stop their laughter. Madame Fauconnier asked
+for a head, she only liked that part. Mademoiselle Remanjou had a
+weakness for the slices of bacon. And as Boche said he preferred the
+little onions when they were nicely broiled, Madame Lerat screwed up
+her lips, and murmured:
+
+"I can understand that."
+
+She was a dried up stick, living the cloistered life of a hard-working
+woman imprisoned within her daily routine, who had never had a man
+stick his nose into her room since the death of her husband; yet she
+had an obsession with double meanings and indecent allusions that were
+sometimes so far off the mark that only she understood them.
+
+As Boche leaned toward her and, in a whisper, asked for an
+explanation, she resumed:
+
+"Little onions, why of course. That's quite enough, I think."
+
+The general conversation was becoming grave. Each one was talking of
+his trade. Monsieur Madinier raved about the cardboard business. There
+were some real artists. For an example, he mentioned Christmas gift
+boxes, of which he'd seen samples that were marvels of splendor.
+
+Lorilleux sneered at this; he was extremely vain because of working
+with gold, feeling that it gave a sort of sheen to his fingers and his
+whole personality. "In olden times jewelers wore swords like
+gentlemen." He often cited the case of Bernard Palissy, even though he
+really knew nothing about him.
+
+Coupeau told of a masterpiece of a weather vane made by one of his
+fellow workers which included a Greek column, a sheaf of wheat, a
+basket of fruit, and a flag, all beautifully worked out of nothing but
+strips of zinc shaped and soldered together.
+
+Madame Lerat showed Bibi-the-Smoker how to make a rose by rolling the
+handle of her knife between her bony fingers.
+
+All the while, their voices had been rising louder and louder,
+competing for attention. Shrill comments by Madame Fauconnier were
+heard. She complained about the girls who worked for her, especially a
+little apprentice who was nothing but a tart and had badly scorched
+some sheets the evening before.
+
+"You may talk," Lorilleux cried, banging his fist down on the table,
+"but gold is gold."
+
+And, in the midst of the silence caused by the statement of this fact,
+the only sound heard was Mademoiselle Remanjou's shrill voice
+continuing:
+
+"Then I turn up the skirt and stitch it inside. I stick a pin in the
+head to keep the cap on, and that's all; and they are sold for
+thirteen sous a piece."
+
+She was explaining how she dressed her dolls to My-Boots, whose jaws
+were working slowly like grindstones. He did not listen, though he
+kept nodding his head, but looked after the waiters to prevent them
+removing any of the dishes he had not cleaned out. They had now
+finished a veal stew with green beans. The roast was brought in, two
+scrawny chickens resting on a bed of water cress which was limp from
+the warming oven.
+
+Outside, only the higher branches of the acacias were touched by the
+setting sun. Inside, the greenish reflected light was thickened by
+wisps of steam rising from the table, now messy with spilled wine and
+gravy and the debris of the dinner. Along the wall were dirty dishes
+and empty bottles which the waiters had piled there like a heap of
+refuse. It was so hot that the men took off their jackets and
+continued eating in their shirt sleeves.
+
+"Madame Boche, please don't spread their butter so thick," said
+Gervaise, who spoke but little, and who was watching Claude and
+Etienne from a distance.
+
+She got up from her seat, and went and talked for a minute while
+standing behind the little ones' chairs. Children did not reason; they
+would eat all day long without refusing a single thing; and then she
+herself helped them to some chicken, a little of the breast. But
+mother Coupeau said they might, just for once in a while, risk an
+attack of indigestion. Madame Boche, in a low voice accused Boche of
+caressing Madame Lerat's knees. Oh, he was a sly one, but he was
+getting a little too gay. She had certainly seen his hand disappear.
+If he did it again, drat him! She wouldn't hesitate throwing a pitcher
+of water over his head.
+
+In the partial silence, Monsieur Madinier was talking politics. "Their
+law of May 31, is an abominable one. Now you must reside in a place
+for two years. Three millions of citizens are struck off the voting
+lists. I've been told that Bonaparte is, in reality, very much annoyed
+for he loves the people; he has given them proofs."
+
+He was a republican; but he admired the prince on account of his
+uncle, a man the like of whom would never be seen again. Bibi-the-
+Smoker flew into a passion. He had worked at the Elysee; he had seen
+Bonaparte just as he saw My-Boots in front of him over there. Well
+that muff of a president was just like a jackass, that was all! It was
+said that he was going to travel about in the direction of Lyons; it
+would be a precious good riddance of bad rubbish if he fell into some
+hole and broke his neck. But, as the discussion was becoming too
+heated, Coupeau had to interfere.
+
+"Ah, well! How simple you all are to quarrel about politics. Politics
+are all humbug! Do such things exist for us? Let there be any one as
+king, it won't prevent me earning my five francs a day, and eating and
+sleeping; isn't that so? No, it's too stupid to argue about!"
+
+Lorilleux shook his head. He was born on the same day as the Count of
+Chambord, the 29th of September, 1820. He was greatly struck with this
+coincidence, indulging himself in a vague dream, in which he
+established a connection between the king's return to France and his
+own private fortunes. He never said exactly what he was expecting, but
+he led people to suppose that when that time arrived something
+extraordinarily agreeable would happen to him. So whenever he had a
+wish too great to be gratified, he would put it off to another time,
+when the king came back.
+
+"Besides," observed he, "I saw the Count de Chambord one evening."
+
+Every face was turned towards him.
+
+"It's quite true. A stout man, in an overcoat, and with a good-natured
+air. I was at Pequignot's, one of my friends who deals in furniture in
+the Grand Rue de la Chapelle. The Count of Chambord had forgotten his
+umbrella there the day before; so he came in, and just simply said,
+like this: 'Will you please return me my umbrella?' Well, yes, it was
+him; Pequignot gave me his word of honor it was."
+
+Not one of the guests suggested the smallest doubt. They had now
+arrived at dessert and the waiters were clearing the table with much
+clattering of dishes. Madame Lorilleux, who up to then had been very
+genteel, very much the lady, suddenly let fly with a curse. One of the
+waiters had spilled something wet down her neck while removing a dish.
+This time her silk dress would be stained for sure. Monsieur Madinier
+had to examine her back, but he swore there was nothing to be seen.
+
+Two platters of cheese, two dishes of fruit, and a floating island
+pudding of frosted eggs in a deep salad-bowl had now been placed along
+the middle of the table. The pudding caused a moment of respectful
+attention even though the overdone egg whites had flattened on the
+yellow custard. It was unexpected and seemed very fancy.
+
+My-Boots was still eating. He had asked for another loaf. He finished
+what there was of the cheese; and, as there was some cream left, he
+had the salad-bowl passed to him, into which he sliced some large
+pieces of bread as though for a soup.
+
+"The gentleman is really remarkable," said Monsieur Madinier, again
+giving way to his admiration.
+
+Then the men rose to get their pipes. They stood for a moment behind
+My-Boots, patting him on the back, and asking him if he was feeling
+better. Bibi-the-Smoker lifted him up in his chair; but /tonnerre de
+Dieu!/ the animal had doubled in weight. Coupeau joked that My-Boots
+was only getting started, that now he was going to settle down and
+really eat for the rest of the night. The waiters were startled and
+quickly vanished from sight.
+
+Boche, who had gone downstairs for a moment, came up to report the
+proprietor's reaction. He was standing behind his bar, pale as death.
+His wife, dreadfully upset, was wondering if any bakeries were still
+open. Even the cat seemed deep in despair. This was as funny as could
+be, really worth the price of the dinner. It was impossible to have a
+proper dinner party without My-Boots, the bottomless pit. The other
+men eyed him with a brooding jealousy as they puffed on their pipes.
+Indeed, to be able to eat so much, you had to be very solidly built!
+
+"I wouldn't care to be obliged to support you," said Madame Gaudron.
+"Ah, no; you may take my word for that!"
+
+"I say, little mother, no jokes," replied My-Boots, casting a side
+glance at his neighbor's rotund figure. "You've swallowed more than I
+have."
+
+The others applauded, shouting "Bravo!"--it was well answered. It was
+now pitch dark outside, three gas-jets were flaring in the room,
+diffusing dim rays in the midst of the tobacco-smoke. The waiters,
+after serving the coffee and the brandy, had removed the last piles of
+dirty plates. Down below, beneath the three acacias, dancing had
+commenced, a cornet-a-piston and two fiddles playing very loud, and
+mingling in the warm night air with the rather hoarse laughter of
+women.
+
+"We must have a punch!" cried My-Boots; "two quarts of brandy, lots of
+lemon, and a little sugar."
+
+But Coupeau, seeing the anxious look on Gervaise's face in front of
+him, got up from the table, declaring that there should be no more
+drink. They had emptied twenty-five quarts, a quart and a half to each
+person, counting the children as grown-up people; that was already too
+much. They had had a feed together in good fellowship, and without
+ceremony, because they esteemed each other, and wished to celebrate
+the event of the day amongst themselves. Everything had been very
+nice; they had had lots of fun. It wouldn't do to get cockeyed drunk
+now, out of respect to the ladies. That was all he had to say, they
+had come together to toast a marriage and they had done so.
+
+Coupeau delivered the little speech with convincing sincerity and
+punctuated each phrase by placing his hand on his heart. He won whole-
+hearted approval from Lorilleux and Monsieur Madinier; but the other
+four men, especially My-Boots, were already well lit and sneered. They
+declared in hoarse drunken voices that they were thirsty and wanted
+drinks.
+
+"Those who're thirsty are thirsty, and those who aren't thirsty aren't
+thirsty," remarked My-Boots. "Therefore, we'll order the punch. No one
+need take offence. The aristocrats can drink sugar-and-water."
+
+And as the zinc-worker commenced another sermon, the other, who had
+risen on his legs, gave himself a slap, exclaiming:
+
+"Come, let's have no more of that, my boy! Waiter, two quarts of your
+aged stuff!"
+
+So Coupeau said very well, only they would settle for the dinner at
+once. It would prevent any disputes. The well-behaved people did not
+want to pay for the drunkards; and it just happened that My-Boots,
+after searching in his pockets for a long time, could only produce
+three francs and seven sous. Well, why had they made him wait all that
+time on the Route de Saint-Denis? He could not let himself be drowned
+and so he had broken into his five-franc piece. It was the fault of
+the others, that was all! He ended by giving the three francs, keeping
+the seven sous for the morrow's tobacco. Coupeau, who was furious,
+would have knocked him over had not Gervaise, greatly frightened,
+pulled him by his coat, and begged him to keep cool. He decided to
+borrow the two francs of Lorilleux, who after refusing them, lent them
+on the sly, for his wife would never have consented to his doing so.
+
+Monsieur Madinier went round with a plate. The spinster and the ladies
+who were alone--Madame Lerat, Madame Fauconnier, Mademoiselle Remanjou
+--discreetly placed their five-franc pieces in it first. Then the
+gentlemen went to the other end of the room, and made up the accounts.
+They were fifteen; it amounted therefore to seventy-five francs. When
+the seventy-five francs were in the plate, each man added five sous
+for the waiters. It took a quarter of an hour of laborious
+calculations before everything was settled to the general
+satisfaction.
+
+But when Monsieur Madinier, who wished to deal direct with the
+landlord, had got him to step up, the whole party became lost in
+astonishment on hearing him say with a smile that there was still
+something due to him. There were some extras; and, as the word
+"extras" was greeted with angry exclamations, he entered into details:
+--Twenty-five quarts of wine, instead of twenty, the number agreed
+upon beforehand; the frosted eggs, which he had added, as the dessert
+was rather scanty; finally, a quarter of a bottle of rum, served with
+the coffee, in case any one preferred rum. Then a formidable quarrel
+ensued. Coupeau, who was appealed to, protested against everything; he
+had never mentioned twenty quarts; as for the frosted eggs, they were
+included in the dessert, so much the worse for the landlord if he
+choose to add them without being asked to do so. There remained the
+rum, a mere nothing, just a mode of increasing the bill by putting on
+the table spirits that no one thought anything about.
+
+"It was on the tray with the coffee," he cried; "therefore it goes
+with the coffee. Go to the deuce! Take your money, and never again
+will we set foot in your den!"
+
+"It's six francs more," repeated the landlord. "Pay me my six francs;
+and with all that I haven't counted the four loaves that gentleman
+ate!"
+
+The whole party, pressing forward, surrounded him with furious
+gestures and a yelping of voices choking with rage. The women
+especially threw aside all reserve, and refused to add another
+centime. This was some wedding dinner! Mademoiselle Remanjou vowed she
+would never again attend such a party. Madame Fauconnier declared she
+had had a very disappointing meal; at home she could have had a
+finger-licking dish for only two francs. Madame Gaudron bitterly
+complained that she had been shoved down to the worst end of the table
+next to My-Boots who had ignored her. These parties never turned out
+well, one should be more careful whom one invites. Gervaise had taken
+refuge with mother Coupeau near one of the windows, feeling shamed as
+she realized that all these recriminations would fall back upon her.
+
+Monsieur Madinier ended by going down with the landlord. One could
+hear them arguing below. Then, when half an hour had gone by the
+cardboard box manufacturer returned; he had settled the matter by
+giving three francs. But the party continued annoyed and exasperated,
+constantly returning to the question of the extras. And the uproar
+increased from an act of vigor on Madame Boche's part. She had kept
+an eye on Boche, and at length detected him squeezing Madame Lerat
+round the waist in a corner. Then, with all her strength, she flung a
+water pitcher, which smashed against the wall.
+
+"One can easily see that your husband's a tailor, madame," said the
+tall widow, with a curl of the lip, full of a double meaning. "He's a
+petticoat specialist, even though I gave him some pretty hard kicks
+under the table."
+
+The harmony of the evening was altogether upset. Everyone became more
+and more ill-tempered. Monsieur Madinier suggested some singing, but
+Bibi-the-Smoker, who had a fine voice, had disappeared some time
+before; and Mademoiselle Remanjou, who was leaning out of the window,
+caught sight of him under the acacias, swinging round a big girl who
+was bare-headed. The cornet-a-piston and two fiddles were playing "/Le
+Marchand de Moutarde/." The party now began to break up. My-Boots and
+the Gaudrons went down to the dance with Boche sneaking along after
+them. The twirling couples could be seen from the windows. The night
+was still as though exhausted from the heat of the day. A serious
+conversation started between Lorilleux and Monsieur Madinier. The
+ladies examined their dresses carefully to see if they had been
+stained.
+
+Madame Lerat's fringe looked as though it had been dipped in the
+coffee. Madame Fauconnier's chintz dress was spotted with gravy.
+Mother Coupeau's green shawl, fallen from off a chair, was discovered
+in a corner, rolled up and trodden upon. But it was Madame Lorilleux
+especially who became more ill-tempered still. She had a stain on the
+back of her dress; it was useless for the others to declare that she
+had not--she felt it. And, by twisting herself about in front of a
+looking-glass, she ended by catching a glimpse of it.
+
+"What did I say?" cried she. "It's gravy from the fowl. The waiter
+shall pay for the dress. I will bring an action against him. Ah! this
+is a fit ending to such a day. I should have done better to have
+stayed in bed. To begin with, I'm off. I've had enough of their
+wretched wedding!"
+
+And she left the room in a rage, causing the staircase to shake
+beneath her heavy footsteps. Lorilleux ran after her. But all she
+would consent to was that she would wait five minutes on the pavement
+outside, if he wanted them to go off together. She ought to have left
+directly after the storm, as she wished to do. She would make Coupeau
+sorry for that day. Coupeau was dismayed when he heard how angry she
+was. Gervaise agreed to leave at once to avoid embarrassing him any
+more.
+
+There was a flurry of quick good-night kisses. Monsieur Madinier was
+to escort mother Coupeau home. Madame Boche would take Claude and
+Etienne with her for the bridal night. The children were sound asleep
+on chairs, stuffed full from the dinner. Just as the bridal couple and
+Lorilleux were about to go out the door, a quarrel broke out near the
+dance floor between their group and another group. Boche and My-Boots
+were kissing a lady and wouldn't give her up to her escorts, two
+soldiers.
+
+It was scarcely eleven o'clock. On the Boulevard de la Chapelle, and
+in the entire neighborhood of the Goutte-d'Or, the fortnight's pay,
+which fell due on that Saturday, produced an enormous drunken uproar.
+Madame Lorilleux was waiting beneath a gas-lamp about twenty paces
+from the Silver Windmill. She took her husband's arm, and walked on in
+front without looking round, at such a rate, that Gervaise and Coupeau
+got quite out of breath in trying to keep up with them. Now and again
+they stepped off the pavement to leave room for some drunkard who had
+fallen there. Lorilleux looked back, endeavoring to make things
+pleasant.
+
+"We will see you as far as your door," said he.
+
+But Madame Lorilleux, raising her voice, thought it a funny thing to
+spend one's wedding night in such a filthy hole as the Hotel Boncoeur.
+Ought they not to have put their marriage off, and have saved a few
+sous to buy some furniture, so as to have had a home of their own on
+the first night? Ah! they would be comfortable, right up under the
+roof, packed into a little closet, at ten francs a month, where there
+was not even the slightest air.
+
+"I've given notice, we're not going to use the room up at the top of
+the house," timidly interposed Coupeau. "We are keeping Gervaise's
+room, which is larger."
+
+Madame Lorilleux forgot herself. She turned abruptly round.
+
+"That's worse than all!" cried she. "You're going to sleep in Clump-
+clump's room."
+
+Gervaise became quite pale. This nickname, which she received full in
+the face for the first time, fell on her like a blow. And she fully
+understood it, too, her sister-in-law's exclamation: the Clump-clump's
+room was the room in which she had lived for a month with Lantier,
+where the shreds of her past life still hung about. Coupeau did not
+understand this, but merely felt hurt at the harsh nickname.
+
+"You do wrong to christen others," he replied angrily. "You don't know
+perhaps, that in the neighborhood they call you Cow's-Tail, because of
+your hair. There, that doesn't please you, does it? Why should we not
+keep the room on the first floor? To-night the children won't sleep
+there, and we shall be very comfortable."
+
+Madame Lorilleux added nothing further, but retired into her dignity,
+horribly annoyed at being called Cow's-Tail. To cheer up Gervaise,
+Coupeau squeezed her arm softly. He even succeeded in making her smile
+by whispering into her ear that they were setting up housekeeping with
+the grand sum of seven sous, three big two-sou pieces and one little
+sou, which he jingled in his pocket.
+
+When they reached the Hotel Boncoeur, the two couples wished each
+other good-night, with an angry air; and as Coupeau pushed the two
+women into each other's arms, calling them a couple of ninnies, a
+drunken fellow, who seemed to want to go to the right, suddenly
+slipped to the left and came tumbling between them.
+
+"Why, it's old Bazouge!" said Lorilleux. "He's had his fill to-day."
+
+Gervaise, frightened, squeezed up against the door of the hotel. Old
+Bazouge, an undertaker's helper of some fifty years of age, had his
+black trousers all stained with mud, his black cape hooked on to his
+shoulder, and his black feather hat knocked in by some tumble he had
+taken.
+
+"Don't be afraid, he's harmless," continued Lorilleux. "He's a
+neighbor of ours--the third room in the passage before us. He would
+find himself in a nice mess if his people were to see him like this!"
+
+Old Bazouge, however, felt offended at the young woman's evident
+terror.
+
+"Well, what!" hiccoughed he, "we ain't going to eat any one. I'm as
+good as another any day, my little woman. No doubt I've had a drop!
+When work's plentiful one must grease the wheels. It's not you, nor
+your friends, who would have carried down the stiff 'un of forty-seven
+stone whom I and a pal brought from the fourth floor to the pavement,
+and without smashing him too. I like jolly people."
+
+But Gervaise retreated further into the doorway, seized with a longing
+to cry, which spoilt her day of sober-minded joy. She no longer
+thought of kissing her sister-in-law, she implored Coupeau to get rid
+of the drunkard. Then Bazouge, as he stumbled about, made a gesture of
+philosophical disdain.
+
+"That won't prevent you passing though our hands, my little woman.
+You'll perhaps be glad to do so, one of these days. Yes, I know some
+women who'd be much obliged if we did carry them off."
+
+And, as Lorilleux led him away, he turned around, and stuttered out a
+last sentence, between two hiccoughs.
+
+"When you're dead--listen to this--when you're dead, it's for a long,
+long time."
+
+
+
+                             CHAPTER IV.
+
+Then followed four years of hard work. In the neighborhood, Gervaise
+and Coupeau had the reputation of being a happy couple, living in
+retirement without quarrels, and taking a short walk regularly every
+Sunday in the direction of St. Ouen. The wife worked twelve hours a
+day at Madame Fauconnier's, and still found means to keep their
+lodging as clean and bright as a new coined sou and to prepare the
+meals for all her little family, morning and evening. The husband
+never got drunk, brought his wages home every fortnight, and smoked a
+pipe at his window in the evening, to get a breath of fresh air before
+going to bed. They were frequently alluded to on account of their
+nice, pleasant ways; and as between them they earned close upon nine
+francs a day, it was reckoned that they were able to put by a good
+deal of money.
+
+However, during their first months together they had to struggle hard
+to get by. Their wedding had left them owing two hundred francs. Also,
+they detested the Hotel Boncoeur as they didn't like the other
+occupants. Their dream was to have a home of their own with their own
+furniture. They were always figuring how much they would need and
+decided three hundred and fifty francs at least, in order to be able
+to buy little items that came up later.
+
+They were in despair at ever being able to collect such a large sum
+when a lucky chance came their way. An old gentleman at Plassans
+offered to take the older boy, Claude, and send him to an academy down
+there. The old man, who loved art, had previously been much impressed
+by Claude's sketches. Claude had already begun to cost them quite a
+bit. Now, with only Etienne to support, they were able to accumulate
+the money in a little over seven months. One day they were finally
+able to buy their own furniture from a second-hand dealer on Rue
+Belhomme. Their hearts filled with happiness, they celebrated by
+walking home along the exterior Boulevards.
+
+They had purchased a bed, a night table, a chest of drawers with a
+marble top, a wardrobe, a round table covered with oilcloth, and six
+chairs. All were of dark mahogany. They also bought blankets, linen,
+and kitchen utensils that were scarcely used. It meant settling down
+and giving themselves a status in life as property owners, as persons
+to be respected.
+
+For two months past they had been busy seeking some new apartments. At
+first they wanted above everything to hire these in the big house of
+the Rue de la Goutte-d'Or. But there was not a single room to let
+there; so that they had to relinquish their old dream. To tell the
+truth, Gervaise was rather glad in her heart; the neighborhood of the
+Lorilleux almost door to door, frightened her immensely. Then, they
+looked about elsewhere. Coupeau, very properly did not wish to be far
+from Madame Fauconnier's so that Gervaise could easily run home at any
+hour of the day. And at length they met with exactly what suited them,
+a large room with a small closet and a kitchen, in the Rue Neuve de la
+Goutte-d'Or, almost opposite the laundress's. This was in a small two-
+story building with a very steep staircase. There were two apartments
+on the second floor, one to the left, the other to the right, The
+ground floor was occupied by a man who rented out carriages, which
+filled the sheds in the large stable yard by the street.
+
+Gervaise was delighted with this as it made her feel she was back in a
+country town. With no close neighbors there would be no gossip to
+worry about in this little corner. It reminded her of a small lane
+outside the ramparts of Plassans. She could even see her own window
+while ironing at the laundry by just tilting her head to the side.
+
+They took possession of their new abode at the April quarter. Gervaise
+was then eight months advanced. But she showed great courage, saying
+with a laugh that the baby helped her as she worked; she felt its
+influence growing within her and giving her strength. Ah, well! She
+just laughed at Coupeau whenever he wanted her to lie down and rest
+herself! She would take to her bed when the labor pains came. That
+would be quite soon enough as with another mouth to feed, they would
+have to work harder than ever.
+
+She made their new place bright and shiny before helping her husband
+install the furniture. She loved the furniture, polishing it and
+becoming almost heart-broken at the slightest scratch. Any time she
+knocked into the furniture while cleaning she would stop with a sudden
+shock as though she had hurt herself.
+
+The chest of drawers was especially dear to her. She thought it
+handsome, sturdy and most respectable-looking. The dream that she
+hadn't dared to mention was to get a clock and put it right in the
+middle of the marble top. It would make a splendid effect. She
+probably would have bought one right away except for the expected
+baby.
+
+The couple were thoroughly enchanted with their new home. Etienne's
+bed occupied the small closet, where there was still room to put
+another child's crib. The kitchen was a very tiny affair and as dark
+as night, but by leaving the door wide open, one could just manage to
+see; besides, Gervaise had not to cook meals for thirty people, all
+she wanted was room to make her soup. As for the large room, it was
+their pride. The first thing in the morning, they drew the curtains of
+the alcove, white calico curtains; and the room was thus transformed
+into a dining-room, with the table in the centre, and the wardrobe and
+chest of drawers facing each other.
+
+They stopped up the chimney since it burned as much as fifteen sous of
+coal a day. A small cast-iron stove on the marble hearth gave them
+enough warmth on cold days for only seven sous. Coupeau had also done
+his best to decorate the walls. There was a large engraving showing a
+marshal of France on horseback with a baton in his hand. Family
+photographs were arranged in two rows on top of the chest of drawers
+on each side of an old holy-water basin in which they kept matches.
+Busts of Pascal and Beranger were on top of the wardrobe. It was
+really a handsome room.
+
+"Guess how much we pay here?" Gervaise would ask of every visitor she
+had.
+
+And whenever they guessed too high a sum, she triumphed and delighted
+at being so well suited for such a little money, cried:
+
+"One hundred and fifty francs, not a sou more! Isn't it almost like
+having it for nothing!"
+
+The street, Rue Neuve de la Goutte d'Or, played an important part in
+their contentment. Gervaise's whole life was there, as she traveled
+back and forth endlessly between her home and Madame Fauconnier's
+laundry. Coupeau now went down every evening and stood on the doorstep
+to smoke his pipe. The poorly-paved street rose steeply and had no
+sidewalks. Toward Rue de la Goutte d'Or there were some gloomy shops
+with dirty windows. There were shoemakers, coopers, a run-down
+grocery, and a bankrupt cafe whose closed shutters were covered with
+posters. In the opposite direction, toward Paris, four-story buildings
+blocked the sky. Their ground floor shops were all occupied by
+laundries with one exception--a green-painted store front typical of a
+small-town hair-dresser. Its shop windows were full of variously
+colored flasks. It lighted up this drab corner with the gay brightness
+of its copper bowls which were always shining.
+
+The most pleasant part of the street was in between, where the
+buildings were fewer and lower, letting in more sunlight. The carriage
+sheds, the plant which manufactured soda water, and the wash-house
+opposite made a wide expanse of quietness. The muffled voices of the
+washerwomen and the rhythmic puffing of the steam engine seemed to
+deepen the almost religious silence. Open fields and narrow lanes
+vanishing between dark walls gave it the air of a country village.
+Coupeau, always amused by the infrequent pedestrians having to jump
+over the continuous streams of soapy water, said it reminded him of a
+country town where his uncle had taken him when he was five years old.
+Gervaise's greatest joy was a tree growing in the courtyard to the
+left of their window, an acacia that stretched out a single branch and
+yet, with its meager foliage, lent charm to the entire street.
+
+It was on the last day of April that Gervaise was confined. The pains
+came on in the afternoon, towards four o'clock, as she was ironing a
+pair of curtains at Madame Fauconnier's. She would not go home at
+once, but remained there wriggling about on a chair, and continuing
+her ironing every time the pain allowed her to do so; the curtains
+were wanted quickly and she obstinately made a point of finishing
+them. Besides, perhaps after all it was only a colic; it would never
+do to be frightened by a bit of a stomach-ache. But as she was talking
+of starting on some shirts, she became quite pale. She was obliged to
+leave the work-shop, and cross the street doubled in two, holding on
+to the walls. One of the workwomen offered to accompany her; she
+declined, but begged her to go instead for the midwife, close by, in
+the Rue de la Charbonniere. This was only a false alarm; there was no
+need to make a fuss. She would be like that no doubt all through the
+night. It was not going to prevent her getting Coupeau's dinner ready
+as soon as she was indoors; then she might perhaps lie down on the bed
+a little, but without undressing. On the staircase she was seized with
+such a violent pain, that she was obliged to sit down on one of the
+stairs; and she pressed her two fists against her mouth to prevent
+herself from crying out, for she would have been ashamed to have been
+found there by any man, had one come up. The pain passed away; she was
+able to open her door, feeling relieved, and thinking that she had
+decidedly been mistaken. That evening she was going to make a stew
+with some neck chops. All went well while she peeled the potatoes. The
+chops were cooking in a saucepan when the pains returned. She mixed
+the gravy as she stamped about in front of the stove, almost blinded
+with her tears. If she was going to give birth, that was no reason why
+Coupeau should be kept without his dinner. At length the stew began to
+simmer on a fire covered with cinders. She went into the other room,
+and thought she would have time to lay the cloth at one end of the
+table. But she was obliged to put down the bottle of wine very
+quickly; she no longer had strength to reach the bed; she fell
+prostrate, and she had more pains on a mat on the floor. When the
+midwife arrived, a quarter of an hour later, she found mother and baby
+lying there on the floor.
+
+The zinc-worker was still employed at the hospital. Gervaise would not
+have him disturbed. When he came home at seven o'clock, he found her
+in bed, well covered up, looking very pale on the pillow, and the
+child crying, swathed in a shawl at it's mother's feet.
+
+"Ah, my poor wife!" said Coupeau, kissing Gervaise. "And I was joking
+only an hour ago, whilst you were crying with pain! I say, you don't
+make much fuss about it--the time to sneeze and it's all over."
+
+She smiled faintly; then she murmured: "It's a girl."
+
+"Right!" the zinc-worker replied, joking so as to enliven her, "I
+ordered a girl! Well, now I've got what I wanted! You do everything I
+wish!" And, taking the child up in his arms, he continued: "Let's have
+a look at you, miss! You've got a very black little mug. It'll get
+whiter, never fear. You must be good, never run about the streets, and
+grow up sensible like your papa and mamma."
+
+Gervaise looked at her daughter very seriously, with wide open eyes,
+slowly overshadowed with sadness, for she would rather have had a boy.
+Boys can talk care of themselves and don't have to run such risks on
+the streets of Paris as girls do. The midwife took the infant from
+Coupeau. She forbade Gervaise to do any talking; it was bad enough
+there was so much noise around her.
+
+Then the zinc-worker said that he must tell the news to mother Coupeau
+and the Lorilleuxs, but he was dying with hunger, he must first of all
+have his dinner. It was a great worry to the invalid to see him have
+to wait on himself, run to the kitchen for the stew, eat it out of a
+soup plate, and not be able to find the bread. In spite of being told
+not to do so, she bewailed her condition, and fidgeted about in her
+bed. It was stupid of her not to have managed to set the cloth, the
+pains had laid her on her back like a blow from a bludgeon. Her poor
+old man would not think it kind of her to be nursing herself up there
+whilst he was dining so badly. At least were the potatoes cooked
+enough? She no longer remembered whether she had put salt in them.
+
+"Keep quiet!" cried the midwife.
+
+"Ah! if only you could stop her from wearing herself out!" said
+Coupeau with his mouth full. "If you were not here, I'd bet she'd get
+up to cut my bread. Keep on your back, you big goose! You mustn't move
+about, otherwise it'll be a fortnight before you'll be able to stand
+on your legs. Your stew's very good. Madame will eat some with me,
+won't you, Madame?"
+
+The midwife declined; but she was willing to accept a glass of wine,
+because it had upset her, said she to find the poor woman with the
+baby on the mat. Coupeau at length went off to tell the news to his
+relations. Half an hour later he returned with all of them, mother
+Coupeau, the Lorilleuxs, and Madame Lerat, whom he had met at the
+latter's.
+
+"I've brought you the whole gang!" cried Coupeau. "It can't be helped!
+They wanted to see you. Don't open your mouth, it's forbidden. They'll
+stop here and look at you without ceremony, you know. As for me, I'm
+going to make them some coffee, and of the right sort!"
+
+He disappeared into the kitchen. Mother Coupeau after kissing
+Gervaise, became amazed at the child's size. The two other women also
+kissed the invalid on her cheeks. And all three, standing before the
+bed, commented with divers exclamations on the details of the
+confinement--a most remarkable confinement, just like having a tooth
+pulled, nothing more.
+
+Madame Lerat examined the baby all over, declared she was well formed,
+even added that she could grow up into an attractive woman. Noticing
+that the head had been squeezed into a point on top, she kneaded it
+gently despite the infant's cries, trying to round it a bit. Madame
+Lorilleux grabbed the baby from her; that could be enough to give the
+poor little thing all sorts of vicious tendencies, meddling with it
+like that while her skull was still soft. She then tried to figure out
+who the baby resembled. This almost led to a quarrel. Lorilleux,
+peering over the women's shoulders, insisted that the little girl
+didn't look the least bit like Coupeau. Well, maybe a little around
+the nose, nothing more. She was her mother all over again, with big
+eyes like hers. Certainly there were no eyes like that in the Coupeau
+family.
+
+Coupeau, however, had failed to reappear. One could hear him in the
+kitchen struggling with the grate and the coffee-pot. Gervaise was
+worrying herself frightfully; it was not the proper thing for a man to
+make coffee; and she called and told him what to do, without listening
+to the midwife's energetic "hush!"
+
+"Here we are!" said Coupeau, entering with the coffee-pot in his hand.
+"Didn't I just have a bother with it! It all went wrong on purpose!
+Now we'll drink out of glasses, won't we? Because you know, the cups
+are still at the shop."
+
+They seated themselves around the table, and the zinc-worker insisted
+on pouring out the coffee himself. It smelt very strong, it was none
+of that weak stuff. When the midwife had sipped hers up, she went off;
+everything was going on nicely, she was not required. If the young
+woman did not pass a good night they were to send for her on the
+morrow. She was scarcely down the staircase, when Madame Lorilleux
+called her a glutton and a good-for-nothing. She put four lumps of
+sugar in her coffee, and charged fifteen francs for leaving you with
+your baby all by yourself. But Coupeau took her part; he would
+willingly fork out the fifteen francs. After all those sort of women
+spent their youth in studying, they were right to charge a good price.
+
+It was then Lorilleux who got into a quarrel with Madame Lerat by
+maintaining that, in order to have a son, the head of the bed should
+be turned to the north. She shrugged her shoulders at such nonsense,
+offering another formula which consisted in hiding under the mattress,
+without letting your wife know, a handful of fresh nettles picked in
+bright sunlight.
+
+The table had been pushed over close to the bed. Until ten o'clock
+Gervaise lay there, smiling although she was only half awake. She was
+becoming more and more weary, her head turned sideways on the pillow.
+She no longer had the energy to venture a remark or a gesture. It
+seemed to her that she was dead, a very sweet death, from the depths
+of which she was happy to observe the others still in the land of the
+living. The thin cries of her baby daughter rose above the hum of
+heavy voices that were discussing a recent murder on Rue du Bon Puits,
+at the other end of La Chapelle.
+
+Then, as the visitors were thinking of leaving, they spoke of the
+christening. The Lorilleux had promised to be godfather and godmother;
+they looked very glum over the matter. However, if they had not been
+asked to stand they would have felt rather peculiar. Coupeau did not
+see any need for christening the little one; it certainly would not
+procure her an income of ten thousand francs, and besides she might
+catch a cold from it. The less one had to do with priests the better.
+But mother Coupeau called him a heathen. The Lorilleux, without going
+and eating consecrated bread in church, plumed themselves on their
+religious sentiments.
+
+"It shall be next Sunday, if you like," said the chainmaker.
+
+And Gervaise having consented by a nod, everyone kissed her and told
+her to take good care of herself. They also wished the baby good-bye.
+Each one went and leant over the little trembling body with smiles and
+loving words as though she were able to understand. They called her
+Nana, the pet name for Anna, which was her godmother's name.
+
+"Good night, Nana. Come be a good girl, Nana."
+
+When they had at length gone off, Coupeau drew his chair close up to
+the bed and finished his pipe, holding Gervaise's hand in his. He
+smoked slowly, deeply affected and uttering sentences between the
+puffs.
+
+"Well, old woman, they've made your head ache, haven't they? You see I
+couldn't prevent them coming. After all, it shows their friendship.
+But we're better alone, aren't we? I wanted to be alone like this with
+you. It has seemed such a long evening to me! Poor little thing, she's
+had a lot to go through! Those shrimps, when they come out into the
+world, have no idea of the pain they cause. It must really almost be
+like being split in two. Where is does it hurt the most, that I may
+kiss it and make it well?"
+
+He had carefully slid one of his big hands under her back, and now he
+drew her toward him, bending over to kiss her stomach through the
+covers, touched by a rough man's compassion for the suffering of a
+woman in childbirth. He inquired if he was hurting her. Gervaise felt
+very happy, and answered him that it didn't hurt any more at all. She
+was only worried about getting up as soon as possible, because there
+was no time to lie about now. He assured her that he'd be responsible
+for earning the money for the new little one. He would be a real bum
+if he abandoned her and the little rascal. The way he figured it, what
+really counted was bringing her up properly. Wasn't that so?
+
+Coupeau did not sleep much that night. He covered up the fire in the
+stove. Every hour he had to get up to give the baby spoonfuls of
+lukewarm sugar and water. That did not prevent his going off to his
+work in the morning as usual. He even took advantage of his lunch-hour
+to make a declaration of the birth at the mayor's. During this time
+Madame Boche, who had been informed of the event, had hastened to go
+and pass the day with Gervaise. But the latter, after ten hours of
+sleep, bewailed her position, saying that she already felt pains all
+over her through having been so long in bed. She would become quite
+ill if they did not let her get up. In the evening, when Coupeau
+returned home, she told him all her worries; no doubt she had
+confidence in Madame Boche, only it put her beside herself to see a
+stranger installed in her room, opening the drawers, and touching her
+things.
+
+On the morrow the concierge, on returning from some errand, found her
+up, dressed, sweeping and getting her husband's dinner ready; and it
+was impossible to persuade her to go to bed again. They were trying to
+make a fool of her perhaps! It was all very well for ladies to pretend
+to be unable to move. When one was not rich one had no time for that
+sort of thing. Three days after her confinement she was ironing
+petticoats at Madame Fauconnier's, banging her irons and all in a
+perspiration from the great heat of the stove.
+
+On the Saturday evening, Madame Lorilleux brought her presents for her
+godchild--a cup that cost thirty-five sous, and a christening dress,
+plaited and trimmed with some cheap lace, which she had got for six
+francs, because it was slightly soiled. On the morrow, Lorilleux, as
+godfather, gave the mother six pounds of sugar. They certainly did
+things properly! At the baptism supper which took place at the
+Coupeaus that evening, they did not come empty-handed. Lorilleux
+carried a bottle of fine wine under each arm and his wife brought a
+large custard pie from a famous pastry shop on Chaussee Clignancourt.
+But the Lorilleuxs made sure that the entire neighborhood knew they
+had spent twenty francs. As soon as Gervaise learned of their
+gossiping, furious, she stopped giving them credit for generosity.
+
+It was at the christening feast that the Coupeaus ended by becoming
+intimately acquainted with their neighbors on the opposite side of the
+landing. The other lodging in the little house was occupied by two
+persons, mother and son, the Goujets as they were called. Until then
+the two families had merely nodded to each other on the stairs and in
+the street, nothing more; the Coupeaus thought their neighbors seemed
+rather bearish. Then the mother, having carried up a pail of water for
+Gervaise on the morrow of her confinement, the latter had thought it
+the proper thing to invite them to the feast, more especially as she
+considered them very respectable people. And naturally, they there
+became well acquainted with each other.
+
+The Goujets came from the Departement du Nord. The mother mended lace;
+the son, a blacksmith, worked at an iron bolt factory. They had lived
+in their lodging for five years. Behind the quiet peacefulness of
+their life, a long standing sorrow was hidden. Goujet the father, one
+day when furiously drunk at Lille, had beaten a comrade to death with
+an iron bar and had afterwards strangled himself in prison with his
+handkerchief. The widow and child, who had come to Paris after their
+misfortune, always felt the tragedy hanging over their heads, and
+atoned for it by a strict honesty and an unvarying gentleness and
+courage. They had a certain amount of pride in their attitude and
+regarded themselves as better than other people.
+
+Madame Goujet, dressed in black as usual, her forehead framed in a
+nun's hood, had a pale, calm, matronly face, as if the whiteness of
+the lace and the delicate work of her fingers had cast a glow of
+serenity over her. Goujet was twenty-three years old, huge,
+magnificently built, with deep blue eyes and rosy cheeks, and the
+strength of Hercules. His comrades at the shop called him "Golden
+Mouth" because of his handsome blonde beard.
+
+Gervaise at once felt a great friendship for these people. When she
+entered their home for the first time, she was amazed at the
+cleanliness of the lodging. There was no denying it, one might blow
+about the place without raising a grain of dust; and the tiled floor
+shone like a mirror. Madame Goujet made her enter her son's room, just
+to see it. It was pretty and white like the room of a young girl; an
+iron bedstead with muslin curtains, a table, a washstand, and a narrow
+bookcase hanging against the wall. Then there were pictures all over
+the place, figures cut out, colored engravings nailed up with four
+tacks, and portraits of all kinds of persons taken from the
+illustrated papers.
+
+Madame Goujet said with a smile that her son was a big baby. He found
+that reading in the evening put him to sleep, so he amused himself
+looking at pictures. Gervaise spent an hour with her neighbor without
+noticing the passing of time. Madame Goujet had gone to sit by the
+window and work on her lace. Gervaise was fascinated by the hundreds
+of pins that held the lace, and she felt happy to be there, breathing
+in the good clean atmosphere of this home where such a delicate task
+enforced a sort of meditative silence.
+
+The Goujets were worth visiting. They worked long hours, and placed
+more than a quarter of their fortnight's earnings in the savings-bank.
+In the neighborhood everyone nodded to them, everyone talked of their
+savings. Goujet never had a hole in his clothes, always went out in a
+clean short blue blouse, without a stain. He was very polite, and even
+a trifle timid, in spite of his broad shoulders. The washerwomen at
+the end of the street laughed to see him hold down his head when he
+passed them. He did not like their oaths, and thought it disgusting
+that women should be constantly uttering foul words. One day, however,
+he came home tipsy. Then Madame Goujet, for sole reproach, held his
+father's portrait before him, a daub of a painting hidden away at the
+bottom of a drawer; and, ever since that lesson, Goujet never drank
+more than was good for him, without however, any hatred of wine, for
+wine is necessary to the workman. On Sundays he walked out with his
+mother, who took hold of his arm. He would generally conduct her to
+Vincennes; at other times they would go to the theatre. His mother
+remained his passion. He still spoke to her as though he were a little
+child. Square-headed, his skin toughened by the wielding of the heavy
+hammer, he somewhat resembled the larger animals: dull of intellect,
+though good-natured all the same.
+
+In the early days of their acquaintance, Gervaise embarrassed him
+immensely. Then in a few weeks he became accustomed to her. He watched
+for her that he might carry up her parcels, treated her as a sister,
+with an abrupt familiarity, and cut out pictures for her. One morning,
+however, having opened her door without knocking, he beheld her half
+undressed, washing her neck; and, for a week, he did not dare to look
+her in the face, so much so that he ended by making her blush herself.
+
+Young Cassis, with the casual wit of a born Parisian, called Golden
+Mouth a dolt. It was all right not to get drunk all the time or chase
+women, but still, a man must be a man, or else he might as well wear
+skirts. Coupeau teased him in front of Gervaise, accusing him of
+making up to all the women in the neighborhood. Goujet vigorously
+defended himself against the charge.
+
+But this didn't prevent the two workingmen from becoming best of
+friends. They went off to work together in the mornings and sometimes
+had a glass of beer together on the way home.
+
+It eventually came about that Golden Mouth could render a service to
+Young Cassis, one of those favors that is remembered forever.
+
+It was the second of December. The zinc-worker decided, just for the
+fun of it, to go into the city and watch the rioting. He didn't really
+care about the Republic, or Napoleon or anything like that, but he
+liked the smell of gunpowder and the sound of the rifles firing. He
+would have been arrested as a rioter if the blacksmith hadn't turned
+up at the barricade at just that moment and helped him escape. Goujet
+was very serious as they walked back up the Rue du Faubourg
+Poissonniere. He was interested in politics and believed in the
+Republic. But he had never fired a gun because the common people were
+getting tired of fighting battles for the middle classes who always
+seemed to get the benefit of them.
+
+As they reached the top of the slope of the Rue du Faubourg
+Poissonniere, Goujet turned to look back at Paris and the mobs. After
+all, some day people would be sorry that they just stood by and did
+nothing. Coupeau laughed at this, saying you would be pretty stupid to
+risk your neck just to preserve the twenty-five francs a day for the
+lazybones in the Legislative Assembly. That evening the Coupeaus
+invited the Goujets to dinner. After desert Young Cassis and Golden
+Mouth kissed each other on the cheek. Their lives were joined till
+death.
+
+For three years the existence of the two families went on, on either
+side of the landing, without an event. Gervaise was able to take care
+of her daughter and still work most of the week. She was now a skilled
+worker on fine laundry and earned up to three francs a day. She
+decided to put Etienne, now nearly eight, into a small boarding-school
+on Rue de Chartres for five francs a week. Despite the expenses for
+the two children, they were able to save twenty or thirty francs each
+month. Once they had six hundred francs saved, Gervaise often lay
+awake thinking of her ambitious dream: she wanted to rent a small
+shop, hire workers, and go into the laundry business herself. If this
+effort worked, they would have a steady income from savings in twenty
+years. They could retire and live in the country.
+
+Yet she hesitated, saying she was looking for the right shop. She was
+giving herself time to think it over. Their savings were safe in the
+bank, and growing larger. So, in three years' time she had only
+fulfilled one of her dreams--she had bought a clock. But even this
+clock, made of rosewood with twined columns and a pendulum of gilded
+brass, was being paid for in installments of twenty-two sous each
+Monday for a year. She got upset if Coupeau tried to wind it; she
+liked to be the only one to lift off the glass dome. It was under the
+glass dome, behind the clock, that she hid her bank book. Sometimes,
+when she was dreaming of her shop, she would stare fixedly at the
+clock, lost in thought.
+
+The Coupeaus went out nearly every Sunday with the Goujets. They were
+pleasant little excursions, sometimes to have some fried fish at
+Saint-Ouen, at others a rabbit at Vincennes, in the garden of some
+eating-house keeper without any grand display. The men drank
+sufficient to quench their thirst, and returned home as right as nine-
+pins, giving their arms to the ladies. In the evening before going to
+bed, the two families made up accounts and each paid half the
+expenses; and there was never the least quarrel about a sou more or
+less.
+
+The Lorilleuxs became jealous of the Goujets. It seemed strange to
+them to see Young Cassis and Clump-clump going places all the time
+with strangers instead of their own relations. But, that's the way it
+was; some folks didn't care a bit about their family. Now that they
+had saved a few sous, they thought they were really somebody. Madame
+Lorilleux was much annoyed to see her brother getting away from her
+influence and begin to continually run down Gervaise to everyone. On
+the other hand, Madame Lerat took the young wife's side. Mother
+Coupeau tried to get along with everybody. She only wanted to be
+welcomed by all three of her children. Now that her eyesight was
+getting dimmer and dimmer she only had one regular house cleaning job
+but she was able to pick up some small jobs now and again.
+
+On the day on which Nana was three years old, Coupeau, on returning
+home in the evening, found Gervaise quite upset. She refused to talk
+about it; there was nothing at all the matter with her, she said. But,
+as she had the table all wrong, standing still with the plates in her
+hands, absorbed in deep reflection, her husband insisted upon knowing
+what was the matter.
+
+"Well, it is this," she ended by saying, "the little draper's shop in
+the Rue de la Goutte-d'Or, is to let. I saw it only an hour ago, when
+going to buy some cotton. It gave me quite a turn."
+
+It was a very decent shop, and in that big house where they dreamed of
+living in former days. There was the shop, a back room, and two other
+rooms to the right and left; in short, just what they required. The
+rooms were rather small, but well placed. Only, she considered they
+wanted too much; the landlord talked of five hundred francs.
+
+"So you've been over the place, and asked the price?" said Coupeau.
+
+"Oh! you know, only out of curiosity!" replied she, affecting an air
+of indifference. "One looks about, and goes in wherever there's a bill
+up--that doesn't bind one to anything. But that shop is altogether too
+dear. Besides, it would perhaps be foolish of me to set up in
+business."
+
+However, after dinner, she again referred to the draper's shop. She
+drew a plan of the place on the margin of a newspaper. And, little by
+little, she talked it over, measuring the corners, and arranging the
+rooms, as though she were going to move all her furniture in there on
+the morrow. Then Coupeau advised her to take it, seeing how she wanted
+to do so; she would certainly never find anything decent under five
+hundred francs; besides they might perhaps get a reduction. He knew
+only one objection to it and that was living in the same house as the
+Lorilleux, whom she could not bear.
+
+Gervaise declared that she wasn't mad at anybody. So much did she want
+her own shop that she even spoke up for the Lorilleuxs, saying that
+they weren't mean at heart and that she would be able to get along
+just fine with them. When they went to bed, Coupeau fell asleep
+immediately, but she stayed awake, planning how she could arrange the
+new place even though she hadn't yet made up her mind completely.
+
+On the morrow, when she was alone, she could not resist removing the
+glass cover from the clock, and taking a peep at the savings-bank
+book. To think that her shop was there, in those dirty pages, covered
+with ugly writing! Before going off to her work, she consulted Madame
+Goujet, who highly approved her project of setting up in business for
+herself; with a husband like hers, a good fellow who did not drink,
+she was certain of getting on, and of not having her earnings
+squandered. At the luncheon hour Gervaise even called on the
+Lorilleuxs to ask their advice; she did not wish to appear to be doing
+anything unknown to the family. Madame Lorilleux was struck all of a
+heap. What! Clump-clump was going in for a shop now! And her heart
+bursting with envy, she stammered, and tried to pretend to be pleased:
+no doubt the shop was a convenient one--Gervaise was right in taking
+it. However, when she had somewhat recovered, she and her husband
+talked of the dampness of the courtyard, of the poor light of the
+rooms on the ground floor. Oh! it was a good place for rheumatism.
+Yet, if she had made up her mind to take it, their observations, of
+course, would not make her alter her decision.
+
+That evening Gervaise frankly owned with a laugh that she would have
+fallen ill if she had been prevented from having the shop.
+Nevertheless, before saying "it's done!" she wished to take Coupeau to
+see the place, and try and obtain a reduction in the rent.
+
+"Very well, then, to-morrow, if you like," said her husband. "You can
+come and fetch me towards six o'clock at the house where I'm working,
+in the Rue de la Nation, and we'll call in at the Rue de la Goutte-
+d'Or on our way home."
+
+Coupeau was then finishing the roofing of a new three-storied house.
+It so happened that on that day he was to fix the last sheets of zinc.
+As the roof was almost flat, he had set up his bench on it, a wide
+shutter supported on two trestles. A beautiful May sun was setting,
+giving a golden hue to the chimney-pots. And, right up at the top,
+against the clear sky, the workman was quietly cutting up his zinc
+with a big pair of shears, leaning over the bench, and looking like a
+tailor in his shop cutting out a pair of trousers. Close to the wall
+of the next house, his boy, a youngster of seventeen, thin and fair,
+was keeping the fire of the chafing dish blazing by the aid of an
+enormous pair of bellows, each puff of which raised a cloud of sparks.
+
+"Hi! Zidore, put in the irons!" cried Coupeau.
+
+The boy stuck the soldering irons into the midst of the charcoal,
+which looked a pale rose color in the daylight. Then he resumed
+blowing. Coupeau held the last sheet of zinc. It had to be placed at
+the edge of the roof, close to the gutter-pipe; there was an abrupt
+slant there, and the gaping void of the street opened beneath. The
+zinc-worker, just as though in his own home, wearing his list-shoes,
+advanced, dragging his feet, and whistling the air, "Oh! the little
+lambs." Arrived in front of the opening, he let himself down, and
+then, supporting himself with one knee against the masonry of a
+chimney-stack, remained half-way out over the pavement below. One of
+his legs dangled. When he leant back to call that young viper, Zidore,
+he held on to a corner of the masonry, on account of the street
+beneath him.
+
+"You confounded dawdler! Give me the irons! It's no use looking up in
+the air, you skinny beggar! The larks won't tumble into your mouth
+already cooked!"
+
+But Zidore did not hurry himself. He was interested in the neighboring
+roofs, and in a cloud of smoke which rose from the other side of
+Paris, close to Grenelle; it was very likely a fire. However, he came
+and laid down on his stomach, his head over the opening, and he passed
+the irons to Coupeau. Then the latter commenced to solder the sheet.
+He squatted, he stretched, always managing to balance himself,
+sometimes seated on one side, at other times standing on the tip of
+one foot, often only holding on by a finger. He had a confounded
+assurance, the devil's own cheek, familiar with danger, and braving
+it. It knew him. It was the street that was afraid, not he. As he kept
+his pipe in his mouth, he turned round every now and then to spit onto
+the pavement.
+
+"Look, there's Madame Boche," he suddenly exclaimed and called down to
+her. "Hi! Madame Boche."
+
+He had just caught sight of the concierge crossing the road. She
+raised her head and recognised him, and a conversation ensured between
+them. She hid her hands under her apron, her nose elevated in the air.
+He, standing up now, his left arm passed round a chimney-pot, leant
+over.
+
+"Have you seen my wife?" asked he.
+
+"No, I haven't," replied the concierge. "Is she around here?"
+
+"She's coming to fetch me. And are they all well at home?"
+
+"Why, yes, thanks; I'm the most ill, as you see. I'm going to the
+Chaussee Clignancourt to buy a small leg of mutton. The butcher near
+the Moulin-Rouge only charges sixteen sous."
+
+They raised their voices, because a vehicle was passing. In the wide,
+deserted Rue de la Nation, their words, shouted out with all their
+might, had only caused a little old woman to come to her window; and
+this little old woman remained there leaning out, giving herself the
+treat of a grand emotion by watching that man on the roof over the
+way, as though she expected to see him fall, from one minute to
+another.
+
+"Well! Good evening," cried Madame Boche. "I won't disturb you."
+
+Coupeau turned round, and took back the iron that Zidore was holding
+for him. But just as the concierge was moving off, she caught sight of
+Gervaise on the other side of the way, holding Nana by the hand. She
+was already raising her head to tell the zinc-worker, when the young
+woman closed her mouth by an energetic gesture, and, in a low voice,
+so as not to be heard up there, she told her of her fear: she was
+afraid, by showing herself suddenly, of giving her husband a shock
+which might make him lose his balance. During the four years, she had
+only been once to fetch him at his work. That day was the second time.
+She could not witness it, her blood turned cold when she beheld her
+old man between heaven and earth, in places where even the sparrows
+would not venture.
+
+"No doubt, it's not pleasant," murmured Madame Boche. "My husband's a
+tailor, so I have none of these terrors."
+
+"If you only knew, in the early days," said Gervaise again, "I had
+frights from morning till night. I was always seeing him on a
+stretcher, with his head smashed. Now, I don't think of it so much.
+One gets used to everything. Bread must be earned. All the same, it's
+a precious dear loaf, for one risks one's bones more than is fair."
+
+And she left off speaking, hiding Nana in her skirt, fearing a cry
+from the little one. Very pale, she looked up in spite of herself. At
+that moment Coupeau was soldering the extreme edge of the sheet close
+to the gutter; he slid down as far as possible, but without being able
+to reach the edge. Then, he risked himself with those slow movements
+peculiar to workmen. For an instant he was immediately over the
+pavement, no long holding on, all absorbed in his work; and, from
+below, one could see the little white flame of the solder frizzling up
+beneath the carefully wielded iron. Gervaise, speechless, her throat
+contracted with anguish, had clasped her hands together, and held them
+up in mechanical gesture of prayer. But she breathed freely as Coupeau
+got up and returned back along the roof, without hurrying himself, and
+taking the time to spit once more into the street.
+
+"Ah! ah! so you've been playing the spy on me!" cried he, gaily, on
+beholding her. "She's been making a stupid of herself, eh, Madame
+Boche? She wouldn't call to me. Wait a bit, I shall have finished in
+ten minutes."
+
+All that remained to do was to fix the top of the chimney--a mere
+nothing. The laundress and the concierge waited on the pavement,
+discussing the neighborhood, and giving an eye to Nana, to prevent her
+from dabbling in the gutter, where she wanted to look for little
+fishes; and the two women kept glancing up at the roof, smiling and
+nodding their heads, as though to imply that they were not losing
+patience. The old woman opposite had not left her window, had
+continued watching the man, and waiting.
+
+"Whatever can she have to look at, that old she-goat?" said Madame
+Boche. "What a mug she has!"
+
+One could hear the loud voice of the zinc-worker up above singing,
+"Ah! it's nice to gather strawberries!" Bending over his bench, he was
+now artistically cutting out his zinc. With his compasses he traced a
+line, and he detached a large fan-shaped piece with the aid of a pair
+of curved shears; then he lightly bent this fan with his hammer into
+the form of a pointed mushroom. Zidore was again blowing the charcoal
+in the chafing-dish. The sun was setting behind the house in a
+brilliant rosy light, which was gradually becoming paler, and turning
+to a delicate lilac. And, at this quiet hour of the day, right up
+against the sky, the silhouettes of the two workmen, looking
+inordinately large, with the dark line of the bench, and the strange
+profile of the bellows, stood out from the limpid back-ground of the
+atmosphere.
+
+When the chimney-top was got into shape, Coupeau called out: "Zidore!
+The irons!"
+
+But Zidore had disappeared. The zinc-worker swore, and looked about
+for him, even calling him through the open skylight of the loft. At
+length he discovered him on a neighboring roof, two houses off. The
+young rogue was taking a walk, exploring the environs, his fair scanty
+locks blowing in the breeze, his eyes blinking as they beheld the
+immensity of Paris.
+
+"I say, lazy bones! Do you think you're having a day in the country?"
+asked Coupeau, in a rage. "You're like Monsieur Beranger, composing
+verses, perhaps! Will you give me those irons! Did any one ever see
+such a thing! Strolling about on the house-tops! Why not bring your
+sweetheart at once, and tell her of your love? Will you give me those
+irons? You confounded little shirker!"
+
+He finished his soldering, and called to Gervaise: "There, it's done.
+I'm coming down."
+
+The chimney-pot to which he had to fix the flue was in the middle of
+the roof. Gervaise, who was no longer uneasy, continued to smile as
+she followed his movements. Nana, amused all on a sudden by the view
+of her father, clapped her little hands. She had seated herself on the
+pavement to see the better up there.
+
+"Papa! Papa!" called she with all her might. "Papa! Just look!"
+
+The zinc-worker wished to lean forward, but his foot slipped. Then
+suddenly, stupidly, like a cat with its legs entangled, he rolled and
+descended the slight slope of the roof without being able to grab hold
+of anything.
+
+"/Mon Dieu/," he cried in a choked voice.
+
+And he fell. His body described a gentle curve, turned twice over on
+itself, and came smashing into the middle of the street with the dull
+thud of a bundle of clothes thrown from on high.
+
+Gervaise, stupefied, her throat rent by one great cry, stood holding
+up her arms. Some passers-by hastened to the spot; a crowd soon
+formed. Madame Boche, utterly upset, her knees bending under her, took
+Nana in her arms, to hide her head and prevent her seeing. Meanwhile,
+the little old woman opposite quietly closed her window, as though
+satisfied.
+
+Four men ended by carrying Coupeau into a chemist's, at the corner of
+the Rue des Poissonniers; and he remained there on a blanket, in the
+middle of the shop, whist they sent to the Lariboisiere Hospital for a
+stretcher. He was still breathing.
+
+Gervaise, sobbing, was kneeling on the floor beside him, her face
+smudged with tears, stunned and unseeing. Her hands would reach to
+feel her husband's limbs with the utmost gentleness. Then she would
+draw back as she had been warned not to touch him. But a few seconds
+later she would touch him to assure herself that he was still warm,
+feeling somehow that she was helping him.
+
+When the stretcher at length arrived, and they talked of starting for
+the hospital, she got up, saying violently:
+
+"No, no, not to the hospital! We live in the Rue Neuve de la Goutte-
+d'Or."
+
+It was useless for them to explain to her that the illness would cost
+her a great deal of money, if she took her husband home. She
+obstinately repeated:
+
+"Rue Neuve de la Goutte-d'Or; I will show you the house. What can it
+matter to you? I've got money. He's my husband, isn't he? He's mine,
+and I want him at home."
+
+And they had to take Coupeau to his own home. When the stretcher was
+carried through the crowd which was crushing up against the chemist's
+shop, the women of the neighborhood were excitedly talking of
+Gervaise. She limped, the dolt, but all the same she had some pluck.
+She would be sure to save her old man; whilst at the hospital the
+doctors let the patients die who were very bad, so as not to have the
+bother of trying to cure them. Madame Boche, after taking Nana home
+with her, returned, and gave her account of the accident, with
+interminable details, and still feeling agitated with the emotion she
+had passed through.
+
+"I was going to buy a leg of mutton; I was there, I saw him fall,"
+repeated she. "It was all through the little one; he turned to look at
+her, and bang! Ah! good heavens! I never want to see such a sight
+again. However, I must be off to get my leg of mutton."
+
+For a week Coupeau was very bad. The family, the neighbors, everyone,
+expected to see him turn for the worse at any moment. The doctor--a
+very expensive doctor, who charged five francs for each visit--
+apprehended internal injuries, and these words filled everyone with
+fear. It was said in the neighborhood that the zinc-worker's heart had
+been injured by the shock. Gervaise alone, looking pale through her
+nights of watching, serious and resolute, shrugged her shoulders. Her
+old man's right leg was broken, everyone knew that; it would be set
+for him, and that was all. As for the rest, the injured heart, that
+was nothing. She knew how to restore a heart with ceaseless care. She
+was certain of getting him well and displayed magnificent faith. She
+stayed close by him and caressed him gently during the long bouts of
+fever without a moment of doubt. She was on her feet continuously for
+a whole week, completely absorbed by her determination to save him.
+She forgot the street outside, the entire city, and even her own
+children. On the ninth day, the doctor finally said that Coupeau would
+live. Gervaise collapsed into a chair, her body limp from fatigue.
+That night she consented to sleep for two hours with her head against
+the foot of the bed.
+
+Coupeau's accident had created quite a commotion in the family. Mother
+Coupeau passed the nights with Gervaise; but as early as nine o'clock
+she fell asleep on a chair. Every evening, on returning from work,
+Madame Lerat went a long round out of her way to inquire how her
+brother was getting on. At first the Lorilleuxs had called two or
+three times a day, offering to sit up and watch, and even bringing an
+easy-chair for Gervaise. Then it was not long before there were
+disputes as to the proper way to nurse invalids. Madame Lorilleux said
+that she had saved enough people's lives to know how to go about it.
+She accused the young wife of pushing her aside, of driving her away
+from her own brother's bed. Certainly that Clump-clump ought to be
+concerned about Coupeau's getting well, for if she hadn't gone to Rue
+de la Nation to disturb him at his job, he would never had fallen.
+Only, the way she was taking care of him, she would certainly finish
+him.
+
+When Gervaise saw that Coupeau was out of danger, she ceased guarding
+his bedside with so much jealous fierceness. Now, they could no longer
+kill him, and she let people approach without mistrust. The family
+invaded the room. The convalescence would be a very long one; the
+doctor had talked of four months. Then, during the long hours the
+zinc-worker slept, the Lorilleux talked of Gervaise as of a fool. She
+hadn't done any good by having her husband at home. At the hospital
+they would have cured him twice as quickly. Lorilleux would have liked
+to have been ill, to have caught no matter what, just to show her that
+he did not hesitate for a moment to go to Lariboisiere. Madame
+Lorilleux knew a lady who had just come from there. Well! She had had
+chicken to eat morning and night.
+
+Again and again the two of them went over their estimate of how much
+four months of convalescence would cost; workdays lost, the doctor and
+the medicines, and afterward good wine and fresh meat. If the Coupeaus
+only used up their small savings, they would be very lucky indeed.
+They would probably have to do into debt. Well, that was to be
+expected and it was their business. They had no right to expect any
+help from the family, which couldn't afford the luxury of keeping an
+invalid at home. It was just Clump-clump's bad luck, wasn't it? Why
+couldn't she have done as others did and let her man be taken to
+hospital? This just showed how stuck up she was.
+
+One evening Madame Lorilleux had the spitefulness to ask Gervaise
+suddenly:
+
+"Well! And your shop, when are you going to take it?"
+
+"Yes," chuckled Lorilleux, "the landlord's still waiting for you."
+
+Gervaise was astonished. She had completely forgotten the shop; but
+she saw the wicked joy of those people, at the thought that she would
+no longer be able to take it, and she was bursting with anger. From
+that evening, in fact, they watched for every opportunity to twit her
+about her hopeless dream. When any one spoke of some impossible wish,
+they would say that it might be realized on the day that Gervaise
+started in business, in a beautiful shop opening onto the street. And
+behind her back they would laugh fit to split their sides. She did not
+like to think such an unkind thing, but, really, the Lorilleuxs now
+seemed to be very pleased at Coupeau's accident, as it prevented her
+setting up as a laundress in the Rue de la Goutte-d'Or.
+
+Then she also wished to laugh, and show them how willingly she parted
+with the money for the sake of curing her husband. Each time she took
+the savings-bank book from beneath the glass clock-tower in their
+presence, she would say gaily:
+
+"I'm going out; I'm going to rent my shop."
+
+She had not been willing to withdraw the money all at once. She took
+it out a hundred francs at a time, so as not to keep such a pile of
+gold and silver in her drawer; then, too, she vaguely hoped for some
+miracle, some sudden recovery, which would enable them not to part
+with the entire sum. At each journey to the savings-bank, on her
+return home, she added up on a piece of paper the money they had still
+left there. It was merely for the sake of order. Their bank account
+might be getting smaller all the time, yet she went on with her quiet
+smile and common-sense attitude, keeping the account straight. It was
+a consolation to be able to use this money for such a good purpose, to
+have had it when faced with their misfortune.
+
+While Coupeau was bed-ridden the Goujets were very kind to Gervaise.
+Madame Goujet was always ready to assist. She never went to shop
+without stopping to ask Gervaise if there was anything she needed,
+sugar or butter or salt. She always brought over hot bouillon on the
+evenings she cooked /pot au feu/. Sometimes, when Gervaise seemed to
+have too much to do, Madame Goujet helped her do the dishes, or
+cleaned the kitchen herself. Goujet took her water pails every morning
+and filled them at the tap on Rue des Poissonniers, saving her two
+sous a day. After dinner, if no family came to visit, the Goujets
+would come over to visit with the Coupeaus.
+
+Until ten o'clock, the blacksmith would smoke his pipe and watch
+Gervaise busy with her invalid. He would not speak ten words the
+entire evening. He was moved to pity by the sight of her pouring
+Coupeau's tea and medicine into a cup, or stirring the sugar in it
+very carefully so as to make no sound with the spoon. It stirred him
+deeply when she would lean over Coupeau and speak in her soft voice.
+Never before had he known such a fine woman. Her limp increased the
+credit due her for wearing herself out doing things for her husband
+all day long. She never sat down for ten minutes, not even to eat. She
+was always running to the chemist's. And then she would still keep the
+house clean, not even a speck of dust. She never complained, no matter
+how exhausted she became. Goujet developed a very deep affection for
+Gervaise in this atmosphere of unselfish devotion.
+
+One day he said to the invalid, "Well, old man, now you're patched up
+again! I wasn't worried about you. Your wife works miracles."
+
+Goujet was supposed to be getting married. His mother had found a
+suitable girl, a lace-mender like herself, whom she was urging him to
+marry. He had agreed so as not to hurt her feelings and the wedding
+had been set for early September. Money had long since been saved to
+set them up in housekeeping. However, when Gervaise referred to his
+coming marriage, he shook his head, saying, "Not every woman is like
+you, Madame Coupeau. If all women were like you, I'd marry ten of
+them."
+
+At the end of two months, Coupeau was able to get up. He did not go
+far, only from the bed to the window, and even then Gervaise had to
+support him. There he would sit down in the easy-chair the Lorilleuxs
+had brought, with his right leg stretched out on a stool. This joker,
+who used to laugh at the people who slipped down on frosty days, felt
+greatly put out by his accident. He had no philosophy. He had spent
+those two months in bed, in cursing, and in worrying the people about
+him. It was not an existence, really, to pass one's life on one's
+back, with a pin all tied up and as stiff as a sausage. Ah, he
+certainly knew the ceiling by heart; there was a crack, at the corner
+of the alcove, that he could have drawn with his eyes shut. Then, when
+he was made comfortable in the easy-chair, it was another grievance.
+Would he be fixed there for long, just like a mummy?
+
+Nobody ever passed along the street, so it was no fun to watch.
+Besides, it stank of bleach water all day. No, he was just growing
+old; he'd have given ten years of his life just to go see how the
+fortifications were getting along. He kept going on about his fate. It
+wasn't right, what had happened to him. A good worker like him, not a
+loafer or a drunkard, he could have understood in that case.
+
+"Papa Coupeau," said he, "broke his neck one day that he'd been
+boozing. I can't say that it was deserved, but anyhow it was
+explainable. I had had nothing since my lunch, was perfectly quiet,
+and without a drop of liquor in my body; and yet I came to grief just
+because I wanted to turn round to smile at Nana! Don't you think
+that's too much? If there is a providence, it certainly arranges
+things in a very peculiar manner. I, for one, shall never believe in
+it."
+
+And when at last he was able to use his legs, he retained a secret
+grudge against work. It was a handicraft full of misfortunes to pass
+one's days, like the cats, on the roofs of the houses. The employers
+were no fools! They sent you to your death--being far too cowardly to
+venture themselves on a ladder--and stopped at home in safety at their
+fire-sides without caring a hang for the poorer classes; and he got to
+the point of saying that everyone ought to fix the zinc himself on
+his own house. /Mon Dieu/! It was the only fair way to do it! If you
+don't want the rain to come in, do the work yourself. He regretted he
+hadn't learned another trade, something more pleasant, something less
+dangerous, maybe cabinetmaking. It was really his father's fault. Lots
+of fathers have the foolish habit of shoving their sons into their own
+line of work.
+
+For another two months Coupeau hobbled about on crutches. He had first
+of all managed to get as far as the street, and smoke his pipe in
+front of the door. Then he had managed to reach the exterior
+Boulevard, dragging himself along in the sunshine, and remaining for
+hours on one of the seats. Gaiety returned to him; his infernal tongue
+got sharper in these long hours of idleness. And with the pleasure of
+living, he gained there a delight in doing nothing, an indolent
+feeling took possession of his limbs, and his muscles gradually glided
+into a very sweet slumber. It was the slow victory of laziness, which
+took advantage of his convalescence to obtain possession of his body
+and unnerve him with its tickling. He regained his health, as thorough
+a banterer as before, thinking life beautiful, and not seeing why it
+should not last for ever.
+
+As soon as he could get about without the crutches, he made longer
+walks, often visiting construction jobs to see old comrades. He would
+stand with his arms folded, sneering and shaking his head, ridiculing
+the workers slaving at the job, stretching out his leg to show them
+what you got for wearing yourself out. Being able to stand about and
+mock others while they were working satisfied his spite against hard
+work. No doubt he'd have to go back to it, but he'd put it off as long
+as possible. He had a reason now to be lazy. Besides, it seemed good
+to him to loaf around like a bum!
+
+On the afternoons when Coupeau felt dull, he would call on the
+Lorilleuxs. The latter would pity him immensely, and attract him with
+all sorts of amiable attentions. During the first years following his
+marriage, he had avoided them, thanks to Gervaise's influence. Now
+they regained their sway over him by twitting him about being afraid
+of his wife. He was no man, that was evident! The Lorilleuxs, however,
+showed great discretion, and were loud in their praise of the
+laundress's good qualities. Coupeau, without as yet coming to
+wrangling, swore to the latter that his sister adored her, and
+requested that she would behave more amiably to her. The first quarrel
+which the couple had occurred one evening on account of Etienne. The
+zinc-worker had passed the afternoon with the Lorilleuxs. On arriving
+home, as the dinner was not quite ready, and the children were whining
+for their soup, he suddenly turned upon Etienne, and boxed his ears
+soundly. And during an hour he did not cease to grumble; the brat was
+not his; he did not know why he allowed him to be in the place; he
+would end by turning him out into the street. Up till then he had
+tolerated the youngster without all that fuss. On the morrow he talked
+of his dignity. Three days after, he kept kicking the little fellow,
+morning and evening, so much so that the child, whenever he heard him
+coming, bolted into the Goujets' where the old lace-mender kept a
+corner of the table clear for him to do his lessons.
+
+Gervaise had for some time past, returned to work. She no longer had
+the trouble of looking under the glass cover of the clock; all the
+savings were gone; and she had to work hard, work for four, for there
+were four to feed now. She alone maintained them. Whenever she heard
+people pitying her, she at once found excuses for Coupeau. Recollect!
+He had suffered so much; it was not surprising if his disposition had
+soured! But it would pass off when his health returned. And if any one
+hinted that Coupeau seemed all right again, that he could very well
+return to work, she protested: No, no; not yet! She did not want to
+see him take to his bed again. They would allow her to know best what
+the doctor said, perhaps! It was she who prevented him returning to
+work, telling him every morning to take his time and not to force
+himself. She even slipped twenty sou pieces into his waistcoat pocket.
+Coupeau accepted this as something perfectly natural. He was always
+complaining of aches and pains so that she would coddle him. At the
+end of six months he was still convalescing.
+
+Now, whenever he went to watch others working, he was always ready to
+join his comrades in downing a shot. It wasn't so bad, after all. They
+had their fun, and they never stayed more than five minutes. That
+couldn't hurt anybody. Only a hypocrite would say he went in because
+he wanted a drink. No wonder they had laughed at him in the past. A
+glass of wine never hurt anybody. He only drank wine though, never
+brandy. Wine never made you sick, didn't get you drunk, and helped you
+to live longer. Soon though, several times, after a day of idleness in
+going from one building job to another, he came home half drunk. On
+those occasions Gervaise pretended to have a terrible headache and
+kept their door closed so that the Goujets wouldn't hear Coupeau's
+drunken babblings.
+
+Little by little, the young woman lost her cheerfulness. Morning and
+evening she went to the Rue de la Goutte-d'Or to look at the shop,
+which was still to be let; and she would hide herself as though she
+were committing some childish prank unworthy of a grown-up person.
+This shop was beginning to turn her brain. At night-time, when the
+light was out she experienced the charm of some forbidden pleasure by
+thinking of it with her eyes open. She again made her calculations;
+two hundred and fifty francs for the rent, one hundred and fifty
+francs for utensils and moving, one hundred francs in hand to keep
+them going for a fortnight--in all five hundred francs at the very
+lowest figure. If she was not continually thinking of it aloud, it was
+for fear she should be suspected of regretting the savings swallowed
+up by Coupeau's illness. She often became quite pale, having almost
+allowed her desire to escape her and catching back her words, quite
+confused as though she had been thinking of something wicked. Now they
+would have to work for four or five years before they would succeed in
+saving such a sum. Her regret was at not being able to start in
+business at once; she would have earned all the home required, without
+counting on Coupeau, letting him take months to get into the way of
+work again; she would no longer have been uneasy, but certain of the
+future and free from the secret fears which sometimes seized her when
+he returned home very gay and singing, and relating some joke of that
+animal My-Boots, whom he had treated to a drink.
+
+One evening, Gervaise being at home alone, Goujet entered, and did not
+hurry off again, according to his habit. He seated himself, and smoked
+as he watched her. He probably had something very serious to say; he
+thought it over, let it ripen without being able to put it into
+suitable words. At length, after a long silence, he appeared to make
+up his mind, and took his pipe out of his mouth to say all in a
+breath:
+
+"Madame Gervaise, will you allow me to lend you some money?"
+
+She was leaning over an open drawer, looking for some dish-cloths. She
+got up, her face very red. He must have seen her then, in the morning,
+standing in ecstacy before the shop for close upon ten minutes. He was
+smiling in an embarrassed way, as though he had made some insulting
+proposal. But she hastily refused. Never would she accept money from
+any one without knowing when she would be able to return it. Then also
+it was a question of too large an amount. And as he insisted, in a
+frightened manner, she ended by exclaiming:
+
+"But your marriage? I certainly can't take the money you've been
+saving for your marriage!"
+
+"Oh, don't let that bother you," he replied, turning red in his turn.
+"I'm not going to be married now. That was just an idea, you know.
+Really, I would much sooner lend you the money."
+
+Then they both held down their heads. There was something very
+pleasant between them to which they did not give expression. And
+Gervaise accepted. Goujet had told his mother. They crossed the
+landing, and went to see her at once. The lace-mender was very grave,
+and looked rather sad as she bent her face over her tambour-frame. She
+would not thwart her son, but she no longer approved Gervaise's
+project; and she plainly told her why. Coupeau was going to the bad;
+Coupeau would swallow up her shop. She especially could not forgive
+the zinc-worker for having refused to learn to read during his
+convalescence. The blacksmith had offered to teach him, but the other
+had sent him to the right about, saying that learning made people get
+thin. This had almost caused a quarrel between the two workmen; each
+went his own way. Madame Goujet, however, seeing her big boy's
+beseeching glances, behaved very kindly to Gervaise. It was settled
+that they would lend their neighbors five hundred francs; the latter
+were to repay the amount by installments of twenty francs a month; it
+would last as long as it lasted.
+
+"I say, the blacksmith's sweet on you," exclaimed Coupeau, laughing,
+when he heard what had taken place. "Oh, I'm quite easy; he's too big
+a muff. We'll pay him back his money. But, really, if he had to deal
+with some people, he'd find himself pretty well duped."
+
+On the morrow the Coupeaus took the shop. All day long, Gervaise was
+running from Rue Neuve de la Goutte-d'Or. When the neighbors beheld
+her pass thus, nimble and delighted to the extent that she no longer
+limped, they said she must have undergone some operation.
+
+
+
+                              CHAPTER V.
+
+It so happened that the Boches had left the Rue des Poissonniers at
+the April quarter, and were now taking charge of the great house in
+the Rue de la Goutte-d'Or. It was a curious coincidence, all the same!
+One thing that worried Gervaise who had lived so quietly in her
+lodgings in the Rue Neuve, was the thought of again being under the
+subjection of some unpleasant person, with whom she would be
+continually quarrelling, either on account of water spilt in the
+passage or of a door shut too noisily at night-time. Concierges are
+such a disagreeable class! But it would be a pleasure to be with the
+Boches. They knew one another--they would always get on well together.
+It would be just like members of the same family.
+
+On the day the Coupeaus went to sign their lease, Gervaise felt her
+heart swollen with pride as she passed through the high doorway. She
+was then at length going to live in that house as vast as a little
+town, with its interminable staircases, and passages as long and
+winding as streets. She was excited by everything: the gray walls with
+varicolored rugs hanging from windows to dry in the sun, the dingy
+courtyard with as many holes in its pavement as a public square, the
+hum of activity coming through the walls. She felt joy that she was at
+last about to realize her ambition. She also felt fear that she would
+fail and be crushed in the endless struggle against the poverty and
+starvation she could feel breathing down her neck. It seemed to her
+that she was doing something very bold, throwing herself into the
+midst of some machinery in motion, as she listened to the blacksmith's
+hammers and the cabinetmakers' planes, hammering and hissing in the
+depths of the work-shops on the ground floor. On that day the water
+flowing from the dyer's under the entrance porch was a very pale apple
+green. She smilingly stepped over it; to her the color was a pleasant
+omen.
+
+The meeting with the landlord was to take place in the Boches' room.
+Monsieur Marescot, a wealthy cutler of the Rue de la Paix, had at one
+time turned a grindstone through the streets. He was now stated to be
+worth several millions. He was a man of fifty-five, large and big-
+boned. Even though he now wore a decoration in his button-hole, his
+huge hands were still those of a former workingman. It was his joy to
+carry off the scissors and knives of his tenants, to sharpen them
+himself, for the fun of it. He often stayed for hours with his
+concierges, closed up in the darkness of their lodges, going over the
+accounts. That's where he did all his business. He was now seated by
+Madame Boche's kitchen table, listening to her story of how the
+dressmaker on the third floor, staircase A, had used a filthy word in
+refusing to pay her rent. He had had to work precious hard once upon a
+time. But work was the high road to everything. And, after counting
+the two hundred and fifty francs for the first two quarters in
+advance, and dropping them into his capacious pocket, he related the
+story of his life, and showed his decoration.
+
+Gervaise, however, felt rather ill at ease on account of the Boches'
+behavior. They pretended not to know her. They were most assiduous in
+their attentions to the landlord, bowing down before him, watching for
+his least words, and nodding their approval of them. Madame Boche
+suddenly ran out and dispersed a group of children who were paddling
+about in front of the cistern, the tap of which they had turned full
+on, causing the water to flow over the pavement; and when she
+returned, upright and severe in her skirts, crossing the courtyard and
+glancing slowly up at all the windows, as though to assure herself of
+the good behavior of the household, she pursed her lips in a way to
+show with what authority she was invested, now that she reigned over
+three hundred tenants. Boche again spoke of the dressmaker on the
+second floor; he advised that she should be turned out; he reckoned up
+the number of quarters she owed with the importance of a steward whose
+management might be compromised. Monsieur Marescot approved the
+suggestion of turning her out, but he wished to wait till the half
+quarter. It was hard to turn people out into the street, more
+especially as it did not put a sou into the landlord's pocket. And
+Gervaise asked herself with a shudder if she too would be turned out
+into the street the day that some misfortune rendered her unable to
+pay.
+
+The concierge's lodge was as dismal as a cellar, black from smoke and
+crowded with dark furniture. All the sunlight fell upon the tailor's
+workbench by the window. An old frock coat that was being reworked lay
+on it. The Boches' only child, a four-year-old redhead named Pauline,
+was sitting on the floor, staring quietly at the veal simmering on the
+stove, delighted with the sharp odor of cooking that came from the
+frying pan.
+
+Monsieur Marescot again held out his hand to the zinc-worker, when the
+latter spoke of the repairs, recalling to his mind a promise he had
+made to talk the matter over later on. But the landlord grew angry, he
+had never promised anything; besides, it was not usual to do any
+repairs to a shop. However, he consented to go over the place,
+followed by the Coupeaus and Boche. The little linen-draper had
+carried off all his shelves and counters; the empty shop displayed its
+blackened ceiling and its cracked wall, on which hung strips of an old
+yellow paper. In the sonorous emptiness of the place, there ensued a
+heated discussion. Monsieur Marescot exclaimed that it was the
+business of shopkeepers to embellish their shops, for a shopkeeper
+might wish to have gold put about everywhere, and he, the landlord,
+could not put out gold. Then he related that he had spent more than
+twenty thousand francs in fitting up his premises in the Rue de la
+Paix. Gervaise, with her woman's obstinacy, kept repeating an argument
+which she considered unanswerable. He would repaper a lodging, would
+he not? Then, why did he not treat the shop the same as a lodging? She
+did not ask him for anything else--only to whitewash the ceiling, and
+put some fresh paper on the walls.
+
+Boche, all this while, remained dignified and impenetrable; he turned
+about and looked up in the air, without expressing an opinion. Coupeau
+winked at him in vain; he affected not to wish to take advantage of
+his great influence over the landlord. He ended, however, by making a
+slight grimace--a little smile accompanied by a nod of the head. Just
+then Monsieur Marescot, exasperated, and seemingly very unhappy, and
+clutching his fingers like a miser being despoiled of his gold, was
+giving way to Gervaise, promising to do the ceiling and repaper the
+shop on condition that she paid for half of the paper. And he hurried
+away declining to discuss anything further.
+
+Now that Boche was alone with the Coupeaus, the concierge became quite
+talkative and slapped them on the shoulders. Well, well, see what they
+had gotten. Without his help, they would never have gotten the
+concessions. Didn't they notice how the landlord had looked to him out
+of the corner of his eye for advice and how he'd made up his mind
+suddenly when he saw Boche smile? He confessed to them confidentially
+that he was the real boss of the building. It was he who decided who
+got eviction notices and who could become tenants. He collected all
+the rents and kept them for a couple of weeks in his bureau drawer.
+
+That evening the Coupeaus, to express their gratitude to the Boches,
+sent them two bottles of wine as a present.
+
+The following Monday the workmen started doing up the shop. The
+purchasing of the paper turned out especially to be a very big affair.
+Gervaise wanted a grey paper with blue flowers, so as to enliven and
+brighten the walls. Boche offered to take her to the dealers, so that
+she might make her own selection. But the landlord had given him
+formal instructions not to go beyond the price of fifteen sous the
+piece. They were there an hour. The laundress kept looking in despair
+at a very pretty chintz pattern costing eighteen sous the piece, and
+thought all the other papers hideous. At length the concierge gave in;
+he would arrange the matter, and, if necessary, would make out there
+was a piece more used than was really the case. So, on her way home,
+Gervaise purchased some tarts for Pauline. She did not like being
+behindhand--one always gained by behaving nicely to her.
+
+The shop was to be ready in four days. The workmen were there three
+weeks. At first it was arranged that they should merely wash the
+paint. But this paint, originally maroon, was so dirty and so sad-
+looking, that Gervaise allowed herself to be tempted to have the whole
+of the frontage painted a light blue with yellow moldings. Then the
+repairs seemed as though they would last for ever. Coupeau, as he was
+still not working, arrived early each morning to see how things were
+going. Boche left the overcoat or trousers on which he was working to
+come and supervise. Both of them would stand and watch with their
+hands behind their backs, puffing on their pipes.
+
+The painters were very merry fellows who would often desert their work
+to stand in the middle of the shop and join the discussion, shaking
+their heads for hours, admiring the work already done. The ceiling had
+been whitewashed quickly, but the paint on the walls never seemed to
+dry in a hurry.
+
+Around nine o'clock the painters would arrive with their paint pots
+which they stuck in a corner. They would look around and then
+disappear. Perhaps they went to eat breakfast. Sometimes Coupeau would
+take everyone for a drink--Boche, the two painters and any of
+Coupeau's friends who were nearby. This meant another afternoon
+wasted.
+
+Gervaise's patience was thoroughly exhausted, when, suddenly,
+everything was finished in two days, the paint varnished, the paper
+hung, and the dirt all cleared away. The workmen had finished it off
+as though they were playing, whistling away on their ladders, and
+singing loud enough to deafen the whole neighborhood.
+
+The moving in took place at once. During the first few days Gervaise
+felt as delighted as a child. Whenever she crossed the road on
+returning from some errand, she lingered to smile at her home. From a
+distance her shop appeared light and gay with its pale blue signboard,
+on which the word "Laundress" was painted in big yellow letters,
+amidst the dark row of the other frontages. In the window, closed in
+behind by little muslin curtains, and hung on either side with blue
+paper to show off the whiteness of the linen, some shirts were
+displayed, with some women's caps hanging above them on wires. She
+thought her shop looked pretty, being the same color as the heavens.
+
+Inside there was more blue; the paper, in imitation of a Pompadour
+chintz, represented a trellis overgrown with morning-glories. A huge
+table, taking up two-thirds of the room, was her ironing-table. It was
+covered with thick blanketing and draped with a strip of cretonne
+patterned with blue flower sprays that hid the trestles beneath.
+
+Gervaise was enchanted with her pretty establishment and would often
+seat herself on a stool and sigh with contentment, delighted with all
+the new equipment. Her first glance always went to the cast-iron stove
+where the irons were heated ten at a time, arranged over the heat on
+slanting rests. She would kneel down to look into the stove to make
+sure the apprentice had not put in too much coke.
+
+The lodging at the back of the shop was quite decent. The Coupeaus
+slept in the first room, where they also did the cooking and took
+their meals; a door at the back opened on to the courtyard of the
+house. Nana's bed was in the right hand room, which was lighted by a
+little round window close to the ceiling. As for Etienne, he shared
+the left hand room with the dirty clothes, enormous bundles of which
+lay about on the floor. However, there was one disadvantage--the
+Coupeaus would not admit it at first--but the damp ran down the walls,
+and it was impossible to see clearly in the place after three o'clock
+in the afternoon.
+
+In the neighborhood the new shop produced a great sensation. The
+Coupeaus were accused of going too fast, and making too much fuss.
+They had, in fact, spent the five hundred francs lent by the Goujets
+in fitting up the shop and in moving, without keeping sufficient to
+live upon for a fortnight, as they had intended doing. The morning
+that Gervaise took down her shutters for the first time, she had just
+six francs in her purse. But that did not worry her, customers began
+to arrive, and things seemed promising. A week later on the Saturday,
+before going to bed, she remained two hours making calculations on a
+piece of paper, and she awoke Coupeau to tell him, with a bright look
+on her face, that there were hundreds and thousands of francs to be
+made, if they were only careful.
+
+"Ah, well!" said Madame Lorilleux all over the Rue de la Goutte-d'Or,
+"my fool of a brother is seeing some funny things! All that was
+wanting was that Clump-clump should go about so haughty. It becomes
+her well, doesn't it?"
+
+The Lorilleuxs had declared a feud to the death against Gervaise. To
+begin with, they had almost died of rage during the time while the
+repairs were being done to the shop. If they caught sight of the
+painters from a distance, they would walk on the other side of the
+way, and go up to their rooms with their teeth set. A blue shop for
+that "nobody," it was enough to discourage all honest, hard-working
+people! Besides, the second day after the shop opened the apprentice
+happened to throw out a bowl of starch just at the moment when Madame
+Lorilleux was passing. The zinc-worker's sister caused a great
+commotion in the street, accusing her sister-in-law of insulting her
+through her employees. This broke off all relations. Now they only
+exchanged terrible glares when they encountered each other.
+
+"Yes, she leads a pretty life!" Madame Lorilleux kept saying. "We all
+know where the money came from that she paid for her wretched shop!
+She borrowed it from the blacksmith; and he springs from a nice family
+too! Didn't the father cut his own throat to save the guillotine the
+trouble of doing so? Anyhow, there was something disreputable of that
+sort!"
+
+She bluntly accused Gervaise of flirting with Goujet. She lied--she
+pretended she had surprised them together one night on a seat on the
+exterior Boulevards. The thought of this liaison, of pleasures that
+her sister-in-law was no doubt enjoying, exasperated her still more,
+because of her own ugly woman's strict sense of propriety. Every day
+the same cry came from her heart to her lips.
+
+"What does she have, that wretched cripple, for people to fall in love
+with her? Why doesn't any one want me?"
+
+She busied herself in endless gossiping among the neighbors. She told
+them the whole story. The day the Coupeaus got married she turned up
+her nose at her. Oh, she had a keen nose, she could smell in advance
+how it would turn out. Then, Clump-clump pretended to be so sweet,
+what a hypocrite! She and her husband had only agreed to be Nana's
+godparents for the sake of her brother. What a bundle it had cost,
+that fancy christening. If Clump-clump were on her deathbed she
+wouldn't give her a glass of water, no matter how much she begged.
+
+She didn't want anything to do with such a shameless baggage. Little
+Nana would always be welcome when she came up to see her godparents.
+The child couldn't be blamed for her mother's sins. But there was no
+use trying to tell Coupeau anything. Any real man in his situation
+would have beaten his wife and put a stop to it all. All they wanted
+was for him to insist on respect for his family. /Mon Dieu/! If she,
+Madame Lorilleux, had acted like that, Coupeau wouldn't be so
+complacent. He would have stabbed her for sure with his shears.
+
+The Boches, however, who sternly disapproved of quarrels in their
+building, said that the Lorilleuxs were in the wrong. The Lorilleuxs
+were no doubt respectable persons, quiet, working the whole day long,
+and paying their rent regularly. But, really, jealousy had driven them
+mad. And they were mean enough to skin an egg, real misers. They were
+so stingy that they'd hide their bottle when any one came in, so as
+not to have to offer a glass of wine--not regular people at all.
+
+Gervaise had brought over cassis and soda water one day to drink with
+the Boches. When Madame Lorilleux went by, she acted out spitting
+before the concierge's door. Well, after that when Madame Boches swept
+the corridors on Saturdays, she always left a pile of trash before the
+Lorilleuxs' door.
+
+"It isn't to be wondered at!" Madame Lorilleux would exclaim, "Clump-
+clump's always stuffing them, the gluttons! Ah! they're all alike; but
+they had better not annoy me! I'll complain to the landlord. Only
+yesterday I saw that sly old Boche chasing after Madame Gaudron's
+skirts. Just fancy! A woman of that age, and who has half a dozen
+children, too; it's positively disgusting! If I catch them at anything
+of the sort again, I'll tell Madame Boche, and she'll give them both a
+hiding. It'll be something to laugh at."
+
+Mother Coupeau continued to visit the two houses, agreeing with
+everybody and even managing to get asked oftener to dinner, by
+complaisantly listening one night to her daughter and the next night
+to her daughter-in-law.
+
+However, Madame Lerat did not go to visit the Coupeaus because she had
+argued with Gervaise about a Zouave who had cut the nose of his
+mistress with a razor. She was on the side of the Zouave, saying it
+was evidence of a great passion, but without explaining further her
+thought. Then, she had made Madame Lorilleux even more angry by
+telling her that Clump-clump had called her "Cow Tail" in front of
+fifteen or twenty people. Yes, that's what the Boches and all the
+neighbors called her now, "Cow Tail."
+
+Gervaise remained calm and cheerful among all these goings-on. She
+often stood by the door of her shop greeting friends who passed by
+with a nod and a smile. It was her pleasure to take a moment between
+batches of ironing to enjoy the street and take pride in her own
+stretch of sidewalk.
+
+She felt that the Rue de la Goutte d'Or was hers, and the neighboring
+streets, and the whole neighborhood. As she stood there, with her
+blonde hair slightly damp from the heat of the shop, she would look
+left and right, taking in the people, the buildings, and the sky. To
+the left Rue de la Goutte d'Or was peaceful and almost empty, like a
+country town with women idling in their doorways. While, to the right,
+only a short distance away, Rue des Poissonniers had a noisy throng of
+people and vehicles.
+
+The stretch of gutter before her own shop became very important in her
+mind. It was like a wide river which she longed to see neat and clean.
+It was a lively river, colored by the dye shop with the most fanciful
+of hues which contrasted with the black mud beside it.
+
+Then there were the shops: a large grocery with a display of dried
+fruits protected by mesh nets; a shop selling work clothes which had
+white tunics and blue smocks hanging before it with arms that waved at
+the slightest breeze. Cats were purring on the counters of the fruit
+store and the tripe shop. Madame Vigouroux, the coal dealer next door,
+returned her greetings. She was a plump, short woman with bright eyes
+in a dark face who was always joking with the men while standing at
+her doorway. Her shop was decorated in imitation of a rustic chalet.
+The neighbors on the other side were a mother and daughter, the
+Cudorges. The umbrella sellers kept their door closed and never came
+out to visit.
+
+Gervaise always looked across the road, too, through the wide carriage
+entrance of the windowless wall opposite her, at the blacksmith's
+forge. The courtyard was cluttered with vans and carts. Inscribed on
+the wall was the word "Blacksmith."
+
+At the lower end of the wall between the small shops selling scrap
+iron and fried potatoes was a watchmaker. He wore a frock coat and was
+always very neat. His cuckoo clocks could be heard in chorus against
+the background noise of the street and the blacksmith's rhythmic
+clanging.
+
+The neighborhood in general thought Gervaise very nice. There was, it
+is true, a good deal of scandal related regarding her; but everyone
+admired her large eyes, small mouth and beautiful white teeth. In
+short she was a pretty blonde, and had it not been for her crippled
+leg she might have ranked amongst the comeliest. She was now in her
+twenty-eighth year, and had grown considerably plumper. Her fine
+features were becoming puffy, and her gestures were assuming a
+pleasant indolence.
+
+At times she occasionally seemed to forget herself on the edge of a
+chair, whilst she waited for her iron to heat, smiling vaguely and
+with an expression of greedy joy upon her face. She was becoming fond
+of good living, everybody said so; but that was not a very grave
+fault, but rather the contrary. When one earns sufficient to be able
+to buy good food, one would be foolish to eat potato parings. All the
+more so as she continued to work very hard, slaving to please her
+customers, sitting up late at night after the place was closed,
+whenever there was anything urgent.
+
+She was lucky as all her neighbors said; everything prospered with
+her. She did the washing for all the house--M. Madinier, Mademoiselle
+Remanjou, the Boches. She even secured some of the customers of her
+old employer, Madame Fauconnier, Parisian ladies living in the Rue du
+Faubourg-Poissonniere. As early as the third week she was obliged to
+engage two workwomen, Madame Putois and tall Clemence, the girl who
+used to live on the sixth floor; counting her apprentice, that little
+squint-eyed Augustine, who was as ugly as a beggar's behind, that made
+three persons in her employ. Others would certainly have lost their
+heads at such a piece of good fortune. It was excusable for her to
+slack a little on Monday after drudging all through the week. Besides,
+it was necessary to her. She would have had no courage left, and would
+have expected to see the shirts iron themselves, if she had not been
+able to dress up in some pretty thing.
+
+Gervaise was always so amiable, meek as a lamb, sweet as sugar. There
+wasn't any one she disliked except Madame Lorilleux. While she was
+enjoying a good meal and coffee, she could be indulgent and forgive
+everybody saying: "We have to forgive each other--don't we?--unless we
+want to live like savages." Hadn't all her dreams come true? She
+remembered her old dream: to have a job, enough bread to eat and a
+corner in which to sleep, to bring up her children, not to be beaten,
+and to die in her own bed. She had everything she wanted now and more
+than she had ever expected. She laughed, thinking of delaying dying in
+her own bed as long as possible.
+
+It was to Coupeau especially that Gervaise behaved nicely. Never an
+angry word, never a complaint behind her husband's back. The zinc-
+worker had at length resumed work; and as the job he was engaged on
+was at the other side of Paris, she gave him every morning forty sous
+for his luncheon, his glass of wine and his tobacco. Only, two days
+out of every six, Coupeau would stop on the way, spend the forty sous
+in drink with a friend, and return home to lunch, with some cock-and-
+bull story. Once even he did not take the trouble to go far; he
+treated himself, My-Boots and three others to a regular feast--snails,
+roast meat, and some sealed bottles of wine--at the "Capuchin," on the
+Barriere de la Chapelle. Then, as his forty sous were not sufficient,
+he had sent the waiter to his wife with the bill and the information
+that he was in pawn. She laughed and shrugged her shoulders. Where was
+the harm if her old man amused himself a bit? You must give men a long
+rein if you want to live peaceably at home. From one word to another,
+one soon arrived at blows. /Mon Dieu/! It was easy to understand.
+Coupeau still suffered from his leg; besides, he was led astray. He
+was obliged to do as the others did, or else he would be thought a
+cheap skate. And it was really a matter of no consequence. If he came
+home a bit elevated, he went to bed, and two hours afterwards he was
+all right again.
+
+It was now the warm time of the year. One June afternoon, a Saturday
+when there was a lot of work to get through, Gervaise herself had
+piled the coke into the stove, around which ten irons were heating,
+whilst a rumbling sound issued from the chimney. At that hour the sun
+was shining full on the shop front, and the pavement reflected the
+heat waves, causing all sorts of quaint shadows to dance over the
+ceiling, and that blaze of light which assumed a bluish tinge from the
+color of the paper on the shelves and against the window, was almost
+blinding in the intensity with which it shone over the ironing-table,
+like a golden dust shaken among the fine linen. The atmosphere was
+stifling. The shop door was thrown wide open, but not a breath of air
+entered; the clothes which were hung up on brass wires to dry, steamed
+and became as stiff as shavings in less than three quarters of an
+hour. For some little while past an oppressive silence had reigned in
+that furnace-like heat, interrupted only by the smothered sound of the
+banging down of the irons on the thick blanket covered with calico.
+
+"Ah, well!" said Gervaise, "it's enough to melt one! We might have to
+take off our chemises."
+
+She was sitting on the floor, in front of a basin, starching some
+things. Her sleeves were rolled up and her camisole was slipping down
+her shoulders. Little curls of golden hair stuck were stuck to her
+skin by perspiration. She carefully dipped caps, shirt-fronts, entire
+petticoats, and the trimmings of women's drawers into the milky water.
+Then she rolled the things up and placed them at the bottom of a
+square basket, after dipping her hand in a pail and shaking it over
+the portions of the shirts and drawers which she had not starched.
+
+"This basketful's for you, Madame Putois," she said. "Look sharp, now!
+It dries at once, and will want doing all over again in an hour."
+
+Madame Putois, a thin little woman of forty-five, was ironing. Though
+she was buttoned up in an old chestnut-colored dress, there was not a
+drop of perspiration to be seen. She had not even taken her cap off, a
+black cap trimmed with green ribbons turned partly yellow. And she
+stood perfectly upright in front of the ironing-table, which was too
+high for her, sticking out her elbows, and moving her iron with the
+jerky evolutions of a puppet. On a sudden she exclaimed:
+
+"Ah, no! Mademoiselle Clemence, you mustn't take your camisole off.
+You know I don't like such indecencies. Whilst you're about it, you'd
+better show everything. There's already three men over the way
+stopping to look."
+
+Tall Clemence called her an old beast between her teeth. She was
+suffocating; she might certainly make herself comfortable; everyone
+was not gifted with a skin as dry as touchwood. Besides no one could
+see anything; and she held up her arms, whilst her opulent bosom
+almost ripped her chemise, and her shoulders were bursting through the
+straps. At the rate she was going, Clemence was not likely to have any
+marrow left in her bones long before she was thirty years old.
+Mornings after big parties she was unable to feel the ground she trod
+upon, and fell asleep over her work, whilst her head and her stomach
+seemed as though stuffed full of rags. But she was kept on all the
+same, for no other workwoman could iron a shirt with her style. Shirts
+were her specialty.
+
+"This is mine, isn't it?" she declared, tapping her bosom. "And it
+doesn't bite; it hurts nobody!"
+
+"Clemence, put your wrapper on again," said Gervaise. "Madame Putois
+is right, it isn't decent. People will begin to take my house for what
+it isn't."
+
+So tall Clemence dressed herself again, grumbling the while. "/Mon
+Dieu!/ There's prudery for you."
+
+And she vented her rage on the apprentice, that squint-eyed Augustine
+who was ironing some stockings and handkerchiefs beside her. She
+jostled her and pushed her with her elbow; but Augustine who was of a
+surly disposition, and slyly spiteful in the way of an animal and a
+drudge, spat on the back of the other's dress just out of revenge,
+without being seen. Gervaise, during this incident, had commenced a
+cap belonging to Madame Boche, which she intended to take great pains
+with. She had prepared some boiled starch to make it look new again.
+She was gently passing a little iron rounded at both ends over the
+inside of the crown of the cap, when a bony-looking woman entered the
+shop, her face covered with red blotches and her skirts sopping wet.
+It was a washerwoman who employed three assistants at the wash-house
+in the Rue de la Goutte-d'Or.
+
+"You've come too soon, Madame Bijard!" cried Gervaise. "I told you to
+call this evening. I'm too busy to attend to you now!"
+
+But as the washerwoman began lamenting and fearing that she would not
+be able to put all the things to soak that day, she consented to give
+her the dirty clothes at once. They went to fetch the bundles in the
+left hand room where Etienne slept, and returned with enormous armfuls
+which they piled up on the floor at the back of the shop. The sorting
+lasted a good half hour. Gervaise made heaps all round her, throwing
+the shirts in one, the chemises in another, the handkerchiefs, the
+socks, the dish-cloths in others. Whenever she came across anything
+belonging to a new customer, she marked it with a cross in red cotton
+thread so as to know it again. And from all this dirty linen which
+they were throwing about there issued an offensive odor in the warm
+atmosphere.
+
+"Oh! La, la. What a stench!" said Clemence, holding her nose.
+
+"Of course there is! If it were clean they wouldn't send it to us,"
+quietly explained Gervaise. "It smells as one would expect it to,
+that's all! We said fourteen chemises, didn't we, Madame Bijard?
+Fifteen, sixteen, seventeen--"
+
+And she continued counting aloud. Used to this kind of thing she
+evinced no disgust. She thrust her bare pink arms deep into the piles
+of laundry: shirts yellow with grime, towels stiff from dirty dish
+water, socks threadbare and eaten away by sweat. The strong odor which
+slapped her in the face as she sorted the piles of clothes made her
+feel drowsy. She seemed to be intoxicating herself with this stench of
+humanity as she sat on the edge of a stool, bending far over, smiling
+vaguely, her eyes slightly misty. It was as if her laziness was
+started by a kind of smothering caused by the dirty clothes which
+poisoned the air in the shop. Just as she was shaking out a child's
+dirty diaper, Coupeau came in.
+
+"By Jove!" he stuttered, "what a sun! It shines full on your head!"
+
+The zinc-worker caught hold of the ironing-table to save himself from
+falling. It was the first time he had been so drunk. Until then he had
+sometimes come home slightly tipsy, but nothing more. This time,
+however, he had a black eye, just a friendly slap he had run up
+against in a playful moment. His curly hair, already streaked with
+grey, must have dusted a corner in some low wineshop, for a cobweb
+was hanging to one of his locks over the back of his neck. He was
+still as attractive as ever, though his features were rather drawn and
+aged, and his under jaw projected more; but he was always lively, as
+he would sometimes say, with a complexion to be envied by a duchess.
+
+"I'll just explain it to you," he resumed, addressing Gervaise.
+
+"It was Celery-Root, you know him, the bloke with a wooden leg. Well,
+as he was going back to his native place, he wanted to treat us. Oh!
+We were all right, if it hadn't been for that devil of a sun. In the
+street everybody looks shaky. Really, all the world's drunk!"
+
+And as tall Clemence laughed at his thinking that the people in the
+street were drunk, he was himself seized with an intense fit of gaiety
+which almost strangled him.
+
+"Look at them! The blessed tipplers! Aren't they funny?" he cried.
+"But it's not their fault. It's the sun that's causing it."
+
+All the shop laughed, even Madame Putois, who did not like drunkards.
+That squint-eyed Augustine was cackling like a hen, suffocating with
+her mouth wide open. Gervaise, however, suspected Coupeau of not
+having come straight home, but of having passed an hour with the
+Lorilleuxs who were always filling his head with unpleasant ideas.
+When he swore he had not been near them she laughed also, full of
+indulgence and not even reproaching him with having wasted another
+day.
+
+"/Mon Dieu!/ What nonsense he does talk," she murmured. "How does he
+manage to say such stupid things?" Then in a maternal tone of voice
+she added, "Now go to bed, won't you? You see we're busy; you're in
+our way. That makes thirty-two handkerchiefs, Madame Bijard; and two
+more, thirty-four."
+
+But Coupeau was not sleepy. He stood there wagging his body from side
+to side like the pendulum of a clock and chuckling in an obstinate and
+teasing manner. Gervaise, wanting to finish with Madame Bijard, called
+to Clemence to count the laundry while she made the list. Tall
+Clemence made a dirty remark about every item that she touched. She
+commented on the customers' misfortunes and their bedroom adventures.
+She had a wash-house joke for every rip or stain that passed through
+her hands. Augustine pretended that she didn't understand, but her
+ears were wide open. Madame Putois compressed her lips, thinking it a
+disgrace to say such things in front of Coupeau. It's not a man's
+business to have anything to do with dirty linen. It's just not done
+among decent people.
+
+Gervaise, serious and her mind fully occupied with what she was about,
+did not seem to notice. As she wrote she gave a glance to each article
+as it passed before her, so as to recognize it; and she never made a
+mistake; she guessed the owner's name just by the look or the color.
+Those napkins belonged to the Goujets, that was evident; they had not
+been used to wipe out frying-pans. That pillow-case certainly came
+from the Boches on account of the pomatum with which Madame Boche
+always smeared her things. There was no need to put your nose close to
+the flannel vests of Monsieur Madinier; his skin was so oily that it
+clogged up his woolens.
+
+She knew many peculiarities, the cleanliness of some, the ragged
+underclothes of neighborhood ladies who appeared on the streets in
+silk dresses; how many items each family soiled weekly; the way some
+people's garments were always torn at the same spot. Oh, she had many
+tales to tell. For instance, the chemises of Mademoiselle Remanjou
+provided material for endless comments: they wore out at the top first
+because the old maid had bony, sharp shoulders; and they were never
+really dirty, proving that you dry up by her age, like a stick of wood
+out of which it's hard to squeeze a drop of anything. It was thus that
+at every sorting of the dirty linen in the shop they undressed the
+whole neighborhood of the Goutte-d'Or.
+
+"Oh, here's something luscious!" cried Clemence, opening another
+bundle.
+
+Gervaise, suddenly seized with a great repugnance, drew back.
+
+"Madame Gaudron's bundle?" said she. "I'll no longer wash for her,
+I'll find some excuse. No, I'm not more particular than another. I've
+handled some most disgusting linen in my time; but really, that lot I
+can't stomach. What can the woman do to get her things into such a
+state?"
+
+And she requested Clemence to look sharp. But the girl continued her
+remarks, thrusting the clothes sullenly about her, with complaints on
+the soiled caps she waved like triumphal banners of filth. Meanwhile
+the heaps around Gervaise had grown higher. Still seated on the edge
+of the stool, she was now disappearing between the petticoats and
+chemises. In front of her were the sheets, the table cloths, a
+veritable mass of dirtiness.
+
+She seemed even rosier and more languid than usual within this
+spreading sea of soiled laundry. She had regained her composure,
+forgetting Madame Gaudron's laundry, stirring the various piles of
+clothing to make sure there had been no mistake in sorting. Squint-
+eyed Augustine had just stuffed the stove so full of coke that its
+cast-iron sides were bright red. The sun was shining obliquely on the
+window; the shop was in a blaze. Then, Coupeau, whom the great heat
+intoxicated all the more, was seized with a sudden fit of tenderness.
+He advanced towards Gervaise with open arms and deeply moved.
+
+"You're a good wife," he stammered. "I must kiss you."
+
+But he caught his foot in the garments which barred the way and nearly
+fell.
+
+"What a nuisance you are!" said Gervaise without getting angry. "Keep
+still, we're nearly done now."
+
+No, he wanted to kiss her. He must do so because he loved her so much.
+Whilst he stuttered he tried to get round the heap of petticoats and
+stumbled against the pile of chemises; then as he obstinately
+persisted his feet caught together and he fell flat, his nose in the
+midst of the dish-cloths. Gervaise, beginning to lose her temper
+pushed him, saying that he was mixing all the things up. But Clemence
+and even Madame Putois maintained that she was wrong. It was very nice
+of him after all. He wanted to kiss her. She might very well let
+herself be kissed.
+
+"You're lucky, you are, Madame Coupeau," said Madame Bijard, whose
+drunkard of a husband, a locksmith, was nearly beating her to death
+each evening when he came in. "If my old man was like that when he's
+had a drop, it would be a real pleasure!"
+
+Gervaise had calmed down and was already regretting her hastiness. She
+helped Coupeau up on his legs again. Then she offered her cheek with a
+smile. But the zinc-worker, without caring a button for the other
+people being present, seized her bosom.
+
+"It's not for the sake of saying so," he murmured; "but your dirty
+linen stinks tremendously! Still, I love you all the same, you know."
+
+"Leave off, you're tickling me," cried she, laughing the louder. "What
+a great silly you are! How can you be so absurd?"
+
+He had caught hold of her and would not let her go. She gradually
+abandoned herself to him, dizzy from the slight faintness caused by
+the heap of clothes and not minding Coupeau's foul-smelling breath.
+The long kiss they exchanged on each other's mouths in the midst of
+the filth of the laundress's trade was perhaps the first tumble in the
+slow downfall of their life together.
+
+Madame Bijard had meanwhile been tying the laundry up into bundles and
+talking about her daughter, Eulalie, who at two was as smart as a
+grown woman. She could be left by herself; she never cried or played
+with matches. Finally Madame Bijard took the laundry away a bundle at
+a time, her face splotched with purple and her tall form bent under
+the weight.
+
+"This heat is becoming unbearable, we're roasting," said Gervaise,
+wiping her face before returning to Madame Boche's cap.
+
+They talked of boxing Augustine's ears when they saw that the stove
+was red-hot. The irons, also, were getting in the same condition. She
+must have the very devil in her body! One could not turn one's back a
+moment without her being up to some of her tricks. Now they would have
+to wait a quarter of an hour before they would be able to use their
+irons. Gervaise covered the fire with two shovelfuls of cinders. Then
+she thought to hang some sheets on the brass wires near the ceiling to
+serve as curtains to keep out the sunlight.
+
+Things were now better in the shop. The temperature was still high,
+but you could imagine it was cooler. Footsteps could still be heard
+outside but you were free to make yourself comfortable. Clemence
+removed her camisole again. Coupeau still refused to go to bed, so
+they allowed him to stay, but he had to promise to be quiet in a
+corner, for they were very busy.
+
+"Whatever has that vermin done with my little iron?" murmured
+Gervaise, speaking of Augustine.
+
+They were for ever seeking the little iron, which they found in the
+most out-of-the-way places, where the apprentice, so they said, hid it
+out of spite. Gervaise could now finish Madame Boche's cap. First she
+roughly smoothed the lace, spreading it out with her hand, and then
+she straightened it up by light strokes of the iron. It had a very
+fancy border consisting of narrow puffs alternating with insertions of
+embroidery. She was working on it silently and conscientiously,
+ironing the puffs and insertions.
+
+Silence prevailed for a time. Nothing was to be heard except the soft
+thud of irons on the ironing pad. On both sides of the huge
+rectangular table Gervaise, her two employees, and the apprentice were
+bending over, slaving at their tasks with rounded shoulders, their
+arms moving incessantly. Each had a flat brick blackened by hot irons
+near her. A soup plate filled with clean water was on the middle of
+the table with a moistening rag and a small brush soaking in it.
+
+A bouquet of large white lilies bloomed in what had once been a
+brandied cherry jar. Its cluster of snowy flowers suggested a corner
+of a royal garden. Madame Putois had begun the basket that Gervaise
+had brought to her filled with towels, wrappers, cuffs and
+underdrawers. Augustine was dawdling with the stockings and
+washcloths, gazing into the air, seemingly fascinated by a large fly
+that was buzzing around. Clemence had done thirty-four men's shirts so
+far that day.
+
+"Always wine, never spirits!" suddenly said the zinc-worker, who felt
+the necessity of making this declaration. "Spirits make me drunk, I'll
+have none of them."
+
+Clemence took an iron from the stove with her leather holder in which
+a piece of sheet iron was inserted, and held it up to her cheek to see
+how hot it was. She rubbed it on her brick, wiped it on a piece of rag
+hanging from her waist-band and started on her thirty-fifth shirt,
+first of all ironing the shoulders and the sleeves.
+
+"Bah! Monsieur Coupeau," said she after a minute or two, "a little
+glass of brandy isn't bad. It sets me going. Besides, the sooner
+you're merry, the jollier it is. Oh! I don't make any mistake; I know
+that I shan't make old bones."
+
+"What a nuisance you are with your funeral ideas!" interrupted Madame
+Putois who did not like hearing people talk of anything sad.
+
+Coupeau had arisen and was becoming angry thinking that he had been
+accused of drinking brandy. He swore on his own head and on the heads
+of his wife and child that there was not a drop of brandy in his
+veins. And he went up to Clemence and blew in her face so that she
+might smell his breath. Then he began to giggle because her bare
+shoulders were right under his nose. He thought maybe he could see
+more. Clemence, having folded over the back of the shirt and ironed it
+on both sides, was now working on the cuffs and collar. However, as he
+was shoving against her, he caused her to make a wrinkle, obliging her
+to reach for the brush soaking in the soup plate to smooth it out.
+
+"Madame," said she, "do make him leave off bothering me."
+
+"Leave her alone; it's stupid of you to go on like that," quietly
+observed Gervaise. "We're in a hurry, do you hear?"
+
+They were in a hurry, well! What? It was not his fault. He was doing
+no harm. He was not touching, he was only looking. Was it no longer
+allowed to look at the beautiful things that God had made? All the
+same, she had precious fine arms, that artful Clemence! She might
+exhibit herself for two sous and nobody would have to regret his
+money. The girl allowed him to go on, laughing at these coarse
+compliments of a drunken man. And she soon commenced joking with him.
+He chuffed her about the shirts. So she was always doing shirts? Why
+yes, she practically lived in them. /Mon Dieu!/ She knew them pretty
+well. Hundreds and hundreds of them had passed through her hands. Just
+about every man in the neighborhood was wearing her handiwork on his
+body. Her shoulders were shaking with laughter through all this, but
+she managed to continue ironing.
+
+"That's the banter!" said she, laughing harder than ever.
+
+That squint-eyed Augustine almost burst, the joke seemed to her so
+funny. The others bullied her. There was a brat for you who laughed at
+words she ought not to understand! Clemence handed her her iron; the
+apprentice finished up the irons on the stockings and the dish-cloths
+when they were not hot enough for the starched things. But she took
+hold of this one so clumsily that she made herself a cuff in the form
+of a long burn on the wrist. And she sobbed and accused Clemence of
+having burnt her on purpose. The latter who had gone to fetch a very
+hot iron for the shirt-front consoled her at once by threatening to
+iron her two ears if she did not leave off. Then she placed a piece of
+flannel under the front and slowly passed the iron over it giving the
+starch time to show up and dry. The shirt-front became as stiff and as
+shiny as cardboard.
+
+"By golly!" swore Coupeau, who was treading behind her with the
+obstinacy of a drunkard.
+
+He raised himself up with a shrill laugh that resembled a pulley in
+want of grease. Clemence, leaning heavily over the ironing-table, her
+wrists bent in, her elbows sticking out and wide apart was bending her
+neck in a last effort; and all her muscles swelled, her shoulders rose
+with the slow play of the muscles beating beneath the soft skin, her
+breasts heaved, wet with perspiration in the rosy shadow of the half
+open chemise. Then Coupeau thrust out his hands, trying to touch her
+bare flesh.
+
+"Madame! Madame!" cried Clemence, "do make him leave off! I shall go
+away if it continues. I won't be intimated."
+
+Gervaise glanced over just as her husband's hands began to explore
+inside the chemise.
+
+"Really, Coupeau, you're too foolish," said she, with a vexed air, as
+though she were scolding a child who persisted in eating his jam
+without bread. "You must go to bed."
+
+"Yes, go to bed, Monsieur Coupeau; it will be far better," exclaimed
+Madame Putois.
+
+"Ah! Well," stuttered he, without ceasing to chuckle, "you're all
+precious particular! So one mustn't amuse oneself now? Women, I know
+how to handle them; I'll only kiss them, no more. One admires a lady,
+you know, and wants to show it. And, besides, when one displays one's
+goods, it's that one may make one's choice, isn't it? Why does the
+tall blonde show everything she's got? It's not decent."
+
+And turning towards Clemence, he added: "You know, my lovely, you're
+wrong to be to very insolent. If it's because there are others here--"
+
+But he was unable to continue. Gervaise very calmly seized hold of him
+with one hand, and placed the other on his mouth. He struggled, just
+by way of a joke, whilst she pushed him to the back of the shop,
+towards the bedroom. He got his mouth free and said that he was
+willing to go to bed, but that the tall blonde must come and warm his
+feet.
+
+Then Gervaise could be heard taking off his shoes. She removed his
+clothes too, bullying him in a motherly way. He burst out laughing
+after she had removed his trousers and kicked about, pretending that
+she was tickling him. At last she tucked him in carefully like a
+child. Was he comfortable now? But he did not answer; he called to
+Clemence:
+
+"I say, my lovely, I'm here, and waiting for you!"
+
+When Gervaise went back into the shop, the squint-eyed Augustine was
+being properly chastised by Clemence because of a dirty iron that
+Madame Putois had used and which had caused her to soil a camisole.
+Clemence, in defending herself for not having cleaned her iron, blamed
+Augustine, swearing that it wasn't hers, in spite of the spot of
+burned starch still clinging to the bottom. The apprentice, outraged
+at the injustice, openly spat on the front of Clemence's dress,
+earning a slap for her boldness. Now, as Augustine went about cleaning
+the iron, she saved up her spit and each time she passed Clemence spat
+on her back and laughed to herself.
+
+Gervaise continued with the lace of Madame Boche's cap. In the sudden
+calm which ensued, one could hear Coupeau's husky voice issuing from
+the depths of the bedroom. He was still jolly, and was laughing to
+himself as he uttered bits of phrases.
+
+"How stupid she is, my wife! How stupid of her to put me to bed!
+Really, it's too absurd, in the middle of the day, when one isn't
+sleepy."
+
+But, all on a sudden, he snored. Then Gervaise gave a sigh of relief,
+happy in knowing that he was at length quiet, and sleeping off his
+intoxication on two good mattresses. And she spoke out in the silence,
+in a slow and continuous voice, without taking her eyes off her work.
+
+"You see, he hasn't his reason, one can't be angry. Were I to be harsh
+with him, it would be of no use. I prefer to agree with him and get
+him to bed; then, at least, it's over at once and I'm quiet. Besides,
+he isn't ill-natured, he loves me very much. You could see that just a
+moment ago when he was desperate to give me a kiss. That's quite nice
+of him. There are plenty of men, you know, who after drinking a bit
+don't come straight home but stay out chasing women. Oh, he may fool
+around with the women in the shop, but it doesn't lead to anything.
+Clemence, you mustn't feel insulted. You know how it is when a man's
+had too much to drink. He could do anything and not even remember it."
+
+She spoke composedly, not at all angry, being quite used to Coupeau's
+sprees and not holding them against him. A silence settled down for a
+while when she stopped talking. There was a lot of work to get done.
+They figured they would have to keep at it until eleven, working as
+fast as they could. Now that they were undisturbed, all of them were
+pounding away. Bare arms were moving back and forth, showing glimpses
+of pink among the whiteness of the laundry.
+
+More coke had been put into the stove and the sunlight slanted in
+between the sheets onto the stove. You could see the heat rising up
+through the rays of the sun. It became so stifling that Augustine ran
+out of spit and was forced to lick her lips. The room smelled of the
+heat and of the working women. The white lilies in the jar were
+beginning to fade, yet they still exuded a pure and strong perfume.
+Coupeau's heavy snores were heard like the regular ticking of a huge
+clock, setting the tempo for the heavy labor in the shop.
+
+On the morrow of his carouses, the zinc-worker always had a headache,
+a splitting headache which kept him all day with his hair uncombed,
+his breath offensive, and his mouth all swollen and askew. He got up
+late on those days, not shaking the fleas off till about eight
+o'clock; and he would hang about the shop, unable to make up his mind
+to start off to his work. It was another day lost. In the morning he
+would complain that his legs bent like pieces of thread, and would
+call himself a great fool to guzzle to such an extent, as it broke
+one's constitution. Then, too, there were a lot of lazy bums who
+wouldn't let you go and you'd get to drinking more in spite of
+yourself. No, no, no more for him.
+
+After lunch he would always begin to perk up and deny that he had been
+really drunk the night before. Maybe just a bit lit up. He was rock
+solid and able to drink anything he wanted without even blinking an
+eye.
+
+When he had thoroughly badgered the workwomen, Gervaise would give him
+twenty sous to clear out. And off he would go to buy his tobacco at
+the "Little Civet," in the Rue des Poissonniers, where he generally
+took a plum in brandy whenever he met a friend. Then, he spent the
+rest of the twenty sous at old Francois's, at the corner of the Rue de
+la Goutte-d'Or, where there was a famous wine, quite young, which
+tickled your gullet. This was an old-fashioned place with a low
+ceiling. There was a smoky room to one side where soup was served. He
+would stay there until evening drinking because there was an
+understanding that he didn't have to pay right away and they would
+never send the bill to his wife. Besides he was a jolly fellow, who
+would never do the least harm--a chap who loved a spree sure enough,
+and who colored his nose in his turn but in a nice manner, full of
+contempt for those pigs of men who have succumbed to alcohol, and whom
+one never sees sober! He always went home as gay and as gallant as a
+lark.
+
+"Has your lover been?" he would sometimes ask Gervaise by way of
+teasing her. "One never sees him now; I must go and rout him out."
+
+The lover was Goujet. He avoided, in fact, calling too often for fear
+of being in the way, and also of causing people to talk. Yet he
+frequently found a pretext, such as bringing the washing; and he would
+pass no end of time on the pavement in front of the shop. There was a
+corner right at the back in which he liked to sit, without moving for
+hours, and smoke his short pipe. Once every ten days, in the evening
+after his dinner, he would venture there and take up his favorite
+position. And he was no talker, his mouth almost seemed sewn up, as he
+sat with his eyes fixed on Gervaise, and only removed his pipe to
+laugh at everything she said. When they were working late on a
+Saturday he would stay on, and appeared to amuse himself more than if
+he had gone to a theatre.
+
+Sometimes the women stayed in the shop ironing until three in the
+morning. A lamp hung from the ceiling and spread a brilliant light
+making the linen look like fresh snow. The apprentice would put up the
+shop shutters, but since these July nights were scorching hot, the
+door would be left open. The later the hour the more casual the women
+became with their clothes while trying to be comfortable. The
+lamplight flecked their rosy skin with gold specks, especially
+Gervaise who was so pleasantly rounded.
+
+On these nights Goujet would be overcome by the heat from the stove
+and the odor of linen steaming under the hot irons. He would drift
+into a sort of giddiness, his thinking slowed and his eyes obsessed by
+these hurrying women as their naked arms moved back and forth, working
+far into the night to have the neighborhood's best clothes ready for
+Sunday.
+
+Everything around the laundry was slumbering, settled into sleep for
+the night. Midnight rang, then one o'clock, then two o'clock. There
+were no vehicles or pedestrians. In the dark and deserted street, only
+their shop door let out any light. Once in a while, footsteps would be
+heard and a man would pass the shop. As he crossed the path of light
+he would stretch his neck to look in, startled by the sound of the
+thudding irons, and carry with him the quick glimpse of bare-
+shouldered laundresses immersed in a rosy mist.
+
+Goujet, seeing that Gervaise did not know what to do with Etienne, and
+wishing to deliver him from Coupeau's kicks, had engaged him to go and
+blow the bellows at the factory where he worked. The profession of
+bolt-maker, if not one to be proud of on account of the dirt of the
+forge and of the monotony of constantly hammering on pieces of iron of
+a similar kind, was nevertheless a well paid one, at which ten and
+even twelve francs a day could be earned. The youngster, who was then
+twelve years old, would soon be able to go in for it, if the calling
+was to his liking. And Etienne had thus become another link between
+the laundress and the blacksmith. The latter would bring the child
+home and speak of his good conduct. Everyone laughingly said that
+Goujet was smitten with Gervaise. She knew it, and blushed like a
+young girl, the flush of modesty coloring her cheeks with the bright
+tints of an apple. The poor fellow, he was never any trouble! He never
+made a bold gesture or an indelicate remark. You didn't find many men
+like him. Gervaise didn't want to admit it, but she derived a great
+deal of pleasure from being adored like this. Whenever a problem arose
+she thought immediately of the blacksmith and was consoled. There was
+never any awkward tension when they were alone together. They just
+looked at each other and smiled happily with no need to talk. It was a
+very sensible kind of affection.
+
+Towards the end of the summer, Nana quite upset the household. She was
+six years old and promised to be a thorough good-for-nothing. So as
+not to have her always under her feet her mother took her every
+morning to a little school in the Rue Polonceau kept by Mademoiselle
+Josse. She fastened her playfellows' dresses together behind, she
+filled the school-mistress's snuff-box with ashes, and invented other
+tricks much less decent which could not be mentioned. Twice
+Mademoiselle Josse expelled her and then took her back again so as not
+to lose the six francs a month. Directly lessons were over Nana
+avenged herself for having been kept in by making an infernal noise
+under the porch and in the courtyard where the ironers, whose ears
+could not stand the racket, sent her to play. There she would meet
+Pauline, the Boches' daughter, and Victor, the son of Gervaise's old
+employer--a big booby of ten who delighted in playing with very little
+girls. Madame Fauconnier who had not quarreled with the Coupeaus
+would herself send her son. In the house, too, there was an
+extraordinary swarm of brats, flights of children who rolled down the
+four staircases at all hours of the day and alighted on the pavement
+of the courtyard like troops of noisy pillaging sparrows. Madame
+Gaudron was responsible for nine of them, all with uncombed hair,
+runny noses, hand-me-down clothes, saggy stockings and ripped jackets.
+Another woman on the sixth floor had seven of them. This hoard that
+only got their faces washed when it rained were in all shapes and
+sizes, fat, thin, big and barely out of the cradle.
+
+Nana reigned supreme over this host of urchins; she ordered about
+girls twice her own size, and only deigned to relinquish a little of
+her power in favor of Pauline and Victor, intimate confidants who
+enforced her commands. This precious chit was for ever wanting to play
+at being mamma, undressing the smallest ones to dress them again,
+insisting on examining the others all over, messing them about and
+exercising the capricious despotism of a grown-up person with a
+vicious disposition. Under her leadership they got up tricks for which
+they should have been well spanked. The troop paddled in the colored
+water from the dyer's and emerged from it with legs stained blue or
+red as high as the knees; then off it flew to the locksmith's where it
+purloined nails and filings and started off again to alight in the
+midst of the carpenter's shavings, enormous heaps of shavings, which
+delighted it immensely and in which it rolled head over heels exposing
+their behinds.
+
+The courtyard was her kingdom. It echoed with the clatter of little
+shoes as they stampeded back and forth with piercing cries. On some
+days the courtyard was too small for them and the troop would dash
+down into the cellar, race up a staircase, run along a corridor, then
+dash up another staircase and follow another corridor for hours. They
+never got tired of their yelling and clambering.
+
+"Aren't they abominable, those little toads?" cried Madame Boche.
+"Really, people can have but very little to do to have time get so
+many brats. And yet they complain of having no bread."
+
+Boche said that children pushed up out of poverty like mushrooms out
+of manure. All day long his wife was screaming at them and chasing
+them with her broom. Finally she had to lock the door of the cellar
+when she learned from Pauline that Nana was playing doctor down there
+in the dark, viciously finding pleasure in applying remedies to the
+others by beating them with sticks.
+
+Well, one afternoon there was a frightful scene. It was bound to have
+come sooner or later. Nana had thought of a very funny little game.
+She had stolen one of Madame Boche's wooden shoes from outside the
+concierge's room. She tied a string to it and began dragging it about
+like a cart. Victor on his side had had the idea to fill it with
+potato parings. Then a procession was formed. Nana came first dragging
+the wooden shoe. Pauline and Victor walked on her right and left. Then
+the entire crowd of urchins followed in order, the big ones first, the
+little ones next, jostling one another; a baby in long skirts about as
+tall as a boot with an old tattered bonnet cocked on one side of its
+head, brought up the rear. And the procession chanted something sad
+with plenty of ohs! and ahs! Nana had said that they were going to
+play at a funeral; the potato parings represented the body. When they
+had gone the round of the courtyard, they recommenced. They thought it
+immensely amusing.
+
+"What can they be up to?" murmured Madame Boche, who emerged from her
+room to see, ever mistrustful and on the alert.
+
+And when she understood: "But it's my shoe!" cried she furiously. "Ah,
+the rogues!"
+
+She distributed some smacks, clouted Nana on both cheeks and
+administered a kick to Pauline, that great goose who allowed the
+others to steal her mother's shoe. It so happened that Gervaise was
+filling a bucket at the top. When she beheld Nana, her nose bleeding
+and choking with sobs, she almost sprang at the concierge's chignon.
+It was not right to hit a child as though it were an ox. One could
+have no heart, one must be the lowest of the low if one did so. Madame
+Boche naturally replied in a similar strain. When one had a beast of a
+girl like that one should keep her locked up. At length Boche himself
+appeared in the doorway to call his wife to come in and not to enter
+into so many explanations with a filthy thing like her. There was a
+regular quarrel.
+
+As a matter of fact things had not gone on very pleasantly between the
+Boches and the Coupeaus for a month past. Gervaise, who was of a very
+generous nature, was continually bestowing wine, broth, oranges and
+slices of cake on the Boches. One night she had taken the remains of
+an endive and beetroot salad to the concierge's room, knowing that the
+latter would have done anything for such a treat. But on the morrow
+she became quite pale with rage on hearing Mademoiselle Remanjou
+relate how Madame Boche had thrown the salad away in the presence of
+several persons with an air of disgust and under the pretext that she,
+thank goodness, was not yet reduced to feeding on things which others
+had messed about. From that time Gervaise took no more presents to the
+Boches--nothing. Now the Boches seemed to think that Gervaise was
+stealing something which was rightfully theirs. Gervaise saw that she
+had made a mistake. If she hadn't catered to them so much in the
+beginning, they wouldn't have gotten into the habit of expecting it
+and might have remained on good terms with her.
+
+Now the concierge began to spread slander about Gervaise. There was a
+great fuss with the landlord, Monsieur Marescot, at the October rental
+period, because Gervaise was a day late with the rent. Madame Boche
+accused her of eating up all her money in fancy dishes. Monsieur
+Marescot charged into the laundry demanding to be paid at once. He
+didn't even bother to remove his hat. The money was ready and was paid
+to him immediately. The Boches had now made up with the Lorilleuxs who
+now came and did their guzzling in the concierge's lodge. They assured
+each other that they never would have fallen out if it hadn't been for
+Clump-clump. She was enough to set mountains to fighting. Ah! the
+Boches knew her well now, they could understand how much the
+Lorilleuxs must suffer. And whenever she passed beneath the doorway
+they all affected to sneer at her.
+
+One day, Gervaise went up to see the Lorilleuxs in spite of this. It
+was with respect to mother Coupeau who was then sixty-seven years old.
+Mother Coupeau's eyesight was almost completely gone. Her legs too
+were no longer what they used to be. She had been obliged to give up
+her last cleaning job and now threatened to die of hunger if
+assistance were not forthcoming. Gervaise thought it shameful that a
+woman of her age, having three children should be thus abandoned by
+heaven and earth. And as Coupeau refused to speak to the Lorilleuxs on
+the subject saying that she, Gervaise, could very well go and do so,
+the latter went up in a fit of indignation with which her heart was
+almost bursting.
+
+When she reached their door she entered without knocking. Nothing had
+been changed since the night when the Lorilleuxs, at their first
+meeting had received her so ungraciously. The same strip of faded
+woolen stuff separated the room from the workshop, a lodging like a
+gun barrel, and which looked as though it had been built for an eel.
+Right at the back Lorilleux, leaning over his bench, was squeezing
+together one by one the links of a piece of chain, whilst Madame
+Lorilleux, standing in front of the vise was passing a gold wire
+through the draw-plate. In the broad daylight the little forge had a
+rosy reflection.
+
+"Yes, it's I!" said Gervaise. "I daresay you're surprised to see me as
+we're at daggers drawn. But I've come neither for you nor myself you
+may be quite sure. It's for mother Coupeau that I've come. Yes, I have
+come to see if we're going to let her beg her bread from the charity
+of others."
+
+"Ah, well, that's a fine way to burst in upon one!" murmured Madame
+Lorilleux. "One must have a rare cheek."
+
+And she turned her back and resumed drawing her gold wire, affecting
+to ignore her sister-in-law's presence. But Lorilleux raised his pale
+face and cried:
+
+"What's that you say?"
+
+Then, as he had heard perfectly well, he continued:
+
+"More back-bitings, eh? She's nice, mother Coupeau, to go and cry
+starvation everywhere! Yet only the day before yesterday she dined
+here. We do what we can. We haven't got all the gold of Peru. Only if
+she goes about gossiping with others she had better stay with them,
+for we don't like spies."
+
+He took up the piece of chain and turned his back also, adding as
+though with regret:
+
+"When everyone gives five francs a month, we'll give five francs."
+
+Gervaise had calmed down and felt quite chilled by the wooden looking
+faces of the Lorilleux. She had never once set foot in their rooms
+without experiencing a certain uneasiness. With her eyes fixed on the
+floor, staring at the holes of the wooden grating through which the
+waste gold fell she now explained herself in a reasonable manner.
+Mother Coupeau had three children; if each one gave five francs it
+would only make fifteen francs, and really that was not enough, one
+could not live on it; they must at least triple the sum. But Lorilleux
+cried out. Where did she think he could steal fifteen francs a month?
+It was quite amusing, people thought he was rich simply because he had
+gold in his place. He began then to criticize mother Coupeau: she had
+to have her morning coffee, she took a sip of brandy now and then, she
+was as demanding as if she were rich. /Mon Dieu!/ Sure, everyone liked
+the good things of life. But if you've never saved a sou, you had to
+do what other folks did and do without. Besides, mother Coupeau wasn't
+too old to work. She could see well enough when she was trying to pick
+a choice morsel from the platter. She was just an old spendthrift
+trying to get others to provide her with comforts. Even had he had the
+means, he would have considered it wrong to support any one in
+idleness.
+
+Gervaise remained conciliatory, and peaceably argued against all this
+bad reasoning. She tried to soften the Lorilleuxs. But the husband
+ended by no longer answering her. The wife was now at the forge
+scouring a piece of chain in the little, long-handled brass saucepan
+full of lye-water. She still affectedly turned her back, as though a
+hundred leagues away. And Gervaise continued speaking, watching them
+pretending to be absorbed in their labor in the midst of the black
+dust of the workshop, their bodies distorted, their clothes patched
+and greasy, both become stupidly hardened like old tools in the
+pursuit of their narrow mechanical task. Then suddenly anger again got
+the better of her and she exclaimed:
+
+"Very well, I'd rather it was so; keep your money! I'll give mother
+Coupeau a home, do you hear? I picked up a cat the other evening, so I
+can at least do the same for your mother. And she shall be in want of
+nothing; she shall have her coffee and her drop of brandy! Good
+heavens! what a vile family!"
+
+At these words Madame Lorilleux turned round. She brandished the
+saucepan as though she was about to throw the lye-water in her sister-
+in-law's face. She stammered with rage:
+
+"Be off, or I shall do you an injury! And don't count on the five
+francs because I won't give a radish! No, not a radish! Ah well, yes,
+five francs! Mother would be your servant and you would enjoy yourself
+with my five francs! If she goes to live with you, tell her this, she
+may croak, I won't even send her a glass of water. Now off you go!
+Clear out!"
+
+"What a monster of a woman!" said Gervaise violently slamming the
+door.
+
+On the morrow she brought mother Coupeau to live with her, putting her
+bed in the inner room where Nana slept. The moving did not take long,
+for all the furniture mother Coupeau had was her bed, an ancient
+walnut wardrobe which was put in the dirty-clothes room, a table, and
+two chairs. They sold the table and had the chairs recaned. From the
+very first the old lady took over the sweeping. She washed the dishes
+and made herself useful, happy to have settled her problem.
+
+The Lorilleux were furious enough to explode, especially since Madame
+Lerat was now back on good terms with the Coupeaus. One day the two
+sisters, the flower-maker and the chainmaker came to blows about
+Gervaise because Madame Lerat dared to express approval of the way she
+was taking care of their mother. When she noticed how this upset the
+other, she went on to remark that Gervaise had magnificent eyes, eyes
+warm enough to set paper on fire. The two of them commenced slapping
+each other and swore they never would see each other again. Nowadays
+Madame Lerat often spent her evenings in the shop, laughing to herself
+at Clemence's spicy remarks.
+
+Three years passed by. There were frequent quarrels and
+reconciliations. Gervaise did not care a straw for the Lorilleux, the
+Boches and all the others who were not of her way of thinking. If they
+did not like it, they could forget it. She earned what she wished,
+that was her principal concern. The people of the neighborhood had
+ended by greatly esteeming her, for one did not find many customers so
+kind as she was, paying punctually, never caviling or higgling. She
+bought her bread of Madame Coudeloup, in the Rue des Poissonniers; her
+meat of stout Charles, a butcher in the Rue Polonceau; her groceries
+at Lehongre's, in the Rue de la Goutte-d'Or, almost opposite her own
+shop. Francois, the wine merchant at the corner of the street,
+supplied her with wine in baskets of fifty bottles. Her neighbor
+Vigouroux, whose wife's hips must have been black and blue, the men
+pinched her so much, sold coke to her at the same price as the gas
+company. And, in all truth, her tradespeople served her faithfully,
+knowing that there was everything to gain by treating her well.
+
+Besides, whenever she went out around the neighborhood, she was
+greeted everywhere. She felt quite at home. Sometimes she put off
+doing a laundry job just to enjoy being outdoors among her good
+friends. On days when she was too rushed to do her own cooking and had
+to go out to buy something already cooked, she would stop to gossip
+with her arms full of bowls. The neighbor she respected the most was
+still the watchmaker. Often she would cross the street to greet him in
+his tiny cupboard of a shop, taking pleasure in the gaiety of the
+little cuckoo clocks with their pendulums ticking away the hours in
+chorus.
+
+
+
+                             CHAPTER VI.
+
+One afternoon in the autumn Gervaise, who had been taking some washing
+home to a customer in the Rue des Portes-Blanches, found herself at
+the bottom of the Rue des Poissonniers just as the day was declining.
+It had rained in the morning, the weather was very mild and an odor
+rose from the greasy pavement; and the laundress, burdened with her
+big basket, was rather out of breath, slow of step, and inclined to
+take her ease as she ascended the street with the vague preoccupation
+of a longing increased by her weariness. She would have liked to have
+had something to eat. Then, on raising her eyes she beheld the name of
+the Rue Marcadet, and she suddenly had the idea of going to see Goujet
+at his forge. He had no end of times told her to look in any day she
+was curious to see how iron was wrought. Besides in the presence of
+other workmen she would ask for Etienne, and make believe that she had
+merely called for the youngster.
+
+The factory was somewhere on this end of the Rue Marcadet, but she
+didn't know exactly where and street numbers were often lacking on
+those ramshackle buildings separated by vacant lots. She wouldn't have
+lived on this street for all the gold in the world. It was a wide
+street, but dirty, black with soot from factories, with holes in the
+pavement and deep ruts filled with stagnant water. On both sides were
+rows of sheds, workshops with beams and brickwork exposed so that they
+seemed unfinished, a messy collection of masonry. Beside them were
+dubious lodging houses and even more dubious taverns. All she could
+recall was that the bolt factory was next to a yard full of scrap iron
+and rags, a sort of open sewer spread over the ground, storing
+merchandise worth hundreds of thousands of francs, according to
+Goujet.
+
+The street was filled with a noisy racket. Exhaust pipes on roofs
+puffed out violent jets of steam; an automatic sawmill added a
+rhythmic screeching; a button factory shook the ground with the
+rumbling of its machines. She was looking up toward the Montmartre
+height, hesitant, uncertain whether to continue, when a gust of wind
+blew down a mass of sooty smoke that covered the entire street. She
+closed her eyes and held her breath. At that moment she heard the
+sound of hammers in cadence. Without realizing it, she had arrived
+directly in front of the bolt factory which she now recognized by the
+vacant lot beside it full of piles of scrap iron and old rags.
+
+She still hesitated, not knowing where to enter. A broken fence opened
+a passage which seemed to lead through the heaps of rubbish from some
+buildings recently pulled down. Two planks had been thrown across a
+large puddle of muddy water that barred the way. She ended by
+venturing along them, turned to the left and found herself lost in the
+depths of a strange forest of old carts, standing on end with their
+shafts in the air, and of hovels in ruins, the wood-work of which was
+still standing. Toward the back, stabbing through the half-light of
+sundown, a flame gleamed red. The clamor of the hammers had ceased.
+She was advancing carefully when a workman, his face blackened with
+coal-dust and wearing a goatee passed near her, casting a side-glance
+with his pale eyes.
+
+"Sir," asked she, "it's here is it not that a boy named Etienne works?
+He's my son."
+
+"Etienne, Etienne," repeated the workman in a hoarse voice as he
+twisted himself about. "Etienne; no I don't know him."
+
+An alcoholic reek like that from old brandy casks issued from his
+mouth. Meeting a woman in this dark corner seemed to be giving the
+fellow ideas, and so Gervaise drew back saying:
+
+"But yet it's here that Monsieur Goujet works, isn't it?"
+
+"Ah! Goujet, yes!" said the workman; "I know Goujet! If you come for
+Goujet, go right to the end."
+
+And turning round he called out at the top of his voice, which had a
+sound of cracked brass:
+
+"I say Golden-Mug, here's a lady wants you!"
+
+But a clanging of iron drowned the cry! Gervaise went to the end. She
+reached a door and stretching out her neck looked in. At first she
+could distinguish nothing. The forge had died down, but there was
+still a little glow which held back the advancing shadows from its
+corner. Great shadows seemed to float in the air. At times black
+shapes passed before the fire, shutting off this last bit of
+brightness, silhouettes of men so strangely magnified that their arms
+and legs were indistinct. Gervaise, not daring to venture in, called
+from the doorway in a faint voice:
+
+"Monsieur Goujet! Monsieur Goujet!"
+
+Suddenly all became lighted up. Beneath the puff of the bellows a jet
+of white flame had ascended and the whole interior of the shed could
+be seen, walled in by wooden planks, with openings roughly plastered
+over, and brick walls reinforcing the corners. Coal-ash had painted
+the whole expanse a sooty grey. Spider webs hung from the beams like
+rags hung up to dry, heavy with the accumulated dust of years. On
+shelves along the walls, or hanging from nails, or tossed into
+corners, she saw rusty iron, battered implements and huge tools. The
+white flame flared higher, like an explosion of dazzling sunlight
+revealing the trampled dirt underfoot, where the polished steel of
+four anvils fixed on blocks took on a reflection of silver sprinkled
+with gold.
+
+Then Gervaise recognized Goujet in front of the forge by his beautiful
+yellow beard. Etienne was blowing the bellows. Two other workmen were
+there, but she only beheld Goujet and walked forward and stood before
+him.
+
+"Why it's Madame Gervaise!" he exclaimed with a bright look on his
+face. "What a pleasant surprise."
+
+But as his comrades appeared to be rather amused, he pushed Etienne
+towards his mother and resumed:
+
+"You've come to see the youngster. He behaves himself well, he's
+beginning to get some strength in his wrists."
+
+"Well!" she said, "it isn't easy to find your way here. I thought I
+was going to the end of the world."
+
+After telling about her journey, she asked why no one in the shop knew
+Etienne's name. Goujet laughed and explained to her that everybody
+called him "Little Zouzou" because he had his hair cut short like that
+of a Zouave. While they were talking together Etienne stopped working
+the bellows and the flame of the forge dwindled to a rosy glow amid
+the gathering darkness. Touched by the presence of this smiling young
+woman, the blacksmith stood gazing at her.
+
+Then, as neither continued speaking, he seemed to recollect and broke
+the silence:
+
+"Excuse me, Madame Gervaise, I've something that has to be finished.
+You'll stay, won't you? You're not in anybody's way."
+
+She remained. Etienne returned to the bellows. The forge was soon
+ablaze again with a cloud of sparks; the more so as the youngster,
+wanting to show his mother what he could do, was making the bellows
+blow a regular hurricane. Goujet, standing up watching a bar of iron
+heating, was waiting with the tongs in his hand. The bright glare
+illuminated him without a shadow--sleeves rolled back, shirt neck
+open, bare arms and chest. When the bar was at white heat he seized it
+with the tongs and cut it with a hammer on the anvil, in pieces of
+equal length, as though he had been gently breaking pieces of glass.
+Then he put the pieces back into the fire, from which he took them one
+by one to work them into shape. He was forging hexagonal rivets. He
+placed each piece in a tool-hole of the anvil, bent down the iron that
+was to form the head, flattened the six sides and threw the finished
+rivet still red-hot on to the black earth, where its bright light
+gradually died out; and this with a continuous hammering, wielding in
+his right hand a hammer weighing five pounds, completing a detail at
+every blow, turning and working the iron with such dexterity that he
+was able to talk to and look at those about him. The anvil had a
+silvery ring. Without a drop of perspiration, quite at his ease, he
+struck in a good-natured sort of a way, not appearing to exert himself
+more than on the evenings when he cut out pictures at home.
+
+"Oh! these are little rivets of twenty millimetres," said he in reply
+to Gervaise's questions. "A fellow can do his three hundred a day. But
+it requires practice, for one's arm soon grows weary."
+
+And when she asked him if his wrist did not feel stiff at the end of
+the day he laughed aloud. Did she think him a young lady? His wrist
+had had plenty of drudgery for fifteen years past; it was now as
+strong as the iron implements it had been so long in contact with. She
+was right though; a gentleman who had never forged a rivet or a bolt,
+and who would try to show off with his five pound hammer, would find
+himself precious stiff in the course of a couple of hours. It did not
+seem much, but a few years of it often did for some very strong
+fellows. During this conversation the other workmen were also
+hammering away all together. Their tall shadows danced about in the
+light, the red flashes of the iron that the fire traversed, the gloomy
+recesses, clouds of sparks darted out from beneath the hammers and
+shone like suns on a level with the anvils. And Gervaise, feeling
+happy and interested in the movement round the forge, did not think of
+leaving. She was going a long way round to get nearer to Etienne
+without having her hands burnt, when she saw the dirty and bearded
+workman, whom she had spoken to outside, enter.
+
+"So you've found him, madame?" asked he in his drunken bantering way.
+"You know, Golden-Mug, it's I who told madame where to find you."
+
+He was called Salted-Mouth, otherwise Drink-without-Thirst, the brick
+of bricks, a dab hand at bolt forging, who wetted his iron every day
+with a pint and a half of brandy. He had gone out to have a drop,
+because he felt he wanted greasing to make him last till six o'clock.
+When he learnt that Little Zouzou's real name was Etienne, he thought
+it very funny; and he showed his black teeth as he laughed. Then he
+recognized Gervaise. Only the day before he had had a glass of wine
+with Coupeau. You could speak to Coupeau about Salted-Mouth, otherwise
+Drink-without-Thirst; he would at once say: "He's a jolly dog!" Ah!
+that joker Coupeau! He was one of the right sort; he stood treat
+oftener than his turn.
+
+"I'm awfully glad to know you're his missus," added he.
+
+"He deserves to have a pretty wife. Eh, Golden-Mug, madame is a fine
+woman, isn't she?"
+
+He was becoming quite gallant, sidling up towards the laundress, who
+took hold of her basket and held it in front of her so as to keep him
+at a distance. Goujet, annoyed and seeing that his comrade was joking
+because of his friendship for Gervaise, called out to him:
+
+"I say, lazybones, what about the forty millimetre bolts? Do you think
+you're equal to them now that you've got your gullet full, you
+confounded guzzler?"
+
+The blacksmith was alluding to an order for big bolts which
+necessitated two beaters at the anvil.
+
+"I'm ready to start at this moment, big baby!" replied Salted-Mouth,
+otherwise Drink-without-Thirst. "It sucks it's thumb and thinks itself
+a man. In spite of your size I'm equal to you!"
+
+"Yes, that's it, at once. Look sharp and off we go!"
+
+"Right you are, my boy!"
+
+They taunted each other, stimulated by Gervaise's presence. Goujet
+placed the pieces of iron that had been cut beforehand in the fire,
+then he fixed a tool-hole of large bore on an anvil. His comrade had
+taken from against the wall two sledge-hammers weighing twenty pounds
+each, the two big sisters of the factory whom the workers called
+Fifine and Dedele. And he continued to brag, talking of a half-gross
+of rivets which he had forged for the Dunkirk lighthouse, regular
+jewels, things to be put in a museum, they were so daintily finished
+off. Hang it all, no! he did not fear competition; before meeting with
+another chap like him, you might search every factory in the capital.
+They were going to have a laugh; they would see what they would see.
+
+"Madame will be judge," said he, turning towards the young woman.
+
+"Enough chattering," cried Goujet. "Now then, Zouzou, show your
+muscle! It's not hot enough, my lad."
+
+But Salted-Mouth, otherwise Drink-without-Thirst, asked: "So we strike
+together?"
+
+"Not a bit of it! each his own bolt, my friend!"
+
+This statement operated as a damper, and Goujet's comrade, on hearing
+it, remained speechless, in spite of his boasting. Bolts of forty
+millimetres fashioned by one man had never before been seen; the more
+so as the bolts were to be round-headed, a work of great difficulty, a
+real masterpiece to achieve.
+
+The three other workmen came over, leaving their jobs, to watch. A
+tall, lean one wagered a bottle of wine that Goujet would be beaten.
+Meanwhile the two blacksmiths had chosen their sledge hammers with
+eyes closed, because Fifine weighed a half pound more than Dedele.
+Salted-Mouth, otherwise Drink-without-Thirst, had the good luck to put
+his hand on Dedele; Fifine fell to Golden-Mug.
+
+While waiting for the iron to get hot enough, Salted-Mouth, otherwise
+Drink-without-Thirst, again showing off, struck a pose before the
+anvil while casting side glances toward Gervaise. He planted himself
+solidly, tapping his feet impatiently like a man ready for a fight,
+throwing all his strength into practice swings with Dedele. /Mon
+Dieu!/ He was good at this; he could have flattened the Vendome column
+like a pancake.
+
+"Now then, off you go!" said Goujet, placing one of the pieces of
+iron, as thick as a girl's wrist, in the tool-hole.
+
+Salted-Mouth, otherwise Drink-without-Thirst, leant back, and swung
+Dedele round with both hands. Short and lean, with his goatee
+bristling, and with his wolf-like eyes glaring beneath his unkempt
+hair, he seemed to snap at each swing of the hammer, springing up from
+the ground as though carried away by the force he put into the blow.
+He was a fierce one, who fought with the iron, annoyed at finding it
+so hard, and he even gave a grunt whenever he thought he had planted a
+fierce stroke. Perhaps brandy did weaken other people's arms, but he
+needed brandy in his veins, instead of blood. The drop he had taken a
+little while before had made his carcass as warm as a boiler; he felt
+he had the power of a steam-engine within him. And the iron seemed to
+be afraid of him this time; he flattened it more easily than if it had
+been a quid of tobacco. And it was a sight to see how Dedele waltzed!
+She cut such capers, with her tootsies in the air, just like a little
+dancer at the Elysee Montmartre, who exhibits her fine underclothes;
+for it would never do to dawdle, iron is so deceitful, it cools at
+once, just to spite the hammer. With thirty blows, Salted-Mouth,
+otherwise Drink-without-Thirst, had fashioned the head of his bolt.
+But he panted, his eyes were half out of his head, and got into a
+great rage as he felt his arms growing tired. Then, carried away by
+wrath, jumping about and yelling, he gave two more blows, just out of
+revenge for his trouble. When he took the bolt from the hole, it was
+deformed, its head being askew like a hunchback's.
+
+"Come now! Isn't that quickly beaten into shape?" said he all the
+same, with his self-confidence, as he presented his work to Gervaise.
+
+"I'm no judge, sir," replied the laundress, reservedly.
+
+But she saw plainly enough the marks of Dedele's last two kicks on the
+bolt, and she was very pleased. She bit her lips so as not to laugh,
+for now Goujet had every chance of winning.
+
+It was now Golden-Mug's turn. Before commencing, he gave the laundress
+a look full of confident tenderness. Then he did not hurry himself. He
+measured his distance, and swung the hammer from on high with all his
+might and at regular intervals. He had the classic style, accurate,
+evenly balanced, and supple. Fifine, in his hands, did not cut capers,
+like at a dance-hall, but made steady, certain progress; she rose and
+fell in cadence, like a lady of quality solemnly leading some ancient
+minuet.
+
+There was no brandy in Golden-Mug's veins, only blood, throbbing
+powerfully even into Fifine and controlling the job. That stalwart
+fellow! What a magnificent man he was at work. The high flame of the
+forge shone full on his face. His whole face seemed golden indeed with
+his short hair curling over his forehead and his splendid yellow
+beard. His neck was as straight as a column and his immense chest was
+wide enough for a woman to sleep across it. His shoulders and
+sculptured arms seemed to have been copied from a giant's statue in
+some museum. You could see his muscles swelling, mountains of flesh
+rippling and hardening under the skin; his shoulders, his chest, his
+neck expanded; he seemed to shed light about him, becoming beautiful
+and all-powerful like a kindly god.
+
+He had now swung Fifine twenty times, his eyes always fixed on the
+iron, drawing a deep breath with each blow, yet showing only two great
+drops of sweat trickling down from his temples. He counted: "Twenty-
+one, twenty-two, twenty-three--" Calmly Fifine continued, like a noble
+lady dancing.
+
+"What a show-off!" jeeringly murmured Salted-Mouth, otherwise Drink-
+without-Thirst.
+
+Gervaise, standing opposite Goujet, looked at him with an affectionate
+smile. /Mon Dieu!/ What fools men are! Here these two men were,
+pounding on their bolts to pay court to her. She understood it. They
+were battling with hammer blows, like two big red roosters vying for
+the favors of a little white hen. Sometimes the human heart has
+fantastic ways of expressing itself. This thundering of Dedele and
+Fifine upon the anvil was for her, this forge roaring and overflowing
+was for her. They were forging their love before her, battling over
+her.
+
+To be honest, she rather enjoyed it. All women are happy to receive
+compliments. The mighty blows of Golden-Mug found echoes in her heart;
+they rang within her, a crystal-clear music in time with the throbbing
+of her pulse. She had the feeling that this hammering was driving
+something deep inside of her, something solid, something hard as the
+iron of the bolt.
+
+She had no doubt Goujet would win. Salted-Mouth, otherwise Drink-
+without-Thirst, was much too ugly in his dirty tunic, jumping around
+like a monkey that had escaped from a zoo. She waited, blushing red,
+happy that the heat could explain the blush.
+
+Goujet was still counting.
+
+"And twenty-eight!" cried he at length, laying the hammer on the
+ground. "It's finished; you can look."
+
+The head of the bolt was clean, polished, and without a flaw, regular
+goldsmith's work, with the roundness of a marble cast in a mold. The
+other men looked at it and nodded their heads; there was no denying it
+was lovely enough to be worshipped. Salted-Mouth, otherwise Drink-
+without-Thirst, tried indeed to chuff; but it was no use, and ended by
+returning to his anvil, with his nose put out of joint. Gervaise had
+squeezed up against Goujet, as though to get a better view. Etienne
+having let go the bellows, the forge was once more becoming enveloped
+in shadow, like a brilliant red sunset suddenly giving way to black
+night. And the blacksmith and the laundress experienced a sweet
+pleasure in feeling this gloom surround them in that shed black with
+soot and filings, and where an odor of old iron prevailed. They could
+not have thought themselves more alone in the Bois de Vincennes had
+they met there in the depths of some copse. He took her hand as though
+he had conquered her.
+
+Outside, they scarcely exchanged a word. All he could find to say was
+that she might have taken Etienne away with her, had it not been that
+there was still another half-hour's work to get through. When she
+started away he called her back, wanting a few more minutes with her.
+
+"Come along. You haven't seen all the place. It's quite interesting."
+
+He led her to another shed where the owner was installing a new
+machine. She hesitated in the doorway, oppressed by an instinctive
+dread. The great hall was vibrating from the machines and black
+shadows filled the air. He reassured her with a smile, swearing that
+there was nothing to fear, only she should be careful not to let her
+skirts get caught in any of the gears. He went first and she followed
+into the deafening hubbub of whistling, amid clouds of steam peopled
+by human shadows moving busily.
+
+The passages were very narrow and there were obstacles to step over,
+holes to avoid, passing carts to move back from. She couldn't
+distinguish anything clearly or hear what Goujet was saying.
+
+Gervaise looked up and stopped to stare at the leather belts hanging
+from the roof in a gigantic spider web, each strip ceaselessly
+revolving. The steam engine that drove them was hidden behind a low
+brick wall so that the belts seemed to be moving by themselves. She
+stumbled and almost fell while looking up.
+
+Goujet raised his voice with explanations. There were the tapping
+machines operated by women, which put threads on bolts and nuts. Their
+steel gears were shining with oil. She could follow the entire
+process. She nodded her head and smiled.
+
+She was still a little tense, however, feeling uneasy at being so
+small among these rough metalworkers. She jumped back more than once,
+her blood suddenly chilled by the dull thud of a machine.
+
+Goujet had stopped before one of the rivet machines. He stood there
+brooding, his head lowered, his gaze fixed. This machine forged forty
+millimetre rivets with the calm ease of a giant. Nothing could be
+simpler. The stoker took the iron shank from the furnace; the striker
+put it into the socket, where a continuous stream of water cooled it
+to prevent softening of the steel. The press descended and the bolt
+flew out onto the ground, its head as round as though cast in a mold.
+Every twelve hours this machine made hundreds of kilograms of bolts!
+
+Goujet was not a mean person, but there were moments when he wanted to
+take Fifine and smash this machine to bits because he was angry to see
+that its arms were stronger than his own. He reasoned with himself,
+telling himself that human flesh cannot compete with steel. But he was
+still deeply hurt. The day would come when machinery would destroy the
+skilled worker. Their day's pay had already fallen from twelve francs
+to nine francs. There was talk of cutting it again. He stared at it,
+frowning, for three minutes without saying a word. His yellow beard
+seemed to bristle defiantly. Then, gradually an expression of
+resignation came over his face and he turned toward Gervaise who was
+clinging tightly to him and said with a sad smile:
+
+"Well! That machine would certainly win a contest. But perhaps it will
+be for the good of mankind in the long run."
+
+Gervaise didn't care a bit about the welfare of mankind. Smiling, she
+said to Goujet:
+
+"I like yours better, because they show the hand of an artist."
+
+Hearing this gave him great happiness because he had been afraid that
+she might be scornful of him after seeing the machines. /Mon Dieu!/ He
+might be stronger than Salted-Mouth, otherwise Drink-without-Thirst,
+but the machines were stronger yet. When Gervaise finally took her
+leave, Goujet was so happy that he almost crushed her with a hug.
+
+The laundress went every Saturday to the Goujets to deliver their
+washing. They still lived in the little house in the Rue Neuve de la
+Goutte-d'Or. During the first year she had regularly repaid them
+twenty francs a month; so as not to jumble up the accounts, the
+washing-book was only made up at the end of each month, and then she
+added to the amount whatever sum was necessary to make the twenty
+francs, for the Goujets' washing rarely came to more than seven or
+eight francs during that time. She had therefore paid off nearly half
+the sum owing, when one quarter day, not knowing what to do, some of
+her customers not having kept their promises, she had been obliged to
+go to the Goujets and borrow from them sufficient for her rent. On two
+other occasions she had also applied to them for the money to pay her
+workwomen, so that the debt had increased again to four hundred and
+twenty-five francs. Now, she no longer gave a halfpenny; she worked
+off the amount solely by the washing. It was not that she worked less,
+or that her business was not so prosperous. But something was going
+wrong in her home; the money seemed to melt away, and she was glad
+when she was able to make both ends meet. /Mon Dieu!/ What's the use
+of complaining as long as one gets by. She was putting on weight and
+this caused her to become a bit lazy. She no longer had the energy
+that she had in the past.  Oh well, there was always something coming
+in.
+
+Madame Goujet felt a motherly concern for Gervaise and sometimes
+reprimanded her. This wasn't due to the money owed but because she
+liked her and didn't want to see her get into difficulties. She never
+mentioned the debt. In short, she behaved with the utmost delicacy.
+
+The morrow of Gervaise's visit to the forge happened to be the last
+Saturday of the month. When she reached the Goujets, where she made a
+point of going herself, her basket had so weighed on her arms that she
+was quite two minutes before she could get her breath. One would
+hardly believe how heavy clothes are, especially when there are sheets
+among them.
+
+"Are you sure you've brought everything?" asked Madame Goujet.
+
+She was very strict on that point. She insisted on having her washing
+brought home without a single article being kept back for the sake of
+order, as she said. She also required the laundress always to come on
+the day arranged and at the same hour; in that way there was no time
+wasted.
+
+"Oh! yes, everything is here," replied Gervaise smiling. "You know I
+never leave anything behind."
+
+"That's true," admitted Madame Goujet; "you've got into many bad
+habits but you're still free of that one."
+
+And while the laundress emptied her basket, laying the linen on the
+bed, the old woman praised her; she never burnt the things nor tore
+them like so many others did, neither did she pull the buttons off
+with the iron; only she used too much blue and made the shirt-fronts
+too stiff with starch.
+
+"Just look, it's like cardboard," continued she, making one crackle
+between her fingers. "My son does not complain, but it cuts his neck.
+To-morrow his neck will be all scratched when we return from
+Vincennes."
+
+"No, don't say that!" exclaimed Gervaise, quite grieved. "To look
+nice, shirts must be rather stiff, otherwise it's as though one had a
+rag on one's body. You should just see what the gentlemen wear. I do
+all your things myself. The workwomen never touch them and I assure
+you I take great pains. I would, if necessary, do everything over a
+dozen times, because it's for you, you know."
+
+She slightly blushed as she stammered out the last words. She was
+afraid of showing the great pleasure she took in ironing Goujet's
+shirts. She certainly had no wicked thoughts, but she was none the
+less a little bit ashamed.
+
+"Oh! I'm not complaining of your work; I know it's perfection," said
+Madame Goujet. "For instance, you've done this cap splendidly, only
+you could bring out the embroidery like that. And the flutings are all
+so even. Oh! I recognize your hand at once. When you give even a dish-
+cloth to one of your workwomen I detect it at once. In future, use a
+little less starch, that's all! Goujet does not care to look like a
+stylish gentleman."
+
+She had taken out her notebook and was crossing off the various items.
+Everything was in order. She noticed that Gervaise was charging six
+sous for each bonnet. She protested, but had to agree that it was in
+line with present prices. Men's shirts were five sous, women's
+underdrawers four sous, pillow-cases a sou and a half, and aprons one
+sou. No, the prices weren't high. Some laundresses charged a sou more
+for each item.
+
+Gervaise was now calling out the soiled clothes, as she packed them in
+her basket, for Madame Goujet to list. Then she lingered on,
+embarrassed by a request which she wished to make.
+
+"Madame Goujet," she said at length, "if it does not inconvenience
+you, I would like to take the money for the month's washing."
+
+It so happened that that month was a very heavy one, the account they
+had made up together amounting to ten francs, seven sous. Madame
+Goujet looked at her a moment in a serious manner, then she replied:
+
+"My child, it shall be as you wish. I will not refuse you the money as
+you are in need of it. Only it's scarcely the way to pay off your
+debt; I say that for your sake, you know. Really now, you should be
+careful."
+
+Gervaise received the lecture with bowed head and stammering excuses.
+The ten francs were to make up the amount of a bill she had given her
+coke merchant. But on hearing the word "bill," Madame Goujet became
+severer still. She gave herself as an example; she had reduced her
+expenditure ever since Goujet's wages had been lowered from twelve to
+nine francs a day. When one was wanting in wisdom whilst young, one
+dies of hunger in one's old age. But she held back and didn't tell
+Gervaise that she gave her their laundry only in order to help her pay
+off the debt. Before that she had done all her own washing, and she
+would have to do it herself again if the laundry continued taking so
+much cash out of her pocket. Gervaise spoke her thanks and left
+quickly as soon as she had received the ten francs seven sous. Outside
+on the landing she was so relieved she wanted to dance. She was
+becoming used to the annoying, unpleasant difficulties caused by a
+shortage of money and preferred to remember not the embarrassment but
+the joy in escaping from them.
+
+It was also on that Saturday that Gervaise met with a rather strange
+adventure as she descended the Goujets' staircase. She was obliged to
+stand up close against the stair-rail with her basket to make way for
+a tall bare-headed woman who was coming up, carrying in her hand a
+very fresh mackerel, with bloody gills, in a piece of paper. She
+recognized Virginie, the girl whose face she had slapped at the wash-
+house. They looked each other full in the face. Gervaise shut her
+eyes. She thought for a moment that she was going to be hit in the
+face with the fish. But no, Virginie even smiled slightly. Then, as
+her basket was blocking the staircase, the laundress wished to show
+how polite she, too, could be.
+
+"I beg your pardon," she said.
+
+"You are completely excused," replied the tall brunette.
+
+And they remained conversing together on the stairs, reconciled at
+once without having ventured on a single allusion to the past.
+Virginie, then twenty-nine years old, had become a superb woman of
+strapping proportions, her face, however, looking rather long between
+her two plaits of jet black hair. She at once began to relate her
+history just to show off. She had a husband now; she had married in
+the spring an ex-journeyman cabinetmaker, who recently left the army,
+and who had applied to be admitted into the police, because a post of
+that kind is more to be depended upon and more respectable. She had
+been out to buy the mackerel for him.
+
+"He adores mackerel," said she. "We must spoil them, those naughty
+men, mustn't we? But come up. You shall see our home. We are standing
+in a draught here."
+
+After Gervaise had told of her own marriage and that she had formerly
+occupied the very apartment Virginie now had, Virginie urged her even
+more strongly to come up since it is always nice to visit a spot where
+one had been happy.
+
+Virginie had lived for five years on the Left Bank at Gros-Caillou.
+That was where she had met her husband while he was still in the army.
+But she got tired of it, and wanted to come back to the Goutte-d'Or
+neighborhood where she knew everyone. She had only been living in the
+rooms opposite the Goujets for two weeks. Oh! everything was still a
+mess, but they were slowly getting it in order.
+
+Then, still on the staircase, they finally told each other their
+names.
+
+"Madame Coupeau."
+
+"Madame Poisson."
+
+And from that time forth, they called each other on every possible
+occasion Madame Poisson and Madame Coupeau, solely for the pleasure of
+being madame, they who in former days had been acquainted when
+occupying rather questionable positions. However, Gervaise felt rather
+mistrustful at heart. Perhaps the tall brunette had made it up the
+better to avenge herself for the beating at the wash-house by
+concocting some plan worthy of a spiteful hypocritical creature.
+Gervaise determined to be upon her guard. For the time being, as
+Virginie behaved so nicely, she would be nice also.
+
+In the room upstairs, Poisson, the husband, a man of thirty-five, with
+a cadaverous-looking countenance and carroty moustaches and beard, was
+seated working at a table near the window. He was making little boxes.
+His only tools were a knife, a tiny saw the size of a nail file and a
+pot of glue. He was using wood from old cigar boxes, thin boards of
+unfinished mahogany upon which he executed fretwork and embellishments
+of extraordinary delicacy. All year long he worked at making the same
+size boxes, only varying them occasionally by inlay work, new designs
+for the cover, or putting compartments inside. He did not sell his
+work, he distributed it in presents to persons of his acquaintance. It
+was for his own amusement, a way of occupying his time while waiting
+for his appointment to the police force. It was all that remained with
+him from his former occupation of cabinetmaking.
+
+Poisson rose from his seat and politely bowed to Gervaise, when his
+wife introduced her as an old friend. But he was no talker; he at once
+returned to his little saw. From time to time he merely glanced in the
+direction of the mackerel placed on the corner of the chest of
+drawers. Gervaise was very pleased to see her old lodging once more.
+She told them whereabouts her own furniture stood, and pointed out the
+place on the floor where Nana had been born. How strange it was to
+meet like this again, after so many years! They never dreamed of
+running into each other like this and even living in the same rooms.
+
+Virginie added some further details. Her husband had inherited a
+little money from an aunt and he would probably set her up in a shop
+before long. Meanwhile she was still sewing. At length, at the end of
+a full half hour, the laundress took her leave. Poisson scarcely
+seemed to notice her departure. While seeing her to the door, Virginie
+promised to return the visit. And she would have Gervaise do her
+laundry. While Virginie was keeping her in further conversation on the
+landing, Gervaise had the feeling that she wanted to say something
+about Lantier and her sister Adele, and this notion upset her a bit.
+But not a word was uttered respecting those unpleasant things; they
+parted, wishing each other good-bye in a very amiable manner.
+
+"Good-bye, Madame Coupeau."
+
+"Good-bye, Madame Poisson."
+
+That was the starting point of a great friendship. A week later,
+Virginie never passed Gervaise's shop without going in; and she
+remained there gossiping for hours together, to such an extent indeed
+that Poisson, filled with anxiety, fearing she had been run over,
+would come and seek her with his expressionless and death-like
+countenance. Now that she was seeing the dressmaker every day Gervaise
+became aware of a strange obsession. Every time Virginie began to talk
+Gervaise had the feeling Lantier was going to be mentioned. So she had
+Lantier on her mind throughout all of Virginie's visits. This was
+silly because, in fact, she didn't care a bit about Lantier or Adele
+at this time. She was quite certain that she had no curiosity as to
+what had happened to either of them. But this obsession got hold of
+her in spite of herself. Anyway, she didn't hold it against Virginie,
+it wasn't her fault, surely. She enjoyed being with her and looked
+forward to her visits.
+
+Meanwhile winter had come, the Coupeaus' fourth winter in the Rue de
+la Goutte-d'Or. December and January were particularly cold. It froze
+hard as it well could. After New Year's day the snow remained three
+weeks without melting. It did not interfere with work, but the
+contrary, for winter is the best season for the ironers. It was very
+pleasant inside the shop! There was never any ice on the window-panes
+like there was at the grocer's and the hosier's opposite. The stove
+was always stuffed with coke and kept things as hot as a Turkish bath.
+With the laundry steaming overhead you could almost imagine it was
+summer. You were quite comfortable with the doors closed and so much
+warmth everywhere that you were tempted to doze off with your eyes
+open. Gervaise laughed and said it reminded her of summer in the
+country. The street traffic made no noise in the snow and you could
+hardly hear the pedestrians who passed by. Only children's voices were
+heard in the silence, especially the noisy band of urchins who had
+made a long slide in the gutter near the blacksmith's shop.
+
+Gervaise would sometimes go over to the door, wipe the moisture from
+one of the panes with her hand, and look out to see what was happening
+to her neighborhood due to this extraordinary cold spell. Not one nose
+was being poked out of the adjacent shops. The entire neighborhood was
+muffled in snow. The only person she was able to exchange nods with
+was the coal-dealer next door, who still walked out bare-headed
+despite the severe freeze.
+
+What was especially enjoyable in this awful weather was to have some
+nice hot coffee in the middle of the day. The workwomen had no cause
+for complaint. The mistress made it very strong and without a grain of
+chicory. It was quite different to Madame Fauconnier's coffee, which
+was like ditch-water. Only whenever mother Coupeau undertook to make
+it, it was always an interminable time before it was ready, because
+she would fall asleep over the kettle. On these occasions, when the
+workwomen had finished their lunch, they would do a little ironing
+whilst waiting for the coffee.
+
+It so happened that on the morrow of Twelfth-day half-past twelve
+struck and still the coffee was not ready. It seemed to persist in
+declining to pass through the strainer. Mother Coupeau tapped against
+the pot with a tea-spoon; and one could hear the drops falling slowly,
+one by one, and without hurrying themselves any the more.
+
+"Leave it alone," said tall Clemence; "you'll make it thick. To-day
+there'll be as much to eat as to drink."
+
+Tall Clemence was working on a man's shirt, the plaits of which she
+separated with her finger-nail. She had caught a cold, her eyes were
+frightfully swollen and her chest was shaken with fits of coughing,
+which doubled her up beside the work-table. With all that she had not
+even a handkerchief round her neck and she was dressed in some cheap
+flimsy woolen stuff in which she shivered. Close by, Madame Putois,
+wrapped up in flannel muffled up to her ears, was ironing a petticoat
+which she turned round the skirt-board, the narrow end of which rested
+on the back of a chair; whilst a sheet laid on the floor prevented the
+petticoat from getting dirty as it trailed along the tiles. Gervaise
+alone occupied half the work-table with some embroidered muslin
+curtains, over which she passed her iron in a straight line with her
+arms stretched out to avoid making any creases. All on a sudden the
+coffee running through noisily caused her to raise her head. It was
+that squint-eyed Augustine who had just given it an outlet by
+thrusting a spoon through the strainer.
+
+"Leave it alone!" cried Gervaise. "Whatever is the matter with you?
+It'll be like drinking mud now."
+
+Mother Coupeau had placed five glasses on a corner of the work-table
+that was free. The women now left their work. The mistress always
+poured out the coffee herself after putting two lumps of sugar into
+each glass. It was the moment that they all looked forward to. On this
+occasion, as each one took her glass and squatted down on a little
+stool in front of the stove, the shop-door opened. Virginie entered,
+shivering all over.
+
+"Ah, my children," said she, "it cuts you in two! I can no longer feel
+my ears. The cold is something awful!"
+
+"Why, it's Madame Poisson!" exclaimed Gervaise. "Ah, well! You've come
+at the right time. You must have some coffee with us."
+
+"On my word, I can't say no. One feels the frost in one's bones merely
+by crossing the street."
+
+There was still some coffee left, luckily. Mother Coupeau went and
+fetched a sixth glass, and Gervaise let Virginie help herself to sugar
+out of politeness. The workwomen moved to give Virginie a small space
+close to the stove. Her nose was very red, she shivered a bit,
+pressing her hands which were stiff with cold around the glass to warm
+them. She had just come from the grocery story where you froze to
+death waiting for a quarter-pound of cheese and so she raved about the
+warmth of the shop. It felt so good on one's skin. After warming up,
+she stretched out her long legs and the six of them relaxed together,
+supping their coffee slowly, surround by all the work still to be
+done. Mother Coupeau and Virginie were the only ones on chairs, the
+others, on low benches, seemed to be sitting on the floor. Squint-eyed
+Augustine had pulled over a corner of the cloth below the skirt,
+stretching herself out on it.
+
+No one spoke at first; all kept their noses in their glasses, enjoying
+their coffee.
+
+"It's not bad, all the same," declared Clemence.
+
+But she was seized with a fit of coughing, and almost choked. She
+leant her head against the wall to cough with more force.
+
+"That's a bad cough you've got," said Virginie. "Wherever did you
+catch it?"
+
+"One never knows!" replied Clemence, wiping her face with her sleeve.
+"It must have been the other night. There were two girls who were
+flaying each other outside the 'Grand-Balcony.' I wanted to see, so I
+stood there whilst the snow was falling. Ah, what a drubbing! It was
+enough to make one die with laughing. One had her nose almost pulled
+off; the blood streamed on the ground. When the other, a great long
+stick like me, saw the blood, she slipped away as quick as she could.
+And I coughed nearly all night. Besides that too, men are so stupid in
+bed, they don't let you have any covers over you half the time."
+
+"Pretty conduct that," murmured Madame Putois. "You're killing
+yourself, my girl."
+
+"And if it pleases me to kill myself! Life isn't so very amusing.
+Slaving all the blessed day long to earn fifty-five sous, cooking
+one's blood from morning to night in front of the stove; no, you know,
+I've had enough of it! All the same though, this cough won't do me the
+service of making me croak. It'll go off the same way it came."
+
+A short silence ensued. The good-for-nothing Clemence, who led riots
+in low dancing establishments, and shrieked like a screech-owl at
+work, always saddened everyone with her thoughts of death. Gervaise
+knew her well, and so merely said:
+
+"You're never very gay the morning after a night of high living."
+
+The truth was that Gervaise did not like this talk about women
+fighting. Because of the flogging at the wash-house it annoyed her
+whenever anyone spoke before her and Virginie of kicks with wooden
+shoes and of slaps in the face. It so happened, too, that Virginie was
+looking at her and smiling.
+
+"By the way," she said quietly, "yesterday I saw some hair-pulling.
+They almost tore each other to pieces."
+
+"Who were they?" Madame Putois inquired.
+
+"The midwife and her maid, you know, a little blonde. What a pest the
+girl is! She was yelling at her employer that she had got rid of a
+child for the fruit woman and that she was going to tell the police if
+she wasn't paid to keep quiet. So the midwife slapped her right in the
+face and then the little blonde jumped on her and started scratching
+her and pulling her hair, really--by the roots. The sausage-man had to
+grab her to put a stop to it."
+
+The workwomen laughed. Then they all took a sip of coffee.
+
+"Do you believe that she really got rid of a child?" Clemence asked.
+
+"Oh, yes! The rumor was all round the neighborhood," Virginie
+answered. "I didn't see it myself, you understand, but it's part of
+the job. All midwives do it."
+
+"Well!" exclaimed Madame Putois. "You have to be pretty stupid to put
+yourself in their hands. No thanks, you could be maimed for life. But
+there's a sure way to do it. Drink a glass of holy water every evening
+and make the sign of the cross three times over your stomach with your
+thumb. Then your troubles will be over."
+
+Everyone thought mother Coupeau was asleep, but she shook her head in
+protest. She knew another way and it was infallible. You had to eat a
+hard-cooked egg every two hours, and put spinach leaves on your loins.
+Squint-eyed Augustine set up a hen-cackling when she heard this. They
+had forgotten about her. Gervaise lifted up the petticoat that was
+being ironed and found her rolling on the floor with laughter. She
+jerked her upright. What was she laughing about? Was it right for her
+to be eavesdropping when older people were talking, the little goose?
+Anyway it was time for her to deliver the laundry to a friend of
+Madame Lerat at Les Batignolles. So Gervaise hung a basket on her arm
+and pushed her toward the door. Augustine went off, sobbing and
+sniveling, dragging her feet in the snow.
+
+Meanwhile mother Coupeau, Madame Putois and Clemence were discussing
+the effectiveness of hard-cooked eggs and spinach leaves. Then
+Virginie said softly:
+
+"/Mon Dieu!/ you have a fight, and then you make it up, if you have a
+generous heart." She leaned toward Gervaise with a smile and added,
+"Really, I don't hold any grudge against you for that business at the
+wash-house. You remember it, don't you?"
+
+This was what Gervaise had been dreading. She guessed that the subject
+of Lantier and Adele would now come up.
+
+Virginie had moved close to Gervaise so as not to be overheard by the
+others. Gervaise, lulled by the excessive heat, felt so limp that she
+couldn't even summon the willpower to change the subject. She foresaw
+what the tall brunette would say and her heart was stirred with an
+emotion which she didn't want to admit to herself.
+
+"I hope I'm not hurting your feelings," Virginie continued. "Often
+I've had it on the tip of my tongue. But since we are now on the
+subject, word of honor, I don't have any grudge against you."
+
+She stirred her remaining coffee and then took a small sip. Gervaise,
+with her heart in her throat, wondered if Virginie had really forgiven
+her as completely as she said, for she seemed to observe sparks in her
+dark eyes.
+
+"You see," Virginie went on, "you had an excuse. They played a really
+rotten, dirty trick on you. To be fair about it, if it had been me,
+I'd have taken a knife to her."
+
+She drank another small sip, then added rapidly without a pause:
+
+"Anyway, it didn't bring them happiness, /mon Dieu/! Not a bit of it.
+They went to live over at La Glaciere, in a filthy street that was
+always muddy. I went two days later to have lunch with them. I can
+tell you, it was quite a trip by bus. Well, I found them already
+fighting. Really, as I came in they were boxing each other's ears.
+Fine pair of love birds! Adele isn't worth the rope to hang her. I say
+that even if she is my own sister. It would take too long to relate
+all the nasty tricks she played on me, and anyhow, it's between the
+two of us. As for Lantier--well, he's no good either. He'd beat the
+hide off you for anything, and with his fist closed too. They fought
+all the time. The police even came once."
+
+Virginie went on about other fights. Oh, she knew of things that would
+make your hair stand up. Gervaise listened in silence, her face pale.
+It was nearly seven years since she had heard a word about Lantier.
+She hadn't realized what a strong curiosity she had as to what had
+become of the poor man, even though he had treated her badly. And she
+never would have believed that just the mention of his name could put
+such a glowing warmth in the pit of her stomach. She certainly had no
+reason to be jealous of Adele any more but she rejoiced to think of
+her body all bruised from the beatings. She could have listened to
+Virginie all night, but she didn't ask any questions, not wanting to
+appear much interested.
+
+Virginie stopped to sip at her coffee. Gervaise, realizing that she
+was expected to say something, asked, with a pretence of indifference:
+
+"Are they still living at La Glaciere?"
+
+"No!" the other replied. "Didn't I tell you? They separated last week.
+One morning, Adele moved out and Lantier didn't chase after her."
+
+"So they're separated!" Gervaise exclaimed.
+
+"Who are you talking about?" Clemence asked, interrupting her
+conversation with mother Coupeau and Madame Putois.
+
+"Nobody you know," said Virginie.
+
+She was looking at Gervaise carefully and could see that she was
+upset. She moved still closer, maliciously finding pleasure in
+bringing up these old stories. Of a sudden she asked Gervaise what she
+would do if Lantier came round here. Men were really such strange
+creatures, he might decide to return to his first love. This caused
+Gervaise to sit up very straight and dignified. She was a married
+woman; she would send Lantier off immediately. There was no
+possibility of anything further between them, not even a handshake.
+She would not even want to look that man in the face.
+
+"I know that Etienne is his son, and that's a relationship that
+remains," she said. "If Lantier wants to see his son, I'll send the
+boy to him because you can't stop a father from seeing his child. But
+as for myself, I don't want him to touch me even with the tip of his
+finger. That is all finished."
+
+Desiring to break off this conversation, she seemed to awake with a
+start and called out to the women:
+
+"You ladies! Do you think all these clothes are going to iron
+themselves? Get to work!"
+
+The workwomen, slow from the heat and general laziness, didn't hurry
+themselves, but went right on talking, gossiping about other people
+they had known.
+
+Gervaise shook herself and got to her feet. Couldn't earn money by
+sitting all day. She was the first to return to the ironing, but found
+that her curtains had been spotted by the coffee and she had to rub
+out the stains with a damp cloth. The other women were now stretching
+and getting ready to begin ironing.
+
+Clemence had a terrible attack of coughing as soon as she moved.
+Finally she was able to return to the shirt she had been doing. Madame
+Putois began to work on the petticoat again.
+
+"Well, good-bye," said Virginie. "I only came out for a quarter-pound
+of Swiss cheese. Poisson must think I've frozen to death on the way."
+
+She had only just stepped outside when she turned back to say that
+Augustine was at the end of the street, sliding on the ice with some
+urchins. The squint-eyed imp rushed in all red-faced and out of breath
+with snow all in her hair. She didn't mind the scolding she received,
+merely saying that she hadn't been able to walk fast because of the
+ice and then some brats threw snow at her.
+
+The afternoons were all the same these winter days. The laundry was
+the refuge for anyone in the neighborhood who was cold. There was an
+endless procession of gossiping women. Gervaise took pride in the
+comforting warmth of her shop and welcomed those who came in, "holding
+a salon," as the Lorilleuxs and the Boches remarked meanly.
+
+Gervaise was always thoughtful and generous. Sometimes she even
+invited poor people in if she saw them shivering outside. A friendship
+sprang up with an elderly house-painter who was seventy. He lived in
+an attic room and was slowly dying of cold and hunger. His three sons
+had been killed in the war. He survived the best he could, but it had
+been two years since he had been able to hold a paint-brush in his
+hand. Whenever Gervaise saw Pere Bru walking outside, she would call
+him in and arrange a place for him close to the stove. Often she gave
+him some bread and cheese. Pere Bru's face was as wrinkled as a
+withered apple. He would sit there, with his stooping shoulders and
+his white beard, without saying a word, just listening to the coke
+sputtering in the stove. Maybe he was thinking of his fifty years of
+hard work on high ladders, his fifty years spent painting doors and
+whitewashing ceilings in every corner of Paris.
+
+"Well, Pere Bru," Gervaise would say, "what are you thinking of now?"
+
+"Nothing much. All sorts of things," he would answer quietly.
+
+The workwomen tried to joke with him to cheer him up, saying he was
+worrying over his love affairs, but he scarcely listened to them
+before he fell back into his habitual attitude of meditative
+melancholy.
+
+Virginie now frequently spoke to Gervaise of Lantier. She seemed to
+find amusement in filling her mind with ideas of her old lover just
+for the pleasure of embarrassing her by making suggestions. One day
+she related that she had met him; then, as the laundress took no
+notice, she said nothing further, and it was only on the morrow that
+she added he had spoken about her for a long time, and with a great
+show of affection. Gervaise was much upset by these reports whispered
+in her ear in a corner of the shop. The mention of Lantier's name
+always caused a worried sensation in the pit of her stomach. She
+certainly thought herself strong; she wished to lead the life of an
+industrious woman, because labor is the half of happiness. So she
+never considered Coupeau in this matter, having nothing to reproach
+herself with as regarded her husband, not even in her thoughts. But
+with a hesitating and suffering heart, she would think of the
+blacksmith. It seemed to her that the memory of Lantier--that slow
+possession which she was resuming--rendered her unfaithful to Goujet,
+to their unavowed love, sweet as friendship. She passed sad days
+whenever she felt herself guilty towards her good friend. She would
+have liked to have had no affection for anyone but him outside of her
+family. It was a feeling far above all carnal thoughts, for the signs
+of which upon her burning face Virginie was ever on the watch.
+
+As soon as spring came Gervaise often went and sought refuge with
+Goujet. She could no longer sit musing on a chair without immediately
+thinking of her first lover; she pictured him leaving Adele, packing
+his clothes in the bottom of their old trunk, and returning to her in
+a cab. The days when she went out, she was seized with the most
+foolish fears in the street; she was ever thinking she heard Lantier's
+footsteps behind her. She did not dare turn round, but tremblingly
+fancied she felt his hands seizing her round the waist. He was, no
+doubt, spying upon her; he would appear before her some afternoon; and
+the bare idea threw her into a cold perspiration, because he would to
+a certainty kiss her on the ear, as he used to do in former days
+solely to tease her. It was this kiss which frightened her; it
+rendered her deaf beforehand; it filled her with a buzzing amidst
+which she could only distinguish the sound of her heart beating
+violently. So, as soon as these fears seized upon her, the forge was
+her only shelter; there, under Goujet's protection, she once more
+became easy and smiling, as his sonorous hammer drove away her
+disagreeable reflections.
+
+What a happy time! The laundress took particular pains with the
+washing of her customer in the Rue des Portes-Blanches; she always
+took it home herself because that errand, every Friday, was a ready
+excuse for passing through the Rue Marcadet and looking in at the
+forge. The moment she turned the corner of the street she felt light
+and gay, as though in the midst of those plots of waste land
+surrounded by grey factories, she were out in the country; the roadway
+black with coal-dust, the plumage of steam over the roofs, amused her
+as much as a moss-covered path leading through masses of green foliage
+in a wood in the environs; and she loved the dull horizon, streaked by
+the tall factory-chimneys, the Montmartre heights, which hid the
+heavens from view, the chalky white houses pierced with the uniform
+openings of their windows. She would slacken her steps as she drew
+near, jumping over the pools of water, and finding a pleasure in
+traversing the deserted ins and outs of the yard full of old building
+materials. Right at the further end the forge shone with a brilliant
+light, even at mid-day. Her heart leapt with the dance of the hammers.
+When she entered, her face turned quite red, the little fair hairs at
+the nape of her neck flew about like those of a woman arriving at some
+lovers' meeting. Goujet was expecting her, his arms and chest bare,
+whilst he hammered harder on the anvil on those days so as to make
+himself heard at a distance. He divined her presence, and greeted her
+with a good silent laugh in his yellow beard. But she would not let
+him leave off his work; she begged him to take up his hammer again,
+because she loved him the more when he wielded it with his big arms
+swollen with muscles. She would go and give Etienne a gentle tap on
+the cheek, as he hung on to the bellows, and then remain for an hour
+watching the rivets.
+
+The two did not exchange a dozen words. They could not have more
+completely satisfied their love if alone in a room with the door
+double-locked. The snickering of Salted-Mouth, otherwise Drink-
+without-Thirst, did not bother them in the least, for they no longer
+even heard him. At the end of a quarter of an hour she would begin to
+feel slightly oppressed; the heat, the powerful smell, the ascending
+smoke, made her dizzy, whilst the dull thuds of the hammers shook her
+from the crown of her head to the soles of her feet. Then she desired
+nothing more; it was her pleasure. Had Goujet pressed her in his arms
+it would not have procured her so sweet an emotion. She drew close to
+him that she might feel the wind raised by his hammer beat upon her
+cheek, and become, as it were, a part of the blow he struck. When the
+sparks made her soft hands smart, she did not withdraw them; on the
+contrary, she enjoyed the rain of fire which stung her skin. He for
+certain, divined the happiness which she tasted there; he always kept
+the most difficult work for the Fridays, so as to pay his court to her
+with all his strength and all his skill; he no longer spared himself
+at the risk of splitting the anvils in two, as he panted and his loins
+vibrated with the joy he was procuring her. All one spring-time their
+love thus filled Goujet with the rumbling of a storm. It was an idyll
+amongst giant-like labor in the midst of the glare of the coal fire,
+and of the shaking of the shed, the cracking carcass of which was
+black with soot. All that beaten iron, kneaded like red wax, preserved
+the rough marks of their love. When on the Fridays the laundress
+parted from Golden-Mug, she slowly reascended the Rue des
+Poissonniers, contented and tired, her mind and her body alike
+tranquil.
+
+Little by little, her fear of Lantier diminished; her good sense got
+the better of her. At that time she would still have led a happy life,
+had it not been for Coupeau, who was decidedly going to the bad. One
+day she just happened to be returning from the forge, when she fancied
+she recognized Coupeau inside Pere Colombe's l'Assommoir, in the act
+of treating himself to a round of vitriol in the company of My-Boots,
+Bibi-the-Smoker, and Salted-Mouth, otherwise Drink-without-Thirst. She
+passed quickly by, so as not to seem to be spying on them. But she
+glanced back; it was indeed Coupeau who was tossing his little glass
+of bad brandy down his throat with a gesture already familiar. He lied
+then; so he went in for brandy now! She returned home in despair; all
+her old dread of brandy took possession of her. She forgave the wine,
+because wine nourishes the workman; all kinds of spirit, on the
+contrary, were filth, poisons which destroyed in the workman the taste
+for bread. Ah! the government ought to prevent the manufacture of such
+horrid stuff!
+
+On arriving at the Rue de la Goutte-d'Or, she found the whole house
+upset. Her workwomen had left the shop, and were in the courtyard
+looking up above. She questioned Clemence.
+
+"It's old Bijard who's giving his wife a hiding," replied the ironer.
+"He was in the doorway, as drunk as a trooper, watching for her return
+from the wash-house. He whacked her up the stairs, and now he's
+finishing her off up there in their room. Listen, can't you hear her
+shrieks?"
+
+Gervaise hastened to the spot. She felt some friendship for her
+washer-woman, Madame Bijard, who was a very courageous woman. She had
+hoped to put a stop to what was going on. Upstairs, on the sixth floor
+the door of the room was wide open, some lodgers were shouting on the
+landing, whilst Madame Boche, standing in front of the door, was
+calling out:
+
+"Will you leave off? I shall send for the police; do you hear?"
+
+No one dared to venture inside the room, because it was known that
+Bijard was like a brute beast when he was drunk. As a matter of fact,
+he was scarcely ever sober. The rare days on which he worked, he
+placed a bottle of brandy beside his blacksmith's vise, gulping some
+of it down every half hour. He could not keep himself going any other
+way. He would have blazed away like a torch if anyone had placed a
+lighted match close to his mouth.
+
+"But we mustn't let her be murdered!" said Gervaise, all in a tremble.
+
+And she entered. The room, an attic, and very clean, was bare and
+cold, almost emptied by the drunken habits of the man, who took the
+very sheets from the bed to turn them into liquor. During the struggle
+the table had rolled away to the window, the two chairs, knocked over,
+had fallen with their legs in the air. In the middle of the room, on
+the tile floor, lay Madame Bijard, all bloody, her skirts, still
+soaked with the water of the wash-house, clinging to her thighs, her
+hair straggling in disorder. She was breathing heavily, with a rattle
+in her throat, as she muttered prolonged ohs! each time she received a
+blow from the heel of Bijard's boot. He had knocked her down with his
+fists, and now he stamped upon her.
+
+"Ah, strumpet! Ah, strumpet! Ah strumpet!" grunted he in a choking
+voice, accompanying each blow with the word, taking a delight in
+repeating it, and striking all the harder the more he found his voice
+failing him.
+
+Then when he could no longer speak, he madly continued to kick with a
+dull sound, rigid in his ragged blue blouse and overalls, his face
+turned purple beneath his dirty beard, and his bald forehead streaked
+with big red blotches. The neighbors on the landing related that he
+was beating her because she had refused him twenty sous that morning.
+Boche's voice was heard at the foot of the staircase. He was calling
+Madame Boche, saying:
+
+"Come down; let them kill each other, it'll be so much scum the less."
+
+Meanwhile, Pere Bru had followed Gervaise into the room. Between them
+they were trying to get him towards the door. But he turned round,
+speechless and foaming at the lips, and in his pale eyes the alcohol
+was blazing with a murderous glare. The laundress had her wrist
+injured; the old workman was knocked against the table. On the floor,
+Madame Bijard was breathing with greater difficulty, her mouth wide
+open, her eyes closed. Now Bijard kept missing her. He had madly
+returned to the attack, but blinded by rage, his blows fell on either
+side, and at times he almost fell when his kicks went into space. And
+during all this onslaught, Gervaise beheld in a corner of the room
+little Lalie, then four years old, watching her father murdering her
+mother. The child held in her arms, as though to protect her, her
+sister Henriette, only recently weaned. She was standing up, her head
+covered with a cotton cap, her face very pale and grave. Her large
+black eyes gazed with a fixedness full of thought and were without a
+tear.
+
+When at length Bijard, running against a chair, stumbled onto the
+tiled floor, where they left him snoring, Pere Bru helped Gervaise to
+raise Madame Bijard. The latter was now sobbing bitterly; and Lalie,
+drawing near, watched her crying, being used to such sights and
+already resigned to them. As the laundress descended the stairs, in
+the silence of the now quieted house, she kept seeing before her that
+look of this child of four, as grave and courageous as that of a
+woman.
+
+"Monsieur Coupeau is on the other side of the street," called out
+Clemence as soon as she caught sight of her. "He looks awfully drunk."
+
+Coupeau was just then crossing the street. He almost smashed a pane of
+glass with his shoulder as he missed the door. He was in a state of
+complete drunkenness, with his teeth clinched and his nose inflamed.
+And Gervaise at once recognized the vitriol of l'Assommoir in the
+poisoned blood which paled his skin. She tried to joke and get him to
+bed, the same as on the days when the wine had made him merry; but he
+pushed her aside without opening his lips, and raised his fist in
+passing as he went to bed of his own accord. He made Gervaise think of
+the other--the drunkard who was snoring upstairs, tired out by the
+blows he had struck. A cold shiver passed over her. She thought of the
+men she knew--of her husband, of Goujet, of Lantier--her heart
+breaking, despairing of ever being happy.
+
+
+
+                             CHAPTER VII.
+
+Gervaise's saint's day fell on the 19th of June. On such occasions,
+the Coupeaus always made a grand display; they feasted till they were
+as round as balls, and their stomachs were filled for the rest of the
+week. There was a complete clear out of all the money they had. The
+moment there were a few sous in the house they went in gorging. They
+invented saints for those days which the almanac had not provided with
+any, just for the sake of giving themselves a pretext for
+gormandizing. Virginie highly commended Gervaise for stuffing herself
+with all sorts of savory dishes. When one has a husband who turns all
+he can lay hands on into drink, it's good to line one's stomach well,
+and not to let everything go off in liquids. Since the money would
+disappear anyway, surely it was better to pay it to the butcher.
+Gervaise used that excuse to justify overeating, saying it was
+Coupeau's fault if they could no longer save a sou. She had grown
+considerably fatter, and she limped more than before because her leg,
+now swollen with fat, seemed to be getting gradually shorter.
+
+That year they talked about her saint's day a good month beforehand.
+They thought of dishes and smacked their lips in advance. All the shop
+had a confounded longing to junket. They wanted a merry-making of the
+right sort--something out of the ordinary and highly successful. One
+does not have so many opportunities for enjoyment. What most troubled
+the laundress was to decide whom to invite; she wished to have twelve
+persons at table, no more, no less. She, her husband, mother Coupeau,
+and Madame Lerat, already made four members of the family. She would
+also have the Goujets and the Poissons. Originally, she had decided
+not to invite her workwomen, Madame Putois and Clemence, so as not to
+make them too familiar; but as the projected feast was being
+constantly spoken of in their presence, and their mouths watered, she
+ended by telling them to come. Four and four, eight, and two are ten.
+Then, wishing particularly to have twelve, she became reconciled with
+the Lorilleuxs, who for some time past had been hovering around her;
+at least it was agreed that the Lorilleuxs should come to dinner, and
+that peace should be made with glasses in hand. You really shouldn't
+keep family quarrels going forever. When the Boches heard that a
+reconciliation was planned, they also sought to make up with Gervaise,
+and so they had to be invited to the dinner too. That would make
+fourteen, not counting the children. Never before had she given such a
+large dinner and the thought frightened and excited her at the same
+time.
+
+The saint's day happened to fall on a Monday. It was a piece of luck.
+Gervaise counted on the Sunday afternoon to begin the cooking. On the
+Saturday, whilst the workwomen hurried with their work, there was a
+long discussion in the shop with the view of finally deciding upon
+what the feast should consist of. For three weeks past one thing alone
+had been chosen--a fat roast goose. There was a gluttonous look on
+every face whenever it was mentioned. The goose was even already
+bought. Mother Coupeau went and fetched it to let Clemence and Madame
+Putois feel its weight. And they uttered all kinds of exclamations; it
+looked such an enormous bird, with its rough skin all swelled out with
+yellow fat.
+
+"Before that there will be the pot-au-feu," said Gervaise, "the soup
+and just a small piece of boiled beef, it's always good. Then we must
+have something in the way of a stew."
+
+Tall Clemence suggested rabbit, but they were always having that,
+everyone was sick of it. Gervaise wanted something more distinguished.
+Madame Putois having spoken of stewed veal, they looked at one another
+with broad smiles. It was a real idea, nothing would make a better
+impression than a veal stew.
+
+"And after that," resumed Gervaise, "we must have some other dish with
+a sauce."
+
+Mother Coupeau proposed fish. But the others made a grimace, as they
+banged down their irons. None of them liked fish; it was not a bit
+satisfying; and besides that it was full of bones. Squint-eyed
+Augustine, having dared to observe that she liked skate, Clemence shut
+her mouth for her with a good sound clout. At length the mistress
+thought of stewed pig's back and potatoes, which restored the smiles
+to every countenance. Then Virginie entered like a puff of wind, with
+a strange look on her face.
+
+"You've come just at the right time!" exclaimed Gervaise. "Mother
+Coupeau, do show her the bird."
+
+And mother Coupeau went a second time and fetched the goose, which
+Virginie had to take in her hands. She uttered no end of exclamations.
+By Jove! It was heavy! But she soon laid it down on the work-table,
+between a petticoat and a bundle of shirts. Her thoughts were
+elsewhere. She dragged Gervaise into the back-room.
+
+"I say, little one," murmured she rapidly, "I've come to warn you.
+You'll never guess who I just met at the corner of the street.
+Lantier, my dear! He's hovering about on the watch; so I hastened here
+at once. It frightened me on your account, you know."
+
+The laundress turned quite pale. What could the wretched man want with
+her? Coming, too, like that, just in the midst of the preparations for
+the feast. She had never had any luck; she could not even be allowed
+to enjoy herself quietly. But Virginie replied that she was very
+foolish to put herself out about it like that. Why! If Lantier dared
+to follow her about, all she had to do was to call a policeman and
+have him locked up. In the month since her husband had been appointed
+a policeman, Virginie had assumed rather lordly manners and talked of
+arresting everybody. She began to raise her voice, saying that she
+wished some passer-by would pinch her bottom so that she could take
+the fresh fellow to the police station herself and turn him over to
+her husband. Gervaise signaled her to be quiet since the workwomen
+were listening and led the way back into the shop, reopening the
+discussion about the dinner.
+
+"Now, don't we need a vegetable?"
+
+"Why not peas with bacon?" said Virginie. "I like nothing better."
+
+"Yes, peas with bacon." The others approved. Augustine was so
+enthusiastic that she jabbed the poker into the stove harder than
+ever.
+
+By three o'clock on the morrow, Sunday, mother Coupeau had lighted
+their two stoves and also a third one of earthenware which they had
+borrowed from the Boches. At half-past three the pot-au-feu was
+boiling away in an enormous earthenware pot lent by the eating-house
+keeper next door, the family pot having been found too small. They had
+decided to cook the veal and the pig's back the night before, since
+both of those dishes are better when reheated. But the cream sauce for
+the veal would not be prepared until just before sitting down for the
+feast.
+
+There was still plenty of work left for Monday: the soup, the peas
+with bacon, the roast goose. The inner room was lit by three fires.
+Butter was sizzling in the pans and emitting a sharp odor of burnt
+flour.
+
+Mother Coupeau and Gervaise, with white aprons tied on, were bustling
+all around, cleaning parsley, dashing for salt and pepper, turning the
+meat. They had sent Coupeau away so as not to have him underfoot, but
+they still had plenty of people looking in throughout the afternoon.
+The luscious smells from the kitchen had spread through the entire
+building so that neighboring ladies came into the shop on various
+pretexts, very curious to see what was being cooked.
+
+Virginie put in an appearance towards five o'clock. She had again seen
+Lantier; really, it was impossible to go down the street now without
+meeting him. Madame Boche also had just caught sight of him standing
+at the corner of the pavement with his head thrust forward in an
+uncommonly sly manner. Then Gervaise who had at that moment intended
+going for a sou's worth of burnt onions for the pot-au-feu, began to
+tremble from head to foot and did not dare leave the house; the more
+so, as the concierge and the dressmaker put her into a terrible fright
+by relating horrible stories of men waiting for women with knives and
+pistols hidden beneath their overcoats. Well, yes! one reads of such
+things every day in the newspapers. When one of those scoundrels gets
+his monkey up on discovering an old love leading a happy life he
+becomes capable of everything. Virginie obligingly offered to run and
+fetch the burnt onions. Women should always help one another, they
+could not let that little thing be murdered. When she returned she
+said that Lantier was no longer there; he had probably gone off on
+finding he was discovered. In spite of that thought, he was the
+subject of conversation around the saucepans until night-time. When
+Madame Boche advised her to inform Coupeau, Gervaise became really
+terrified, and implored her not to say a word about it. Oh, yes,
+wouldn't that be a nice situation! Her husband must have become
+suspicious already because for the last few days, at night, he would
+swear to himself and bang the wall with his fists. The mere thought
+that the two men might destroy each other because of her made her
+shudder. She knew that Coupeau was jealous enough to attack Lantier
+with his shears.
+
+While the four of them had been deep in contemplating this drama, the
+saucepans on the banked coals of the stoves had been quietly
+simmering. When mother Coupeau lifted the lids, the veal and the pig's
+back were discreetly bubbling. The pot-au-feu was steadily steaming
+with snore-like sounds. Eventually each of them dipped a piece of
+bread into the soup to taste the bouillon.
+
+At length Monday arrived. Now that Gervaise was going to have fourteen
+persons at table, she began to fear that she would not be able to find
+room for them all. She decided that they should dine in the shop; and
+the first thing in the morning she took measurements so as to settle
+which way she should place the table. After that they had to remove
+all the clothes and take the ironing-table to pieces; the top of this
+laid on to some shorter trestles was to be the dining-table. But just
+in the midst of all this moving a customer appeared and made a scene
+because she had been waiting for her washing ever since the Friday;
+they were humbugging her, she would have her things at once. Then
+Gervaise tried to excuse herself and lied boldly; it was not her
+fault, she was cleaning out her shop, the workmen would not be there
+till the morrow; and she pacified her customer and got rid of her by
+promising to busy herself with her things at the earliest possible
+moment. Then, as soon as the woman had left, she showed her temper.
+Really, if you listened to all your customers, you'd never have time
+to eat. You could work yourself to death like a dog on a leash! Well!
+No matter who came in to-day, even if they offered one hundred
+thousand francs, she wouldn't touch an iron on this Monday, because it
+was her turn to enjoy herself.
+
+The entire morning was spent in completing the purchases. Three times
+Gervaise went out and returned laden like a mule. But just as she was
+going to order wine she noticed that she had not sufficient money
+left. She could easily have got it on credit; only she could not be
+without money in the house, on account of the thousand little expenses
+that one is liable to forget. And mother Coupeau and she had lamented
+together in the back-room as they reckoned that they required at least
+twenty francs. How could they obtain them, those four pieces of a
+hundred sous each? Mother Coupeau who had at one time done the
+charring for a little actress of the Theatre des Batignolles, was the
+first to suggest the pawn-shop. Gervaise laughed with relief. How
+stupid she was not to have thought of it! She quickly folded her black
+silk dress upon a towel which she then pinned together. Then she hid
+the bundle under mother Coupeau's apron, telling her to keep it very
+flat against her stomach, on account of the neighbors who had no need
+to know; and she went and watched at the door to see that the old
+woman was not followed. But the latter had only gone as far as the
+charcoal dealer's when she called her back.
+
+"Mamma! Mamma!"
+
+She made her return to the shop, and taking her wedding-ring off her
+finger said:
+
+"Here, put this with it. We shall get all the more."
+
+When mother Coupeau brought her twenty-five francs, she danced for
+joy. She would order an extra six bottles of wine, sealed wine to
+drink with the roast. The Lorilleuxs would be crushed.
+
+For a fortnight past it had been the Coupeaus' dream to crush the
+Lorilleuxs. Was it not true that those sly ones, the man and his wife,
+a truly pretty couple, shut themselves up whenever they had anything
+nice to eat as though they had stolen it? Yes, they covered up the
+window with a blanket to hide the light and make believe that they
+were already asleep in bed. This stopped anyone from coming up, and so
+the Lorilleuxs could stuff everything down, just the two of them. They
+were even careful the next day not to throw the bones into the garbage
+so that no one would know what they had eaten. Madame Lorilleux would
+walk to the end of the street to toss them into a sewer opening. One
+morning Gervaise surprised her emptying a basket of oyster shells
+there. Oh, those penny-pinchers were never open-handed, and all their
+mean contrivances came from their desire to appear to be poor. Well,
+we'd show them, we'd prove to them what we weren't mean.
+
+Gervaise would have laid her table in the street, had she been able
+to, just for the sake of inviting each passer-by. Money was not
+invented that it should be allowed to grow moldy, was it? It is
+pretty when it shines all new in the sunshine. She resembled them so
+little now, that on the days when she had twenty sous she arranged
+things to let people think that she had forty.
+
+Mother Coupeau and Gervaise talked of the Lorilleuxs whilst they laid
+the cloth about three o'clock. They had hung some big curtains at the
+windows; but as it was very warm the door was left open and the whole
+street passed in front of the little table. The two women did not
+place a decanter, or a bottle, or a salt-cellar, without trying to
+arrange them in such a way as to annoy the Lorilleuxs. They had
+arranged their seats so as to give them a full view of the superbly
+laid cloth, and they had reserved the best crockery for them, well
+knowing that the porcelain plates would create a great effect.
+
+"No, no, mamma," cried Gervaise; "don't give them those napkins! I've
+two damask ones."
+
+"Ah, good!" murmured the old woman; "that'll break their hearts,
+that's certain."
+
+And they smiled to each other as they stood up on either side of that
+big white table on which the fourteen knives and forks, placed all
+round, caused them to swell with pride. It had the appearance of the
+altar of some chapel in the middle of the shop.
+
+"That's because they're so stingy themselves!" resumed Gervaise. "You
+know they lied last month when the woman went about everywhere saying
+that she had lost a piece of gold chain as she was taking the work
+home. The idea! There's no fear of her ever losing anything! It was
+simply a way of making themselves out very poor and of not giving you
+your five francs."
+
+"As yet I've only seen my five francs twice," said mother Coupeau.
+
+"I'll bet next month they'll concoct some other story. That explains
+why they cover their window up when they have a rabbit to eat. Don't
+you see? One would have the right to say to them: 'As you can afford a
+rabbit you can certainly give five francs to your mother!' Oh! they're
+just rotten! What would have become of you if I hadn't taken you to
+live with us?"
+
+Mother Coupeau slowly shook her head. That day she was all against the
+Lorilleuxs, because of the great feast the Coupeaus were giving. She
+loved cooking, the little gossipings round the saucepans, the place
+turned topsy-turvy by the revels of saints' days. Besides she
+generally got on pretty well with Gervaise. On other days when they
+plagued one another as happens in all families, the old woman grumbled
+saying she was wretchedly unfortunate in thus being at her daughter-
+in-law's mercy. In point of fact she probably had some affection for
+Madame Lorilleux who after all was her daughter.
+
+"Ah!" continued Gervaise, "you wouldn't be so fat, would you, if you
+were living with them? And no coffee, no snuff, no little luxuries of
+any sort! Tell me, would they have given you two mattresses to your
+bed?"
+
+"No, that's very certain," replied mother Coupeau. "When they arrive I
+shall place myself so as to have a good view of the door to see the
+faces they'll make."
+
+Thinking of the faces they would make gave them pleasure ahead of
+time. However, they couldn't remain standing there admiring the table.
+The Coupeaus had lunched very late on just a bite or two, because the
+stoves were already in use, and because they did not want to dirty any
+dishes needed for the evening. By four o'clock the two women were
+working very hard. The huge goose was being cooked on a spit. Squint-
+eyed Augustine was sitting on a low bench solemnly basting the goose
+with a long-handled spoon. Gervaise was busy with the peas with bacon.
+Mother Coupeau, kept spinning around, a bit confused, waiting for the
+right time to begin reheating the pork and the veal.
+
+Towards five o'clock the guests began to arrive. First of all came the
+two workwomen, Clemence and Madame Putois, both in their Sunday best,
+the former in blue, the latter in black; Clemence carried a geranium,
+Madame Putois a heliotrope, and Gervaise, whose hands were just then
+smothered with flour, had to kiss each of them on both cheeks with her
+arms behind her back. Then following close upon their heels entered
+Virginie dressed like a lady in a printed muslin costume with a sash
+and a bonnet though she had only a few steps to come. She brought a
+pot of red carnations. She took the laundress in her big arms and
+squeezed her tight. At length Boche appeared with a pot of pansies and
+Madame Boche with a pot of mignonette; then came Madame Lerat with a
+balm-mint, the pot of which had dirtied her violet merino dress. All
+these people kissed each other and gathered together in the back-room
+in the midst of the three stoves and the roasting apparatus, which
+gave out a stifling heat. The noise from the saucepans drowned the
+voices. A dress catching in the Dutch oven caused quite an emotion.
+The smell of roast goose was so strong that it made their mouths
+water. And Gervaise was very pleasant, thanking everyone for their
+flowers without however letting that interfere with her preparing the
+thickening for the stewed veal at the bottom of a soup plate. She had
+placed the pots in the shop at one end of the table without removing
+the white paper that was round them. A sweet scent of flowers mingled
+with the odor of cooking.
+
+"Do you want any assistance?" asked Virginie. "Just fancy, you've been
+three days preparing all this feast and it will be gobbled up in no
+time."
+
+"Well, you know," replied Gervaise, "it wouldn't prepare itself. No,
+don't dirty your hands. You see everything's ready. There's only the
+soup to warm."
+
+Then they all made themselves comfortable. The ladies laid their
+shawls and their caps on the bed and pinned up their skirts so as not
+to soil them. Boche sent his wife back to the concierge's lodge until
+time to eat and had cornered Clemence in a corner trying to find out
+if she was ticklish. She was gasping for breath, as the mere thought
+of being tickled sent shivers through her. So as not to bother the
+cooks, the other ladies had gone into the shop and were standing
+against the wall facing the table. They were talking through the door
+though, and as they could not hear very well, they were continually
+invading the back-room and crowding around Gervaise, who would forget
+what she was doing to answer them.
+
+There were a few stories which brought sly laughter. When Virginie
+mentioned that she hadn't eaten for two days in order to have more
+room for today's feast, tall Clemence said that she had cleaned
+herself out that morning with an enema like the English do. Then Boche
+suggested a way of digesting the food quickly by squeezing oneself
+after each course, another English custom. After all, when you were
+invited to dinner, wasn't it polite to eat as much as you could? Veal
+and pork and goose are placed out for the cats to eat. The hostess
+didn't need to worry a bit, they were going to clean their plates so
+thoroughly that she wouldn't have to wash them.
+
+All of them kept coming to smell the air above the saucepans and the
+roaster. The ladies began to act like young girls, scurrying from room
+to room and pushing each other.
+
+Just as they were all jumping about and shouting by way of amusement,
+Goujet appeared. He was so timid he scarcely dared enter, but stood
+still, holding a tall white rose-tree in his arms, a magnificent plant
+with a stem that reached to his face and entangled the flowers in his
+beard. Gervaise ran to him, her cheeks burning from the heat of the
+stoves. But he did not know how to get rid of his pot; and when she
+had taken it from his hands he stammered, not daring to kiss her. It
+was she who was obliged to stand on tip-toe and place her cheek
+against his lips; he was so agitated that even then he kissed her
+roughly on the eye almost blinding her. They both stood trembling.
+
+"Oh! Monsieur Goujet, it's too lovely!" said she, placing the rose-
+tree beside the other flowers which it overtopped with the whole of
+its tuft of foliage.
+
+"Not at all, not at all!" repeated he, unable to say anything else.
+
+Then, after sighing deeply, he slightly recovered himself and stated
+that she was not to expect his mother; she was suffering from an
+attack of sciatica. Gervaise was greatly grieved; she talked of
+putting a piece of the goose on one side as she particularly wished
+Madame Goujet to have a taste of the bird. No one else was expected.
+Coupeau was no doubt strolling about in the neighborhood with Poisson
+whom he had called for directly after his lunch; they would be home
+directly, they had promised to be back punctually at six. Then as the
+soup was almost ready, Gervaise called to Madame Lerat, saying that
+she thought it was time to go and fetch the Lorilleuxs. Madame Lerat
+became at once very grave; it was she who had conducted all the
+negotiations and who had settled how everything should pass between
+the two families. She put her cap and shawl on again and went upstairs
+very stiffly in her skirts, looking very stately. Down below the
+laundress continued to stir her vermicelli soup without saying a word.
+The guests suddenly became serious and solemnly waited.
+
+It was Madame Lerat who appeared first. She had gone round by the
+street so as to give more pomp to the reconciliation. She held the
+shop-door wide open whilst Madame Lorilleux, wearing a silk dress,
+stopped at the threshold. All the guests had risen from their seats;
+Gervaise went forward and kissing her sister-in-law as had been
+agreed, said:
+
+"Come in. It's all over, isn't it? We'll both be nice to each other."
+
+And Madame Lorilleux replied:
+
+"I shall be only too happy if we're so always."
+
+When she had entered Lorilleux also stopped at the threshold and he
+likewise waited to be embraced before penetrating into the shop.
+Neither the one nor the other had brought a bouquet. They had decided
+not to do so as they thought it would look too much like giving way to
+Clump-Clump if they carried flowers with them the first time they set
+foot in her home. Gervaise called to Augustine to bring two bottles of
+wine. Then, filling some glasses on a corner of the table, she called
+everyone to her. And each took a glass and drank to the good
+friendship of the family. There was a pause whilst the guests were
+drinking, the ladies raising their elbows and emptying their glasses
+to the last drop.
+
+"Nothing is better before soup," declared Boche, smacking his lips.
+
+Mother Coupeau had placed herself opposite the door to see the faces
+the Lorilleuxs would make. She pulled Gervaise by the skirt and
+dragged her into the back-room. And as they both leant over the soup
+they conversed rapidly in a low voice.
+
+"Huh! What a sight!" said the old woman. "You couldn't see them; but I
+was watching. When she caught sight of the table her face twisted
+around like that, the corners of her mouth almost touched her eyes;
+and as for him, it nearly choked him, he coughed and coughed. Now just
+look at them over there; they've no saliva left in their mouths,
+they're chewing their lips."
+
+"It's quite painful to see people as jealous as that," murmured
+Gervaise.
+
+Really the Lorilleuxs had a funny look about them. No one of course
+likes to be crushed; in families especially when the one succeeds, the
+others do not like it; that is only natural. Only one keeps it in, one
+does not make an exhibition of oneself. Well! The Lorilleuxs could not
+keep it in. It was more than a match for them. They squinted--their
+mouths were all on one side. In short it was so apparent that the
+other guests looked at them, and asked them if they were unwell. Never
+would they be able to stomach this table with its fourteen place-
+settings, its white linen table cloth, its slices of bread cut in
+advance, all in the style of a first-class restaurant. Mme. Lorilleux
+went around the table, surreptitiously fingering the table cloth,
+tortured by the thought that it was a new one.
+
+"Everything's ready!" cried Gervaise as she reappeared with a smile,
+her arms bare and her little fair curls blowing over her temples.
+
+"If the boss would only come," resumed the laundress, "we might
+begin."
+
+"Ah, well!" said Madame Lorilleux, "the soup will be cold by then.
+Coupeau always forgets. You shouldn't have let him go off."
+
+It was already half-past six. Everything was burning now; the goose
+would be overdone. Then Gervaise, feeling quite dejected, talked of
+sending someone to all the wineshops in the neighborhood to find
+Coupeau. And as Goujet offered to go, she decided to accompany him.
+Virginie, anxious about her husband went also. The three of them,
+bareheaded, quite blocked up the pavement. The blacksmith who wore his
+frock-coat, had Gervaise on his left arm and Virginie on his right; he
+was doing the two-handled basket as he said; and it seemed to them
+such a funny thing to say that they stopped, unable to move their legs
+for laughing. They looked at themselves in the pork-butcher's glass
+and laughed more than ever. Beside Goujet, all in black, the two women
+looked like two speckled hens--the dressmaker in her muslin costume,
+sprinkled with pink flowers, the laundress in her white cambric dress
+with blue spots, her wrists bare, and wearing round her neck a little
+grey silk scarf tied in a bow. People turned round to see them pass,
+looking so fresh and lively, dressed in their Sunday best on a week
+day and jostling the crowd which hung about the Rue des Poissonniers,
+on that warm June evening. But it was not a question of amusing
+themselves. They went straight to the door of each wineshop, looked
+in and sought amongst the people standing before the counter. Had that
+animal Coupeau gone to the Arc de Triomphe to get his dram? They had
+already done the upper part of the street, looking in at all the
+likely places; at the "Little Civet," renowned for its preserved
+plums; at old mother Baquet's, who sold Orleans wine at eight sous; at
+the "Butterfly," the coachmen's house of call, gentlemen who were not
+easy to please. But no Coupeau. Then as they were going down towards
+the Boulevard, Gervaise uttered a faint cry on passing the eating-
+house at the corner kept by Francois.
+
+"What's the matter?" asked Goujet.
+
+The laundress no longer laughed. She was very pale, and laboring under
+so great an emotion that she had almost fallen. Virginie understood it
+all as she caught a sight of Lantier seated at one of Francois's
+tables quietly dining. The two women dragged the blacksmith along.
+
+"My ankle twisted," said Gervaise as soon as she was able to speak.
+
+At length they discovered Coupeau and Poisson at the bottom of the
+street inside Pere Colombe's l'Assommoir. They were standing up in the
+midst of a number of men; Coupeau, in a grey blouse, was shouting with
+furious gestures and banging his fists down on the counter. Poisson,
+not on duty that day and buttoned up in an old brown coat, was
+listening to him in a dull sort of way and without uttering a word,
+bristling his carroty moustaches and beard the while. Goujet left the
+women on the edge of the pavement, and went and laid his hand on the
+zinc-worker's shoulder. But when the latter caught sight of Gervaise
+and Virginie outside he grew angry. Why was he badgered with such
+females as those? Petticoats had taken to tracking him about now!
+Well! He declined to stir, they could go and eat their beastly dinner
+all by themselves. To quiet him Goujet was obliged to accept a drop of
+something; and even then Coupeau took a fiendish delight in dawdling a
+good five minutes at the counter. When he at length came out he said
+to his wife:
+
+"I don't like this. It's my business where I go. Do you understand?"
+
+She did not answer. She was all in a tremble. She must have said
+something about Lantier to Virginie, for the latter pushed her husband
+and Goujet ahead, telling them to walk in front. The two women got on
+each side of Coupeau to keep him occupied and prevent him seeing
+Lantier. He wasn't really drunk, being more intoxicated from shouting
+than from drinking. Since they seemed to want to stay on the left
+side, to tease them, he crossed over to the other side of the street.
+Worried, they ran after him and tried to block his view of the door of
+Francois's. But Coupeau must have known that Lantier was there.
+Gervaise almost went out of her senses on hearing him grunt:
+
+"Yes, my duck, there's a young fellow of our acquaintance inside
+there! You mustn't take me for a ninny. Don't let me catch you
+gallivanting about again with your side glances!"
+
+And he made use of some very coarse expressions. It was not him that
+she had come to look for with her bare elbows and her mealy mouth; it
+was her old beau. Then he was suddenly seized with a mad rage against
+Lantier. Ah! the brigand! Ah! the filthy hound! One or the other of
+them would have to be left on the pavement, emptied of his guts like a
+rabbit. Lantier, however, did not appear to notice what was going on
+and continued slowly eating some veal and sorrel. A crowd began to
+form. Virginie led Coupeau away and he calmed down at once as soon as
+he had turned the corner of the street. All the same they returned to
+the shop far less lively than when they left it.
+
+The guests were standing round the table with very long faces. The
+zinc-worker shook hands with them, showing himself off before the
+ladies. Gervaise, feeling rather depressed, spoke in a low voice as
+she directed them to their places. But she suddenly noticed that, as
+Madame Goujet had not come, a seat would remain empty--the one next to
+Madame Lorilleux.
+
+"We are thirteen!" said she, deeply affected, seeing in that a fresh
+omen of the misfortune with which she had felt herself threatened for
+some time past.
+
+The ladies already seated rose up looking anxious and annoyed. Madame
+Putois offered to retire because according to her it was not a matter
+to laugh about; besides she would not touch a thing, the food would do
+her no good. As to Boche, he chuckled. He would sooner be thirteen
+than fourteen; the portions would be larger, that was all.
+
+"Wait!" resumed Gervaise. "I can manage it."
+
+And going out on to the pavement she called Pere Bru who was just then
+crossing the roadway. The old workman entered, stooping and stiff and
+his face without expression.
+
+"Seat yourself there, my good fellow," said the laundress. "You won't
+mind eating with us, will you?"
+
+He simply nodded his head. He was willing; he did not mind.
+
+"As well him as another," continued she, lowering her voice. "He
+doesn't often eat his fill. He will at least enjoy himself once more.
+We shall feel no remorse in stuffing ourselves now."
+
+This touched Goujet so deeply that his eyes filled with tears. The
+others were also moved by compassion and said that it would bring them
+all good luck. However, Madame Lorilleux seemed unhappy at having the
+old man next to her. She cast glances of disgust at his work-roughened
+hands and his faded, patched smock, and drew away from him.
+
+Pere Bru sat with his head bowed, waiting. He was bothered by the
+napkin that was on the plate before him. Finally he lifted it off and
+placed it gently on the edge of the table, not thinking to spread it
+over his knees.
+
+Now at last Gervaise served the vermicelli soup; the guests were
+taking up their spoons when Virginie remarked that Coupeau had
+disappeared. He had perhaps returned to Pere Colombe's. This time the
+company got angry. So much the worse! One would not run after him; he
+could stay in the street if he was not hungry; and as the spoons
+touched the bottom of the plates, Coupeau reappeared with two pots of
+flowers, one under each arm, a stock and a balsam. They all clapped
+their hands. He gallantly placed the pots, one on the right, the other
+on the left of Gervaise's glass; then bending over and kissing her, he
+said:
+
+"I had forgotten you, my lamb. But in spite of that, we love each
+other all the same, especially on such a day as this."
+
+"Monsieur Coupeau's very nice this evening," murmured Clemence in
+Boche's ear. "He's just got what he required, sufficient to make him
+amiable."
+
+The good behavior of the master of the house restored the gaiety of
+the proceedings, which at one moment had been compromised. Gervaise,
+once more at her ease, was all smiles again. The guests finished their
+soup. Then the bottles circulated and they drank their first glass of
+wine, just a drop pure, to wash down the vermicelli. One could hear
+the children quarrelling in the next room. There were Etienne,
+Pauline, Nana and little Victor Fauconnier. It had been decided to lay
+a table for the four of them, and they had been told to be very good.
+That squint-eyed Augustine who had to look after the stoves was to eat
+off her knees.
+
+"Mamma! Mamma!" suddenly screamed Nana, "Augustine is dipping her
+bread in the Dutch oven!"
+
+The laundress hastened there and caught the squint-eyed one in the act
+of burning her throat in her attempts to swallow without loss of time
+a slice of bread soaked in boiling goose fat. She boxed her ears when
+the young monkey called out that it was not true. When, after the
+boiled beef, the stewed veal appeared, served in a salad-bowl, as they
+did not have a dish large enough, the party greeted it with a laugh.
+
+"It's becoming serious," declared Poisson, who seldom spoke.
+
+It was half-past seven. They had closed the shop door, so as not to be
+spied upon by the whole neighborhood; the little clockmaker opposite
+especially was opening his eyes to their full size and seemed to take
+the pieces from their mouths with such a gluttonous look that it
+almost prevented them from eating. The curtains hung before the
+windows admitted a great white uniform light which bathed the entire
+table with its symmetrical arrangement of knives and forks and its
+pots of flowers enveloped in tall collars of white paper; and this
+pale fading light, this slowly approaching dusk, gave to the party
+somewhat of an air of distinction. Virginie looked round the closed
+apartment hung with muslin and with a happy criticism declared it to
+be very cozy. Whenever a cart passed in the street the glasses jingled
+together on the table cloth and the ladies were obliged to shout out
+as loud as the men. But there was not much conversation; they all
+behaved very respectably and were very attentive to each other.
+Coupeau alone wore a blouse, because as he said one need not stand on
+ceremony with friends and besides which the blouse was the workman's
+garb of honor. The ladies, laced up in their bodices, wore their hair
+in plaits greasy with pomatum in which the daylight was reflected;
+whilst the gentlemen, sitting at a distance from the table, swelled
+out their chests and kept their elbows wide apart for fear of staining
+their frock coats.
+
+Ah! thunder! What a hole they were making in the stewed veal! If they
+spoke little, they were chewing in earnest. The salad-bowl was
+becoming emptier and emptier with a spoon stuck in the midst of the
+thick sauce--a good yellow sauce which quivered like a jelly. They
+fished pieces of veal out of it and seemed as though they would never
+come to the end; the salad-bowl journeyed from hand to hand and faces
+bent over it as forks picked out the mushrooms. The long loaves
+standing against the wall behind the guests appeared to melt away.
+Between the mouthfuls one could hear the sound of glasses being
+replaced on the table. The sauce was a trifle too salty. It required
+four bottles of wine to drown that blessed stewed veal, which went
+down like cream, but which afterwards lit up a regular conflagration
+in one's stomach. And before one had time to take a breath, the pig's
+back, in the middle of a deep dish surrounded by big round potatoes,
+arrived in the midst of a cloud of smoke. There was one general cry.
+By Jove! It was just the thing! Everyone liked it. They would do it
+justice; and they followed the dish with a side glance as they wiped
+their knives on their bread so as to be in readiness. Then as soon as
+they were helped they nudged one another and spoke with their mouths
+full. It was just like butter! Something sweet and solid which one
+could feel run through one's guts right down into one's boots. The
+potatoes were like sugar. It was not a bit salty; only, just on
+account of the potatoes, it required a wetting every few minutes. Four
+more bottles were placed on the table. The plates were wiped so clean
+that they also served for the green peas and bacon. Oh! vegetables
+were of no consequence. They playfully gulped them down in spoonfuls.
+The best part of the dish was the small pieces of bacon just nicely
+grilled and smelling like horse's hoof. Two bottles were sufficient
+for them.
+
+"Mamma! Mamma!" called out Nana suddenly, "Augustine's putting her
+fingers in my plate!"
+
+"Don't bother me! give her a slap!" replied Gervaise, in the act of
+stuffing herself with green peas.
+
+At the children's table in the back-room, Nana was playing the role of
+lady of the house, sitting next to Victor and putting her brother
+Etienne beside Pauline so they could play house, pretending they were
+two married couples. Nana had served her guests very politely at
+first, but now she had given way to her passion for grilled bacon,
+trying to keep every piece for herself. While Augustine was prowling
+around the children's table, she would grab the bits of bacon under
+the pretext of dividing them amongst the children. Nana was so furious
+that she bit Augustine on the wrist.
+
+"Ah! you know," murmured Augustine, "I'll tell your mother that after
+the veal you asked Victor to kiss you."
+
+But all became quiet again as Gervaise and mother Coupeau came in to
+get the goose. The guests at the big table were leaning back in their
+chairs taking a breather. The men had unbuttoned their waistcoats, the
+ladies were wiping their faces with their napkins. The repast was, so
+to say, interrupted; only one or two persons, unable to keep their
+jaws still, continued to swallow large mouthfuls of bread, without
+even knowing that they were doing so. The others were waiting and
+allowing their food to settle while waiting for the main course. Night
+was slowly coming on; a dirty ashy grey light was gathering behind the
+curtains. When Augustine brought two lamps and placed one at each end
+of the table, the general disorder became apparent in the bright glare
+--the greasy forks and plates, the table cloth stained with wine and
+covered with crumbs. A strong stifling odor pervaded the room. Certain
+warm fumes, however, attracted all the noses in the direction of the
+kitchen.
+
+"Can I help you?" cried Virginie.
+
+She left her chair and passed into the inner room. All the women
+followed one by one. They surrounded the Dutch oven, and watched with
+profound interest as Gervaise and mother Coupeau tried to pull the
+bird out. Then a clamor arose, in the midst of which one could
+distinguish the shrill voices and the joyful leaps of the children.
+And there was a triumphal entry. Gervaise carried the goose, her arms
+stiff, and her perspiring face expanded in one broad silent laugh; the
+women walked behind her, laughing in the same way; whilst Nana, right
+at the end, raised herself up to see, her eyes open to their full
+extent. When the enormous golden goose, streaming with gravy, was on
+the table, they did not attack it at once. It was a wonder, a
+respectful wonderment, which for a moment left everyone speechless.
+They drew one another's attention to it with winks and nods of the
+head. Golly! What a bird!
+
+"That one didn't get fat by licking the walls, I'll bet!" said Boche.
+
+Then they entered into details respecting the bird. Gervaise gave the
+facts. It was the best she could get at the poulterer's in the
+Faubourg Poissonniers; it weighed twelve and a half pounds on the
+scales at the charcoal-dealer's; they had burnt nearly half a bushel
+of charcoal in cooking it, and it had given three bowls full of
+drippings.
+
+Virginie interrupted her to boast of having seen it before it was
+cooked. "You could have eaten it just as it was," she said, "its skin
+was so fine, like the skin of a blonde." All the men laughed at this,
+smacking their lips. Lorilleux and Madame Lorilleux sniffed
+disdainfully, almost choking with rage to see such a goose on Clump-
+Clump's table.
+
+"Well! We can't eat it whole," the laundress observed. "Who'll cut it
+up? No, no, not me! It's too big; I'm afraid of it."
+
+Coupeau offered his services. /Mon Dieu!/ it was very simple. You
+caught hold of the limbs, and pulled them off; the pieces were good
+all the same. But the others protested; they forcibly took possession
+of the large kitchen knife which the zinc-worker already held in his
+hand, saying that whenever he carved he made a regular graveyard of
+the platter. Finally, Madame Lerat suggested in a friendly tone:
+
+"Listen, it should be Monsieur Poisson; yes, Monsieur Poisson."
+
+But, as the others did not appear to understand, she added in a more
+flattering manner still:
+
+"Why, yes, of course, it should be Monsieur Poisson, who's accustomed
+to the use of arms."
+
+And she passed the kitchen knife to the policeman. All round the table
+they laughed with pleasure and approval. Poisson bowed his head with
+military stiffness, and moved the goose before him. When he thrust the
+knife into the goose, which cracked, Lorilleux was seized with an
+outburst of patriotism.
+
+"Ah! if it was a Cossack!" he cried.
+
+"Have you ever fought with Cossacks, Monsieur Poisson?" asked Madame
+Boche.
+
+"No, but I have with Bedouins," replied the policeman, who was cutting
+off a wing. "There are no more Cossacks."
+
+A great silence ensued. Necks were stretched out as every eye followed
+the knife. Poisson was preparing a surprise. Suddenly he gave a last
+cut; the hind-quarter of the bird came off and stood up on end, rump
+in the air, making a bishop's mitre. Then admiration burst forth. None
+were so agreeable in company as retired soldiers.
+
+The policeman allowed several minutes for the company to admire the
+bishop's mitre and then finished cutting the slices and arranging them
+on the platter. The carving of the goose was now complete.
+
+When the ladies complained that they were getting rather warm, Coupeau
+opened the door to the street and the gaiety continued against the
+background of cabs rattling down the street and pedestrians bustling
+along the pavement. The goose was attacked furiously by the rested
+jaws. Boche remarked that just having to wait and watch the goose
+being carved had been enough to make the veal and pork slide down to
+his ankles.
+
+Then ensued a famous tuck-in; that is to say, not one of the party
+recollected ever having before run the risk of such a stomach-ache.
+Gervaise, looking enormous, her elbows on the table, ate great pieces
+of breast, without uttering a word, for fear of losing a mouthful, and
+merely felt slightly ashamed and annoyed at exhibiting herself thus,
+as gluttonous as a cat before Goujet. Goujet, however, was too busy
+stuffing himself to notice that she was all red with eating. Besides,
+in spite of her greediness, she remained so nice and good! She did not
+speak, but she troubled herself every minute to look after Pere Bru,
+and place some dainty bit on his plate. It was even touching to see
+this glutton take a piece of wing almost from her mouth to give it to
+the old fellow, who did not appear to be very particular, and who
+swallowed everything with bowed head, almost besotted from having
+gobbled so much after he had forgotten the taste of bread. The
+Lorilleuxs expended their rage on the roast goose; they ate enough to
+last them three days; they would have stowed away the dish, the table,
+the very shop, if they could have ruined Clump-Clump by doing so. All
+the ladies had wanted a piece of the breast, traditionally the ladies'
+portion. Madame Lerat, Madame Boche, Madame Putois, were all picking
+bones; whilst mother Coupeau, who adored the neck, was tearing off the
+flesh with her two last teeth. Virginie liked the skin when it was
+nicely browned, and the other guests gallantly passed their skin to
+her; so much so, that Poisson looked at his wife severely, and bade
+her stop, because she had had enough as it was. Once already, she had
+been a fortnight in bed, with her stomach swollen out, through having
+eaten too much roast goose. But Coupeau got angry and helped Virginie
+to the upper part of a leg, saying that, by Jove's thunder! if she did
+not pick it, she wasn't a proper woman. Had roast goose ever done harm
+to anybody? On the contrary, it cured all complaints of the spleen.
+One could eat it without bread, like dessert. He could go on
+swallowing it all night without being the least bit inconvenienced;
+and, just to show off, he stuffed a whole drum-stick into his mouth.
+Meanwhile, Clemence had got to the end of the rump, and was sucking it
+with her lips, whilst she wriggled with laughter on her chair because
+Boche was whispering all sorts of smutty things to her. Ah, by Jove!
+Yes, there was a dinner! When one's at it, one's at it, you know; and
+if one only has the chance now and then, one would be precious stupid
+not to stuff oneself up to one's ears. Really, one could see their
+sides puff out by degrees. They were cracking in their skins, the
+blessed gormandizers! With their mouths open, their chins besmeared
+with grease, they had such bloated red faces that one would have said
+they were bursting with prosperity.
+
+As for the wine, well, that was flowing as freely around the table as
+water flows in the Seine. It was like a brook overflowing after a
+rainstorm when the soil is parched. Coupeau raised the bottle high
+when pouring to see the red jet foam in the glass. Whenever he emptied
+a bottle, he would turn it upside down and shake it. One more dead
+solder! In a corner of the laundry the pile of dead soldiers grew
+larger and larger, a veritable cemetery of bottles onto which other
+debris from the table was tossed.
+
+Coupeau became indignant when Madame Putois asked for water. He took
+all the water pitchers from the table. Do respectable citizens ever
+drink water? Did she want to grow frogs in her stomach?
+
+Many glasses were emptied at one gulp. You could hear the liquid
+gurgling its way down the throats like rainwater in a drainpipe after
+a storm. One might say it was raining wine. /Mon Dieu!/ the juice of
+the grape was a remarkable invention. Surely the workingman couldn't
+get along without his wine. Papa Noah must have planted his grapevine
+for the benefit of zinc-workers, tailors and blacksmiths. It
+brightened you up and refreshed you after a hard day's work.
+
+Coupeau was in a high mood. He proclaimed that all the ladies present
+were very cute, and jingled the three sous in his pocket as if they
+had been five-franc pieces.
+
+Even Goujet, who was ordinarily very sober, had taken plenty of wine.
+Boche's eyes were narrowing, those of Lorilleux were paling, and
+Poisson was developing expressions of stern severity on his soldierly
+face. All the men were as drunk as lords and the ladies had reached a
+certain point also, feeling so warm that they had to loosen their
+clothes. Only Clemence carried this a bit too far.
+
+Suddenly Gervaise recollected the six sealed bottles of wine. She had
+forgotten to put them on the table with the goose; she fetched them,
+and all the glasses were filled. Then Poisson rose, and holding his
+glass in the air, said:
+
+"I drink to the health of the missus."
+
+All of them stood up, making a great noise with their chairs as they
+moved. Holding out their arms, they clinked glasses in the midst of an
+immense uproar.
+
+"Here's to this day fifty years hence!" cried Virginie.
+
+"No, no," replied Gervaise, deeply moved and smiling; "I shall be too
+old. Ah! a day comes when one's glad to go."
+
+Through the door, which was wide open, the neighborhood was looking on
+and taking part in the festivities. Passers-by stopped in the broad
+ray of light which shone over the pavement, and laughed heartily at
+seeing all these people stuffing away so jovially.
+
+The aroma from the roasted goose brought joy to the whole street. The
+clerks on the sidewalk opposite thought they could almost taste the
+bird. Others came out frequently to stand in front of their shops,
+sniffing the air and licking their lips. The little jeweler was unable
+to work, dizzy from having counted so many bottles. He seemed to have
+lost his head among his merry little cuckoo clocks.
+
+Yes, the neighbors were devoured with envy, as Coupeau said. But why
+should there be any secret made about the matter? The party, now
+fairly launched, was no longer ashamed of being seen at table; on the
+contrary, it felt flattered and excited at seeing the crowd gathered
+there, gaping with gluttony; it would have liked to have knocked out
+the shop-front and dragged the table into the road-way, and there to
+have enjoyed the dessert under the very nose of the public, and amidst
+the commotion of the thoroughfare. Nothing disgusting was to be seen
+in them, was there? Then there was no need to shut themselves in like
+selfish people. Coupeau, noticing the little clockmaker looked very
+thirsty, held up a bottle; and as the other nodded his head, he
+carried him the bottle and a glass. A fraternity was established in
+the street. They drank to anyone who passed. They called in any chaps
+who looked the right sort. The feast spread, extending from one to
+another, to the degree that the entire neighborhood of the Goutte-d'Or
+sniffed the grub, and held its stomach, amidst a rumpus worthy of the
+devil and all his demons. For some minutes, Madame Vigouroux, the
+charcoal-dealer, had been passing to and fro before the door.
+
+"Hi! Madame Vigouroux! Madame Vigouroux!" yelled the party.
+
+She entered with a broad grin on her face, which was washed for once,
+and so fat that the body of her dress was bursting. The men liked
+pinching her, because they might pinch her all over without ever
+encountering a bone. Boche made room for her beside him and reached
+slyly under the table to grab her knee. But she, being accustomed to
+that sort of thing, quietly tossed off a glass of wine, and related
+that all the neighbors were at their windows, and that some of the
+people of the house were beginning to get angry.
+
+"Oh, that's our business," said Madame Boche. "We're the concierges,
+aren't we? Well, we're answerable for good order. Let them come and
+complain to us, we'll receive them in a way they don't expect."
+
+In the back-room there had just been a furious fight between Nana and
+Augustine, on account of the Dutch oven, which both wanted to scrape
+out. For a quarter of an hour, the Dutch oven had rebounded over the
+tile floor with the noise of an old saucepan. Nana was now nursing
+little Victor, who had a goose-bone in his throat. She pushed her
+fingers under his chin, and made him swallow big lumps of sugar by way
+of a remedy. That did not prevent her keeping an eye on the big table.
+At every minute she came and asked for wine, bread, or meat, for
+Etienne and Pauline, she said.
+
+"Here! Burst!" her mother would say to her. "Perhaps you'll leave us
+in peace now!"
+
+The children were scarcely able to swallow any longer, but they
+continued to eat all the same, banging their forks down on the table
+to the tune of a canticle, in order to excite themselves.
+
+In the midst of the noise, however, a conversation was going on
+between Pere Bru and mother Coupeau. The old fellow, who was ghastly
+pale in spite of the wine and the food, was talking of his sons who
+had died in the Crimea. Ah! if the lads had only lived, he would have
+had bread to eat every day. But mother Coupeau, speaking thickly,
+leant towards him and said:
+
+"Ah! one has many worries with children! For instance, I appear to be
+happy here, don't I? Well! I cry more often than you think. No, don't
+wish you still had your children."
+
+Pere Bru shook his head.
+
+"I can't get work anywhere," murmured he. "I'm too old. When I enter a
+workshop the young fellows joke, and ask me if I polished Henri IV.'s
+boots. To-day it's all over; they won't have me anywhere. Last year I
+could still earn thirty sous a day painting a bridge. I had to lie on
+my back with the river flowing under me. I've had a bad cough ever
+since then. Now, I'm finished."
+
+He looked at his poor stiff hands and added:
+
+"It's easy to understand, I'm no longer good for anything. They're
+right; were I in their place I should do the same. You see, the
+misfortune is that I'm not dead. Yes, it's my fault. One should lie
+down and croak when one's no longer able to work."
+
+"Really," said Lorilleux, who was listening, "I don't understand why
+the Government doesn't come to the aid of the invalids of labor. I was
+reading that in a newspaper the other day."
+
+But Poisson thought it his duty to defend the Government.
+
+"Workmen are not soldiers," declared he. "The Invalides is for
+soldiers. You must not ask for what is impossible."
+
+Dessert was now served. In the centre of the table was a Savoy cake in
+the form of a temple, with a dome fluted with melon slices; and this
+dome was surmounted by an artificial rose, close to which was a silver
+paper butterfly, fluttering at the end of a wire. Two drops of gum in
+the centre of the flower imitated dew. Then, to the left, a piece of
+cream cheese floated in a deep dish; whilst in another dish to the
+right, were piled up some large crushed strawberries, with the juice
+running from them. However, there was still some salad left, some
+large coss lettuce leaves soaked with oil.
+
+"Come, Madame Boche," said Gervaise, coaxingly, "a little more salad.
+I know how fond you are of it."
+
+"No, no, thank you! I've already had as much as I can manage," replied
+the concierge.
+
+The laundress turning towards Virginie, the latter put her finger in
+her mouth, as though to touch the food she had taken.
+
+"Really, I'm full," murmured she. "There's no room left. I couldn't
+swallow a mouthful."
+
+"Oh! but if you tried a little," resumed Gervaise with a smile. "One
+can always find a tiny corner empty. Once doesn't need to be hungry to
+be able to eat salad. You're surely not going to let this be wasted?"
+
+"You can eat it to-morrow," said Madame Lerat; "it's nicer when its
+wilted."
+
+The ladies sighed as they looked regretfully at the salad-bowl.
+Clemence related that she had one day eaten three bunches of
+watercresses at her lunch. Madame Putois could do more than that, she
+would take a coss lettuce and munch it up with some salt just as it
+was without separating the leaves. They could all have lived on salad,
+would have treated themselves to tubfuls. And, this conversation
+aiding, the ladies cleaned out the salad-bowl.
+
+"I could go on all fours in a meadow," observed the concierge with her
+mouth full.
+
+Then they chuckled together as they eyed the dessert. Dessert did not
+count. It came rather late but that did not matter; they would nurse
+it all the same. When you're that stuffed, you can't let yourself be
+stopped by strawberries and cake. There was no hurry. They had the
+entire night if they wished. So they piled their plates with
+strawberries and cream cheese. Meanwhile the men lit their pipes. They
+were drinking the ordinary wine while they smoked since the special
+wine had been finished. Now they insisted that Gervaise cut the Savoy
+cake. Poisson got up and took the rose from the cake and presented it
+in his most gallant manner to the hostess amidst applause from the
+other guests. She pinned it over her left breast, near the heart. The
+silver butterfly fluttered with her every movement.
+
+"Well, look," exclaimed Lorilleux, who had just made a discovery,
+"it's your work-table that we're eating off! Ah, well! I daresay it's
+never seen so much work before!"
+
+This malicious joke had a great success. Witty allusions came from all
+sides. Clemence could not swallow a spoonful of strawberries without
+saying that it was another shirt ironed; Madame Lerat pretended that
+the cream cheese smelt of starch; whilst Madame Lorilleux said between
+her teeth that it was capital fun to gobble up the money so quickly on
+the very boards on which one had had so much trouble to earn it. There
+was quite a tempest of shouts and laughter.
+
+But suddenly a loud voice called for silence. It was Boche who,
+standing up in an affected and vulgar way, was commencing to sing "The
+Volcano of Love, or the Seductive Trooper."
+
+A thunder of applause greeted the first verse. Yes, yes, they would
+sing songs! Everyone in turn. It was more amusing than anything else.
+And they all put their elbows on the table or leant back in their
+chairs, nodding their heads at the best parts and sipping their wine
+when they came to the choruses. That rogue Boche had a special gift
+for comic songs. He would almost make the water pitchers laugh when he
+imitated the raw recruit with his fingers apart and his hat on the
+back of his head. Directly after "The Volcano of Love," he burst out
+into "The Baroness de Follebiche," one of his greatest successes. When
+he reached the third verse he turned towards Clemence and almost
+murmured it in a slow and voluptuous tone of voice:
+
+  "The baroness had people there,
+     Her sisters four, oh! rare surprise;
+   And three were dark, and one was fair;
+     Between them, eight bewitching eyes."
+
+Then the whole party, carried away, joined in the chorus. The men beat
+time with their heels, whilst the ladies did the same with their
+knives against their glasses. All of them singing at the top of their
+voices:
+
+  "By Jingo! who on earth will pay
+     A drink to the pa--to the pa--pa--?
+   By Jingo! who on earth will pay
+     A drink to the pa--to the pa--tro--o--l?"
+
+The panes of glass of the shop-front resounded, the singers' great
+volume of breath agitated the muslin curtains. Whilst all this was
+going on, Virginie had already twice disappeared and each time, on
+returning, had leant towards Gervaise's ear to whisper a piece of
+information. When she returned the third time, in the midst of the
+uproar, she said to her:
+
+"My dear, he's still at Francois's; he's pretending to read the
+newspaper. He's certainly meditating some evil design."
+
+She was speaking of Lantier. It was him that she had been watching. At
+each fresh report Gervaise became more and more grave.
+
+"Is he drunk?" asked she of Virginie.
+
+"No," replied the tall brunette. "He looks as though he had merely had
+what he required. It's that especially which makes me anxious. Why
+does he remain there if he's had all he wanted? /Mon Dieu!/ I hope
+nothing is going to happen!"
+
+The laundress, greatly upset, begged her to leave off. A profound
+silence suddenly succeeded the clamor. Madame Putois had just risen
+and was about to sing "The Boarding of the Pirate." The guests, silent
+and thoughtful, watched her; even Poisson had laid his pipe down on
+the edge of the table the better to listen to her. She stood up to the
+full height of her little figure, with a fierce expression about her,
+though her face looked quite pale beneath her black cap; she thrust
+out her left fist with a satisfied pride as she thundered in a voice
+bigger than herself:
+
+  "If the pirate audacious
+   Should o'er the waves chase us,
+   The buccaneer slaughter,
+   Accord him no quarter.
+   To the guns every man,
+   And with rum fill each can!
+   While these pests of the seas
+   Dangle from the cross-trees."
+
+That was something serious. By Jove! it gave one a fine idea of the
+real thing. Poisson, who had been on board ship nodded his head in
+approval of the description. One could see too that that song was in
+accordance with Madame Putois's own feeling. Coupeau then told how
+Madame Putois, one evening on Rue Poulet, had slapped the face of four
+men who sought to attack her virtue.
+
+With the assistance of mother Coupeau, Gervaise was now serving the
+coffee, though some of the guests had not yet finished their Savoy
+cake. They would not let her sit down again, but shouted that it was
+her turn. With a pale face, and looking very ill at ease, she tried to
+excuse herself; she seemed so queer that someone inquired whether the
+goose had disagreed with her. She finally gave them "Oh! let me
+slumber!" in a sweet and feeble voice. When she reached the chorus
+with its wish for a sleep filled with beautiful dreams, her eyelids
+partly closed and her rapt gaze lost itself in the darkness of the
+street.
+
+Poisson stood next and with an abrupt bow to the ladies, sang a
+drinking song: "The Wines of France." But his voice wasn't very
+musical and only the final verse, a patriotic one mentioning the
+tricolor flag, was a success. Then he raised his glass high, juggled
+it a moment, and poured the contents into his open mouth.
+
+Then came a string of ballads; Madame Boche's barcarolle was all about
+Venice and the gondoliers; Madame Lorilleux sang of Seville and the
+Andalusians in her bolero; whilst Lorilleux went so far as to allude
+to the perfumes of Arabia, in reference to the loves of Fatima the
+dancer.
+
+Golden horizons were opening up all around the heavily laden table.
+The men were smoking their pipes and the women unconsciously smiling
+with pleasure. All were dreaming they were far away.
+
+Clemence began to sing softly "Let's Make a Nest" with a tremolo in
+her voice which pleased them greatly for it made them think of the
+open country, of songbirds, of dancing beneath an arbor, and of
+flowers. In short, it made them think of the Bois de Vincennes when
+they went there for a picnic.
+
+But Virginie revived the joking with "My Little Drop of Brandy." She
+imitated a camp follower, with one hand on her hip, the elbow arched
+to indicate the little barrel; and with the other hand she poured out
+the brandy into space by turning her fist round. She did it so well
+that the party then begged mother Coupeau to sing "The Mouse." The old
+woman refused, vowing that she did not know that naughty song. Yet she
+started off with the remnants of her broken voice; and her wrinkled
+face with its lively little eyes underlined the allusions, the terrors
+of Mademoiselle Lise drawing her skirts around her at the sight of a
+mouse. All the table laughed; the women could not keep their
+countenances, and continued casting bright glances at their neighbors;
+it was not indecent after all, there were no coarse words in it. All
+during the song Boche was playing mouse up and down the legs of the
+lady coal-dealer. Things might have gotten a bit out of line if
+Goujet, in response to a glance from Gervaise, had not brought back
+the respectful silence with "The Farewell of Abdul-Kader," which he
+sang out loudly in his bass voice. The song rang out from his golden
+beard as if from a brass trumpet. All the hearts skipped a beat when
+he cried, "Ah, my noble comrade!" referring to the warrior's black
+mare. They burst into applause even before the end.
+
+"Now, Pere Bru, it's your turn!" said mother Coupeau. "Sing your song.
+The old ones are the best any day!"
+
+And everybody turned towards the old man, pressing him and encouraging
+him. He, in a state of torpor, with his immovable mask of tanned skin,
+looked at them without appearing to understand. They asked him if he
+knew the "Five Vowels." He held down his head; he could not recollect
+it; all the songs of the good old days were mixed up in his head. As
+they made up their minds to leave him alone, he seemed to remember,
+and began to stutter in a cavernous voice:
+
+  "Trou la la, trou la la,
+   Trou la, trou la, trou la la!"
+
+His face assumed an animated expression, this chorus seemed to awake
+some far-off gaieties within him, enjoyed by himself alone, as he
+listened with a childish delight to his voice which became more and
+more hollow.
+
+"Say there, my dear," Virginie came and whispered in Gervaise's ear,
+"I've just been there again, you know. It worried me. Well! Lantier
+has disappeared from Francois's."
+
+"You didn't meet him outside?" asked the laundress.
+
+"No, I walked quickly, not as if I was looking for him."
+
+But Virginie raised her eyes, interrupted herself and heaved a
+smothered sigh.
+
+"Ah! /Mon Dieu!/ He's there, on the pavement opposite; he's looking
+this way."
+
+Gervaise, quite beside herself, ventured to glance in the direction
+indicated. Some persons had collected in the street to hear the party
+sing. And Lantier was indeed there in the front row, listening and
+coolly looking on. It was rare cheek, everything considered. Gervaise
+felt a chill ascend from her legs to her heart, and she no longer
+dared to move, whilst old Bru continued:
+
+  "Trou la la, trou la la,
+   Trou la, trou la, trou la la!"
+
+"Very good. Thank you, my ancient one, that's enough!" said Coupeau.
+"Do you know the whole of it? You shall sing it for us another day
+when we need something sad."
+
+This raised a few laughs. The old fellow stopped short, glanced round
+the table with his pale eyes and resumed his look of a meditative
+animal. Coupeau called for more wine as the coffee was finished.
+Clemence was eating strawberries again. With the pause in singing,
+they began to talk about a woman who had been found hanging that
+morning in the building next door. It was Madame Lerat's turn, but she
+required to prepare herself. She dipped the corner of her napkin into
+a glass of water and applied it to her temples because she was too
+hot. Then, she asked for a thimbleful of brandy, drank it, and slowly
+wiped her lips.
+
+"The 'Child of God,' shall it be?" she murmured, "the 'Child of God.'"
+
+And, tall and masculine-looking, with her bony nose and her shoulders
+as square as a grenadier's she began:
+
+  "The lost child left by its mother alone
+   Is sure of a home in Heaven above,
+   God sees and protects it on earth from His throne,
+   The child that is lost is the child of God's love."
+
+Her voice trembled at certain words, and dwelt on them in liquid
+notes; she looked out of the corner of her eyes to heaven, whilst her
+right hand swung before her chest or pressed against her heart with an
+impressive gesture. Then Gervaise, tortured by Lantier's presence,
+could not restrain her tears; it seemed to her that the song was
+relating her own suffering, that she was the lost child, abandoned by
+its mother, and whom God was going to take under his protection.
+Clemence was now very drunk and she burst into loud sobbing and placed
+her head down onto the table in an effort to smother her gasps. There
+was a hush vibrant with emotion.
+
+The ladies had pulled out their handkerchiefs, and were drying their
+eyes, with their heads erect from pride. The men had bowed their heads
+and were staring straight before them, blinking back their tears.
+Poisson bit off the end of his pipe twice while gulping and gasping.
+Boche, with two large tears trickling down his face, wasn't even
+bothering to squeeze the coal-dealer's knee any longer. All these
+drunk revelers were as soft-hearted as lambs. Wasn't the wine almost
+coming out of their eyes? When the refrain began again, they all let
+themselves go, blubbering into their plates.
+
+But Gervaise and Virginie could not, in spite of themselves, take
+their eyes off the pavement opposite. Madame Boche, in her turn,
+caught sight of Lantier and uttered a faint cry without ceasing to
+besmear her face with her tears. Then all three had very anxious faces
+as they exchanged involuntary signs. /Mon Dieu!/ if Coupeau were to
+turn round, if Coupeau caught sight of the other! What a butchery!
+What carnage! And they went on to such an extent that the zinc-worker
+asked them:
+
+"Whatever are you looking at?"
+
+He leant forward and recognized Lantier.
+
+"Damnation! It's too much," muttered he. "Ah! the dirty scoundrel--ah!
+the dirty scoundrel. No, it's too much, it must come to an end."
+
+And as he rose from his seat muttering most atrocious threats,
+Gervaise, in a low voice, implored him to keep quiet.
+
+"Listen to me, I implore you. Leave the knife alone. Remain where you
+are, don't do anything dreadful."
+
+Virginie had to take the knife which he had picked up off the table
+from him. But she could not prevent him leaving the shop and going up
+to Lantier.
+
+Those around the table saw nothing of this, so involved were they in
+weeping over the song as Madame Lerat sang the last verse. It sounded
+like a moaning wail of the wind and Madame Putois was so moved that
+she spilled her wine over the table. Gervaise remained frozen with
+fright, one hand tight against her lips to stifle her sobs. She
+expected at any moment to see one of the two men fall unconscious in
+the street.
+
+As Coupeau rushed toward Lantier, he was so astonished by the fresh
+air that he staggered, and Lantier, with his hands in his pockets,
+merely took a step to the side. Now the two men were almost shouting
+at each other, Coupeau calling the other a lousy pig and threatening
+to make sausage of his guts. They were shouting loudly and angrily and
+waving their arms violently. Gervaise felt faint and as it continued
+for a while, she closed her eyes. Suddenly, she didn't hear any
+shouting and opened her eyes. The two men were chatting amiably
+together.
+
+Madame Lerat's voice rose higher and higher, warbling another verse.
+
+Gervaise exchanged a glance with Madame Boche and Virginie. Was it
+going to end amicably then? Coupeau and Lantier continued to converse
+on the edge of the pavement. They were still abusing each other, but
+in a friendly way. As people were staring at them, they ended by
+strolling leisurely side by side past the houses, turning round again
+every ten yards or so. A very animated conversation was now taking
+place. Suddenly Coupeau appeared to become angry again, whilst the
+other was refusing something and required to be pressed. And it was
+the zinc-worker who pushed Lantier along and who forced him to cross
+the street and enter the shop.
+
+"I tell you, you're quite welcome!" shouted he. "You'll take a glass
+of wine. Men are men, you know. We ought to understand each other."
+
+Madame Lerat was finishing the last chorus. The ladies were singing
+all together as they twisted their handkerchiefs.
+
+  "The child that is lost is the child of God's love."
+
+The singer was greatly complimented and she resumed her seat affecting
+to be quite broken down. She asked for something to drink because she
+always put too much feeling into that song and she was constantly
+afraid of straining her vocal chords. Everyone at the table now had
+their eyes fixed on Lantier who, quietly seated beside Coupeau, was
+devouring the last piece of Savoy cake which he dipped in his glass of
+wine. With the exception of Virginie and Madame Boche none of the
+guests knew him. The Lorilleuxs certainly scented some underhand
+business, but not knowing what, they merely assumed their most
+conceited air. Goujet, who had noticed Gervaise's emotion, gave the
+newcomer a sour look. As an awkward pause ensued Coupeau simply said:
+
+"A friend of mine."
+
+And turning to his wife, added:
+
+"Come, stir yourself! Perhaps there's still some hot coffee left."
+
+Gervaise, feeling meek and stupid, looked at them one after the other.
+At first, when her husband pushed her old lover into the shop, she
+buried her head between her hands, the same as she instinctively did
+on stormy days at each clap of thunder. She could not believe it
+possible; the walls would fall in and crush them all. Then, when she
+saw the two sitting together peacefully, she suddenly accepted it as
+quite natural. A happy feeling of languor benumbed her, retained her
+all in a heap at the edge of the table, with the sole desire of not
+being bothered. /Mon Dieu!/ what is the use of putting oneself out
+when others do not, and when things arrange themselves to the
+satisfaction of everybody? She got up to see if there was any coffee
+left.
+
+In the back-room the children had fallen asleep. That squint-eyed
+Augustine had tyrannized over them all during the dessert, pilfering
+their strawberries and frightening them with the most abominable
+threats. Now she felt very ill, and was bent double upon a stool, not
+uttering a word, her face ghastly pale. Fat Pauline had let her head
+fall against Etienne's shoulder, and he himself was sleeping on the
+edge of the table. Nana was seated with Victor on the rug beside the
+bedstead, she had passed her arm round his neck and was drawing him
+towards her; and, succumbing to drowsiness and with her eyes shut, she
+kept repeating in a feeble voice:
+
+"Oh! Mamma, I'm not well; oh! mamma, I'm not well."
+
+"No wonder!" murmured Augustine, whose head was rolling about on her
+shoulders, "they're drunk; they've been singing like grown up
+persons."
+
+Gervaise received another blow on beholding Etienne. She felt as
+though she would choke when she thought of the youngster's father
+being there in the other room, eating cake, and that he had not even
+expressed a desire to kiss the little fellow. She was on the point of
+rousing Etienne and of carrying him there in her arms. Then she again
+felt that the quiet way in which matters had been arranged was the
+best. It would not have been proper to have disturbed the harmony of
+the end of the dinner. She returned with the coffee-pot and poured out
+a glass of coffee for Lantier, who, by the way, did not appear to take
+any notice of her.
+
+"Now, it's my turn," stuttered Coupeau, in a thick voice. "You've been
+keeping the best for the last. Well! I'll sing you 'That Piggish
+Child.'"
+
+"Yes, yes, 'That Piggish Child,'" cried everyone.
+
+The uproar was beginning again. Lantier was forgotten. The ladies
+prepared their glasses and their knives for accompanying the chorus.
+They laughed beforehand, as they looked at the zinc-worker, who
+steadied himself on his legs as he put on his most vulgar air.
+Mimicking the hoarse voice of an old woman, he sang:
+
+  "When out of bed each morn I hop,
+   I'm always precious queer;
+   I send him for a little drop
+   To the drinking-ken that's near.
+   A good half hour or more he'll stay,
+   And that makes me so riled,
+   He swigs it half upon his way:
+   What a piggish child!"
+
+And the ladies, striking their glasses, repeated in chorus in the
+midst of a formidable gaiety:
+
+  "What a piggish child!
+   What a piggish child!"
+
+Even the Rue de la Goutte-d'Or itself joined in now. The whole
+neighborhood was singing "What a piggish child!" The little
+clockmaker, the grocery clerks, the tripe woman and the fruit woman
+all knew the song and joined in the chorus. The entire street seemed
+to be getting drunk on the odors from the Coupeau party. In the
+reddish haze from the two lamps, the noise of the party was enough to
+shut out the rumbling of the last vehicles in the street. Two
+policemen rushed over, thinking there was a riot, but on recognizing
+Poisson, they saluted him smartly and went away between the darkened
+buildings.
+
+Coupeau was now singing this verse:
+
+  "On Sundays at Petite Villette,
+   Whene'er the weather's fine,
+   We call on uncle, old Tinette,
+   Who's in the dustman line.
+   To feast upon some cherry stones
+   The young un's almost wild,
+   And rolls amongst the dust and bones,
+   What a piggish child!
+   What a piggish child!"
+
+Then the house almost collapsed, such a yell ascended in the calm warm
+night air that the shouters applauded themselves, for it was useless
+their hoping to be able to bawl any louder.
+
+Not one of the party could ever recollect exactly how the carouse
+terminated. It must have been very late, it's quite certain, for not a
+cat was to be seen in the street. Possibly too, they had all joined
+hands and danced round the table. But all was submerged in a yellow
+mist, in which red faces were jumping about, with mouths slit from ear
+to ear. They had probably treated themselves to something stronger
+than wine towards the end, and there was a vague suspicion that some
+one had played them the trick of putting salt into the glasses. The
+children must have undressed and put themselves to bed. On the morrow,
+Madame Boche boasted of having treated Boche to a couple of clouts in
+a corner, where he was conversing a great deal too close to the
+charcoal-dealer; but Boche, who recollected nothing, said she must
+have dreamt it. Everyone agreed that it wasn't very decent the way
+Clemence had carried on. She had ended by showing everything she had
+and then been so sick that she had completely ruined one of the muslin
+curtains. The men had at least the decency to go into the street;
+Lorilleux and Poisson, feeling their stomachs upset, had stumblingly
+glided as far as the pork-butcher's shop. It is easy to see when a
+person has been well brought up. For instance, the ladies, Madame
+Putois, Madame Lerat, and Virginie, indisposed by the heat, had simply
+gone into the back-room and taken their stays off; Virginie had even
+desired to lie on the bed for a minute, just to obviate any unpleasant
+effects. Thus the party had seemed to melt away, some disappearing
+behind the others, all accompanying one another, and being lost sight
+of in the surrounding darkness, to the accompaniment of a final
+uproar, a furious quarrel between the Lorilleuxs, and an obstinate and
+mournful "trou la la, trou la la," of old Bru's. Gervaise had an idea
+that Goujet had burst out sobbing when bidding her good-bye; Coupeau
+was still singing; and as for Lantier, he must have remained till the
+end. At one moment even, she could still feel a breath against her
+hair, but she was unable to say whether it came from Lantier or if it
+was the warm night air.
+
+Since Madame Lerat didn't want to return to Les Batignolles at such a
+late hour, they took one of the mattresses off the bed and spread it
+for her in a corner of the shop, after pushing back the table. She
+slept right there amid all the dinner crumbs. All night long, while
+the Coupeaus were sleeping, a neighbor's cat took advantage of an open
+window and was crunching the bones of the goose with its sharp teeth,
+giving the bird its final resting place.
+
+
+
+                             CHAPTER VIII
+
+On the following Saturday Coupeau, who had not come home to dinner,
+brought Lantier with him towards ten o'clock. They had had some
+sheep's trotters at Chez Thomas at Montmartre.
+
+"You mustn't scold, wife," said the zinc-worker. "We're sober, as you
+can see. Oh! there's no fear with him; he keeps one on the straight
+road."
+
+And he related how they happened to meet in the Rue Rochechouart.
+After dinner Lantier had declined to have a drink at the "Black Ball,"
+saying that when one was married to a pretty and worthy little woman,
+one ought not to go liquoring-up at all the wineshops. Gervaise
+smiled slightly as she listened. Oh! she was not thinking of scolding,
+she felt too much embarrassed for that. She had been expecting to see
+her former lover again some day ever since their dinner party; but at
+such an hour, when she was about to go to bed, the unexpected arrival
+of the two men had startled her. Her hands were quivering as she
+pinned back the hair which had slid down her neck.
+
+"You know," resumed Coupeau, "as he was so polite as to decline a
+drink outside, you must treat us to one here. Ah! you certainly owe us
+that!"
+
+The workwomen had left long ago. Mother Coupeau and Nana had just gone
+to bed. Gervaise, who had been just about to put up the shutters when
+they appeared, left the shop open and brought some glasses which she
+placed on a corner of the work-table with what was left of a bottle of
+brandy.
+
+Lantier remained standing and avoided speaking directly to her.
+However, when she served him, he exclaimed:
+
+"Only a thimbleful, madame, if you please."
+
+Coupeau looked at them and then spoke his mind very plainly. They were
+not going to behave like a couple of geese he hoped! The past was past
+was it not? If people nursed grudges for nine and ten years together
+one would end by no longer seeing anybody. No, no, he carried his
+heart in his hand, he did! First of all, he knew who he had to deal
+with, a worthy woman and a worthy man--in short two friends! He felt
+easy; he knew he could depend upon them.
+
+"Oh! that's certain, quite certain," repeated Gervaise, looking on the
+ground and scarcely understanding what she said.
+
+"She is a sister now--nothing but a sister!" murmured Lantier in his
+turn.
+
+"/Mon Dieu!/ shake hands," cried Coupeau, "and let those who don't
+like it go to blazes! When one has proper feelings one is better off
+than millionaires. For myself I prefer friendship before everything
+because friendship is friendship and there's nothing to beat it."
+
+He dealt himself heavy blows on the chest, and seemed so moved that
+they had to calm him. They all three silently clinked glasses, and
+drank their drop of brandy. Gervaise was then able to look at Lantier
+at her ease; for on the night of her saint's day, she had only seen
+him through a fog. He had grown more stout, his arms and legs seeming
+too heavy because of his small stature. His face was still handsome
+even though it was a little puffy now due to his life of idleness. He
+still took great pains with his narrow moustache. He looked about his
+actual age. He was wearing grey trousers, a heavy blue overcoat, and a
+round hat. He even had a watch with a silver chain on which a ring was
+hanging as a keepsake. He looked quite like a gentleman.
+
+"I'm off," said he. "I live no end of a distance from here."
+
+He was already on the pavement when the zinc-worker called him back to
+make him promise never to pass the door without looking in to wish
+them good day. Meanwhile Gervaise, who had quietly disappeared,
+returned pushing Etienne before her. The child, who was in his shirt-
+sleeves and half asleep, smiled as he rubbed his eyes. But when he
+beheld Lantier he stood trembling and embarrassed, and casting anxious
+glances in the direction of his mother and Coupeau.
+
+"Don't you remember this gentleman?" asked the latter.
+
+The child held down his head without replying. Then he made a slight
+sign which meant that he did remember the gentleman.
+
+"Well! Then, don't stand there like a fool; go and kiss him."
+
+Lantier gravely and quietly waited. When Etienne had made up his mind
+to approach him, he stooped down, presented both his cheeks, and then
+kissed the youngster on the forehead himself. At this the boy ventured
+to look at his father; but all on a sudden he burst out sobbing and
+scampered away like a mad creature with his clothes half falling off
+him, whilst Coupeau angrily called him a young savage.
+
+"The emotion's too much for him," said Gervaise, pale and agitated
+herself.
+
+"Oh! he's generally very gentle and nice," exclaimed Coupeau. "I've
+brought him up properly, as you'll see. He'll get used to you. He must
+learn to know people. We can't stay mad. We should have made up a long
+time ago for his sake. I'd rather have my head cut off than keep a
+father from seeing his own son."
+
+Having thus delivered himself, he talked of finishing the bottle of
+brandy. All three clinked glasses again. Lantier showed no surprise,
+but remained perfectly calm. By way of repaying the zinc-worker's
+politeness he persisted in helping him put up the shutters before
+taking his departure. Then rubbing his hands together to get rid of
+the dust on them, he wished the couple good-night.
+
+"Sleep well. I shall try and catch the last bus. I promise you I'll
+look in again soon."
+
+After that evening Lantier frequently called at the Rue de la Goutte-
+d'Or. He came when the zinc-worker was there, inquiring after his
+health the moment he passed the door and affecting to have solely
+called on his account. Then clean-shaven, his hair nicely combed and
+always wearing his overcoat, he would take a seat by the window and
+converse politely with the manners of an educated man. It was thus
+that the Coupeaus learnt little by little the details of his life.
+During the last eight years he had for a while managed a hat factory;
+and when they asked him why he had retired from it he merely alluded
+to the rascality of a partner, a fellow from his native place, a
+scoundrel who had squandered all the takings with women. His former
+position as an employer continued to affect his entire personality,
+like a title of nobility that he could not abandon. He was always
+talking of concluding a magnificent deal with some hatmakers who were
+going to set him up in business. While waiting for this he did nothing
+but stroll around all day like one of the idle rich. If anyone dared
+to mention a hat factory looking for workers, he smiled and said he
+was not interested in breaking his back working for others.
+
+A smart fellow like Lantier, according to Coupeau, knew how to take
+care of himself. He always looked prosperous and it took money to look
+thus. He must have some deal going. One morning Coupeau had seen him
+having his shoes shined on the Boulevard Montmartre. Lantier was very
+talkative about others, but the truth was that he told lies about
+himself. He would not even say where he lived, only that he was
+staying with a friend and there was no use in coming to see him
+because he was never in.
+
+It was now early November. Lantier would gallantly bring bunches of
+violets for Gervaise and the workwomen. He was now coming almost every
+day. He won the favor of Clemence and Madame Putois with his little
+attentions. At the end of the month they adored him. The Boches, whom
+he flattered by going to pay his respects in their concierge's lodge,
+went into ecstasies over his politeness.
+
+As soon as the Lorilleuxs knew who he was, they howled at the
+impudence of Gervaise in bringing her former lover into her home.
+However, one day Lantier went to visit them and made such a good
+impression when he ordered a necklace for a lady of his acquaintance
+that they invited him to sit down. He stayed an hour and they were so
+charmed by his conversation that they wondered how a man of such
+distinction had ever lived with Clump-Clump. Soon Lantier's visits to
+the Coupeaus were accepted as perfectly natural; he was in the good
+graces of everyone along the Rue de la Goutte-d'Or. Goujet was the
+only one who remained cold. If he happened to be there when Lantier
+arrived, he would leave at once as he didn't want to be obliged to be
+friendly to him.
+
+In the midst, however, of all this extraordinary affection for
+Lantier, Gervaise lived in a state of great agitation for the first
+few weeks. She felt that burning sensation in the pit of her stomach
+which affected her on the day when Virginie first alluded to her past
+life. Her great fear was that she might find herself without strength,
+if he came upon her all alone one night and took it into his head to
+kiss her. She thought of him too much; she was for ever thinking of
+him. But she gradually became calmer on seeing him behave so well,
+never looking her in the face, never even touching her with the tips
+of his fingers when no one was watching. Then Virginie, who seemed to
+read within her, made her ashamed of all her wicked thoughts. Why did
+she tremble? Once could not hope to come across a nicer man. She
+certainly had nothing to fear now. And one day the tall brunette
+maneuvered in such a way as to get them both into a corner, and to
+turn the conversation to the subject of love. Lantier, choosing his
+words, declared in a grave voice that his heart was dead, that for the
+future he wished to consecrate his life solely for his son's
+happiness. Every evening he would kiss Etienne on the forehead, yet he
+was apt to forget him in teasing back and forth with Clemence. And he
+never mentioned Claude who was still in the south. Gervaise began to
+feel at ease. Lantier's actual presence overshadowed her memories, and
+seeing him all the time, she no longer dreamed about him. She even
+felt a certain repugnance at the thought of their former relationship.
+Yes, it was over. If he dared to approach her, she'd box his ears, or
+even better, she'd tell her husband. Once again her thoughts turned to
+Goujet and his affection for her.
+
+One morning Clemence reported that the previous night, at about eleven
+o'clock, she had seen Monsieur Lantier with a woman. She told about it
+maliciously and in coarse terms to see how Gervaise would react. Yes,
+Monsieur Lantier was on the Rue Notre Dame de Lorette with a blonde
+and she followed them. They had gone into a shop where the worn-out
+and used-up woman had bought some shrimps. Then they went to the Rue
+de La Rochefoucauld. Monsieur Lantier had waited on the pavement in
+front of the house while his lady friend went in alone. Then she had
+beckoned to him from the window to join her.
+
+No matter how Clemence went on with the story Gervaise went on
+peacefully ironing a white dress. Sometimes she smiled faintly. These
+southerners, she said, are all crazy about women; they have to have
+them no matter what, even if they come from a dung heap. When Lantier
+came in that evening, Gervaise was amused when Clemence teased him
+about the blonde. He seemed to feel flattered that he had been seen.
+/Mon Dieu!/ she was just an old friend, he explained. He saw her from
+time to time. She was quite stylish. He mentioned some of her former
+lovers, among them a count, an important merchant and the son of a
+lawyer. He added that a bit of playing around didn't mean a thing, his
+heart was dead. In the end Clemence had to pay a price for her
+meanness. She certainly felt Lantier pinching her hard two or three
+times without seeming to do so. She was also jealous because she
+didn't reek of musk like that boulevard work-horse.
+
+When spring came, Lantier, who was now quite one of the family, talked
+of living in the neighborhood, so as to be nearer his friends. He
+wanted a furnished room in a decent house. Madame Boche, and even
+Gervaise herself went searching about to find it for him. They
+explored the neighboring streets. But he was always too difficult to
+please; he required a big courtyard, a room on the ground floor; in
+fact, every luxury imaginable. And then every evening, at the
+Coupeaus', he seemed to measure the height of the ceilings, study the
+arrangement of the rooms, and covet a similar lodging. Oh, he would
+never have asked for anything better, he would willingly have made
+himself a hole in that warm, quiet corner. Then each time he wound up
+his inspection with these words:
+
+"By Jove! you are comfortably situated here."
+
+One evening, when he had dined there, and was making the same remark
+during the dessert, Coupeau, who now treated him most familiarly,
+suddenly exclaimed:
+
+"You must stay here, old boy, if it suits you. It's easily arranged."
+
+And he explained that the dirty-clothes room, cleaned out, would make
+a nice apartment. Etienne could sleep in the shop, on a mattress on
+the floor, that was all.
+
+"No, no," said Lantier, "I cannot accept. It would inconvenience you
+too much. I know that it's willingly offered, but we should be too
+warm all jumbled up together. Besides, you know, each one likes his
+liberty. I should have to go through your room, and that wouldn't be
+exactly funny."
+
+"Ah, the rogue!" resumed the zinc-worker, choking with laughter,
+banging his fist down on the table, "he's always thinking of something
+smutty! But, you joker, we're of an inventive turn of mind! There're
+two windows in the room, aren't there? Well, we'll knock one out and
+turn it into a door. Then, you understand you come in by way of the
+courtyard, and we can even stop up the other door, if we like. Thus
+you'll be in your home, and we in ours."
+
+A pause ensued. At length the hatter murmured:
+
+"Ah, yes, in that manner perhaps we might. And yet no, I should be too
+much in your way."
+
+He avoided looking at Gervaise. But he was evidently waiting for a
+word from her before accepting. She was very much annoyed at her
+husband's idea; not that the thought of seeing Lantier living with
+them wounded her feelings, or made her particularly uneasy, but she
+was wondering where she would be able to keep the dirty clothes.
+Coupeau was going on about the advantages of the arrangement. Their
+rent, five hundred francs, had always been a bit steep. Their friend
+could pay twenty francs a month for a nicely furnished room and it
+would help them with the rent. He would be responsible for fixing up a
+big box under their bed that would be large enough to hold all the
+dirty clothes. Gervaise still hesitated. She looked toward mother
+Coupeau for guidance. Lantier had won over mother Coupeau months ago
+by bringing her gum drops for her cough.
+
+"You would certainly not be in our way," Gervaise ended by saying. "We
+could so arrange things--"
+
+"No, no, thanks," repeated the hatter. "You're too kind; it would be
+asking too much."
+
+Coupeau could no longer restrain himself. Was he going to continue
+making objections when they told him it was freely offered? He would
+be obliging them. There, did he understand? Then in an excited tone of
+voice he yelled:
+
+"Etienne! Etienne!"
+
+The youngster had fallen asleep on the table. He raised his head with
+a start.
+
+"Listen, tell him that you wish it. Yes, that gentleman there. Tell
+him as loud as you can: 'I wish it!'"
+
+"I wish it!" stuttered Etienne, his voice thick with sleep.
+
+Everyone laughed. But Lantier resumed his grave and impressive air. He
+squeezed Coupeau's hand across the table as he said:
+
+"I accept. It's in all good fellowship on both sides, is it not? Yes,
+I accept for the child's sake."
+
+The next day when the landlord, Monsieur Marescot, came to spend an
+hour with the Boches, Gervaise mentioned the matter to him. He refused
+angrily at first. Then, after a careful inspection of the premises,
+particularly gazing upward to verify that the upper floors would not
+be weakened, he finally granted permission on condition there would be
+no expense to him. He had the Coupeaus sign a paper saying they would
+restore everything to its original state on the expiration of the
+lease.
+
+Coupeau brought in some friends of his that very evening--a mason, a
+carpenter and a painter. They would do this job in the evenings as a
+favor to him. Still, installing the door and cleaning up the room cost
+over one hundred francs, not counting the wine that kept the work
+going. Coupeau told his friends he'd pay them something later, out of
+the rent from his tenant.
+
+Then the furniture for the room had to be sorted out. Gervaise left
+mother Coupeau's wardrobe where it was, and added a table and two
+chairs taken from her own room. She had to buy a washing-stand and a
+bed with mattress and bedclothes, costing one hundred and thirty
+francs, which she was to pay off at ten francs a month. Although
+Lantier's twenty francs would be used to pay off these debts for ten
+months, there would be a nice little profit later.
+
+It was during the early days of June that the hatter moved in. The day
+before, Coupeau had offered to go with him and fetch his box, to save
+him the thirty sous for a cab. But the other became quite embarrassed,
+saying that the box was too heavy, as though he wished up to the last
+moment to hide the place where he lodged. He arrived in the afternoon
+towards three o'clock. Coupeau did not happen to be in. And Gervaise,
+standing at the shop door became quite pale on recognizing the box
+outside the cab. It was their old box, the one with which they had
+journeyed from Plassans, all scratched and broken now and held
+together by cords. She saw it return as she had often dreamt it would
+and it needed no great stretch of imagination to believe that the same
+cab, that cab in which that strumpet of a burnisher had played her
+such a foul trick, had brought the box back again. Meanwhile Boche was
+giving Lantier a helping hand. The laundress followed them in silence
+and feeling rather dazed. When they had deposited their burden in the
+middle of the room she said for the sake of saying something:
+
+"Well! That's a good thing finished, isn't it?"
+
+Then pulling herself together, seeing that Lantier, busy in undoing
+the cords was not even looking at her, she added:
+
+"Monsieur Boche, you must have a drink."
+
+And she went and fetched a quart of wine and some glasses.
+
+Just then Poisson passed along the pavement in uniform. She signaled
+to him, winking her eye and smiling. The policeman understood
+perfectly. When he was on duty and anyone winked their eye to him it
+meant a glass of wine. He would even walk for hours up and down before
+the laundry waiting for a wink. Then so as not to be seen, he would
+pass through the courtyard and toss off the liquor in secret.
+
+"Ah! ah!" said Lantier when he saw him enter, "it's you, Badingue."
+
+He called him Badingue for a joke, just to show how little he cared
+for the Emperor. Poisson put up with it in his stiff way without one
+knowing whether it really annoyed him or not. Besides the two men,
+though separated by their political convictions, had become very good
+friends.
+
+"You know that the Emperor was once a policeman in London," said Boche
+in his turn. "Yes, on my word! He used to take the drunken women to
+the station-house."
+
+Gervaise had filled three glasses on the table. She would not drink
+herself, she felt too sick at heart, but she stood there longing to
+see what the box contained and watching Lantier remove the last cords.
+Before raising the lid Lantier took his glass and clinked it with the
+others.
+
+"Good health."
+
+"Same to you," replied Boche and Poisson.
+
+The laundress filled the glasses again. The three men wiped their lips
+on the backs of their hands. And at last the hatter opened the box. It
+was full of a jumble of newspapers, books, old clothes and underlinen,
+in bundles. He took out successively a saucepan, a pair of boots, a
+bust of Ledru-Rollin with the nose broken, an embroidered shirt and a
+pair of working trousers. Gervaise could smell the odor of tobacco and
+that of a man whose linen wasn't too clean, one who took care only of
+the outside, of what people could see.
+
+The old hat was no longer in the left corner. There was a pincushion
+she did not recognize, doubtless a present from some woman. She became
+calmer, but felt a vague sadness as she continued to watch the objects
+that appeared, wondering if they were from her time or from the time
+of others.
+
+"I say, Badingue, do you know this?" resumed Lantier.
+
+He thrust under his nose a little book printed at Brussels. "The
+Amours of Napoleon III." Illustrated with engravings. It related,
+among other anecdotes, how the Emperor had seduced a girl of thirteen,
+the daughter of a cook; and the picture represented Napoleon III.,
+bare-legged, and also wearing the grand ribbon of the Legion of Honor,
+pursuing a little girl who was trying to escape his lust.
+
+"Ah! that's it exactly!" exclaimed Boche, whose slyly ridiculous
+instincts felt flattered by the sight. "It always happens like that!"
+
+Poisson was seized with consternation, and he could not find a word to
+say in the Emperor's defense. It was in a book, so he could not deny
+it. Then, Lantier, continuing to push the picture under his nose in a
+jeering way, he extended his arms and exclaimed:
+
+"Well, so what?"
+
+Lantier didn't reply, He busied himself arranging his books and
+newspapers on a shelf in the wardrobe. He seemed upset not to have a
+small bookshelf over his table, so Gervaise promised to get him one.
+He had "The History of Ten Years" by Louis Blanc (except for the first
+volume), Lamartine's "The Girondins" in installments, "The Mysteries
+of Paris" and "The Wandering Jew" by Eugene Sue, and a quantity of
+booklets on philosophic and humanitarian subjects picked up from used
+book dealers.
+
+His newspapers were his prized possessions, a collection made over a
+number of years. Whenever he read an article in a cafe that seemed to
+him to agree with his own ideas, he would buy that newspaper and keep
+it. He had an enormous bundle of them, papers of every date and every
+title, piled up in no discernable order. He patted them and said to
+the other two:
+
+"You see that? No one else can boast of having anything to match it.
+You can't imagine all that's in there. I mean, if they put into
+practice only half the ideas, it would clean up the social order
+overnight. That would be good medicine for your Emperor and all his
+stool pigeons."
+
+The policeman's red mustache and beard began to bristle on his pale
+face and he interrupted:
+
+"And the army, tell me, what are you going to do about that?"
+
+Lantier flew into a passion. He banged his fists down on the
+newspapers as he yelled:
+
+"I require the suppression of militarism, the fraternity of peoples. I
+require the abolition of privileges, of titles, and of monopolies. I
+require the equality of salaries, the division of benefits, the
+glorification of the protectorate. All liberties, do you hear? All of
+them! And divorce!"
+
+"Yes, yes, divorce for morality!" insisted Boche.
+
+Poisson had assumed a majestic air.
+
+"Yet if I won't have your liberties, I'm free to refuse them," he
+answered.
+
+Lantier was choking with passion.
+
+"If you don't want them--if you don't want them--" he replied. "No,
+you're not free at all! If you don't want them, I'll send you off to
+Devil's Island. Yes, Devil's Island with your Emperor and all the rats
+of his crew."
+
+They always quarreled thus every time they met. Gervaise, who did not
+like arguments, usually interfered. She roused herself from the torpor
+into which the sight of the box, full of the stale perfume of her past
+love, had plunged her, and she drew the three men's attention to the
+glasses.
+
+"Ah! yes," said Lantier, becoming suddenly calm and taking his glass.
+"Good health!"
+
+"Good health!" replied Boche and Poisson, clinking glasses with him.
+
+Boche, however, was moving nervously about, troubled by an anxiety as
+he looked at the policeman out of the corner of his eye.
+
+"All this between ourselves, eh, Monsieur Poisson?" murmured he at
+length. "We say and show you things to show off."
+
+But Poisson did not let him finish. He placed his hand upon his heart,
+as though to explain that all remained buried there. He certainly did
+not go spying about on his friends. Coupeau arriving, they emptied a
+second quart. Then the policeman went off by way of the courtyard and
+resumed his stiff and measured tread along the pavement.
+
+At the beginning of the new arrangement, the entire routine of the
+establishment was considerably upset. Lantier had his own separate
+room, with his own entrance and his own key. However, since they had
+decided not to close off the door between the rooms, he usually came
+and went through the shop. Besides, the dirty clothes were an
+inconvenience to Gervaise because her husband never made the case he
+had promised and she had to tuck the dirty laundry into any odd corner
+she could find. They usually ended up under the bed and this was not
+very pleasant on warm summer nights. She also found it a nuisance
+having to make up Etienne's bed every evening in the shop. When her
+employees worked late, the lad had to sleep in a chair until they
+finished.
+
+Goujet had mentioned sending Etienne to Lille where a machinist he
+knew was looking for apprentices. As the boy was unhappy at home and
+eager to be out on his own, Gervaise seriously considered the
+proposal. Her only fear was that Lantier would refuse. Since he had
+come to live with them solely to be near his son, surely he wouldn't
+want to lose him only two weeks after he moved in. However he approved
+whole-heartedly when she timidly broached the matter to him. He said
+that young men needed to see a bit of the country. The morning that
+Etienne left Lantier made a speech to him, kissed him and ended by
+saying:
+
+"Never forget that a workingman is not a slave, and that whoever is
+not a workingman is a lazy drone."
+
+The household was now able to get into the new routine. Gervaise
+became accustomed to having dirty laundry lying all around. Lantier
+was forever talking of important business deals. Sometimes he went
+out, wearing fresh linen and neatly combed. He would stay out all
+night and on his return pretend that he was completely exhausted
+because he had been discussing very serious matters. Actually he was
+merely taking life easy. He usually slept until ten. In the afternoons
+he would take a walk if the weather was nice. If it was raining, he
+would sit in the shop reading his newspaper. This atmosphere suited
+him. He always felt at his ease with women and enjoyed listening to
+them.
+
+Lantier first took his meals at Francois's, at the corner of the Rue
+des Poissonniers. But of the seven days in the week he dined with the
+Coupeaus on three or four; so much so that he ended by offering to
+board with them and to pay them fifteen francs every Saturday. From
+that time he scarcely ever left the house, but made himself completely
+at home there. Morning to night he was in the shop, even giving orders
+and attending to customers.
+
+Lantier didn't like the wine from Francois's, so he persuaded Gervaise
+to buy her wine from Vigouroux, the coal-dealer. Then he decided that
+Coudeloup's bread was not baked to his satisfaction, so he sent
+Augustine to the Viennese bakery on the Faubourg Poissonniers for
+their bread. He changed from the grocer Lehongre but kept the butcher,
+fat Charles, because of his political opinions. After a month he
+wanted all the cooking done with olive oil. Clemence joked that with a
+Provencal like him you could never wash out the oil stains. He wanted
+his omelets fried on both sides, as hard as pancakes. He supervised
+mother Coupeau's cooking, wanting his steaks cooked like shoe leather
+and with garlic on everything. He got angry if she put herbs in the
+salad.
+
+"They're just weeds and some of them might be poisonous," he declared.
+His favorite soup was made with over-boiled vermicelli. He would pour
+in half a bottle of olive oil. Only he and Gervaise could eat this
+soup, the others being too used to Parisian cooking.
+
+Little by little Lantier also came to mixing himself up in the affairs
+of the family. As the Lorilleuxs always grumbled at having to part
+with the five francs for mother Coupeau, he explained that an action
+could be brought against them. They must think that they had a set of
+fools to deal with! It was ten francs a month which they ought to
+give! And he would go up himself for the ten francs so boldly and yet
+so amiably that the chainmaker never dared refuse them. Madame Lerat
+also gave two five-franc pieces now. Mother Coupeau could have kissed
+Lantier's hands. He was, moreover, the grand arbiter in all the
+quarrels between the old woman and Gervaise. Whenever the laundress,
+in a moment of impatience, behaved roughly to her mother-in-law and
+the latter went and cried on her bed, he hustled them about and made
+them kiss each other, asking them if they thought themselves amusing
+with their bad tempers.
+
+And Nana, too; she was being brought up badly, according to his idea.
+In that he was right, for whenever the father spanked the child, the
+mother took her part, and if the mother, in her turn, boxed her ears,
+the father made a disturbance. Nana delighted at seeing her parents
+abuse each other, and knowing that she was forgiven beforehand, was up
+to all kinds of tricks. Her latest mania was to go and play in the
+blacksmith shop opposite; she would pass the entire day swinging on
+the shafts of the carts; she would hide with bands of urchins in the
+remotest corners of the gray courtyard, lighted up with the red glare
+of the forge; and suddenly she would reappear, running and shouting,
+unkempt and dirty and followed by the troop of urchins, as though a
+sudden clash of the hammers had frightened the ragamuffins away.
+Lantier alone could scold her; and yet she knew perfectly well how to
+get over him. This tricky little girl of ten would walk before him
+like a lady, swinging herself about and casting side glances at him,
+her eyes already full of vice. He had ended by undertaking her
+education: he taught her to dance and to talk patois.
+
+A year passed thus. In the neighborhood it was thought that Lantier
+had a private income, for this was the only way to account for the
+Coupeaus' grand style of living. No doubt Gervaise continued to earn
+money; but now that she had to support two men in doing nothing, the
+shop certainly could not suffice; more especially as the shop no
+longer had so good a reputation, customers were leaving and the
+workwomen were tippling from morning till night. The truth was that
+Lantier paid nothing, neither for rent nor board. During the first
+months he had paid sums on account, then he had contented himself with
+speaking of a large amount he was going to receive, with which later
+on he would pay off everything in a lump sum. Gervaise no longer dared
+ask him for a centime. She had the bread, the wine, the meat, all on
+credit. The bills increased everywhere at the rate of three and four
+francs a day. She had not paid a sou to the furniture dealer nor to
+the three comrades, the mason, the carpenter and the painter. All
+these people commenced to grumble, and she was no longer greeted with
+the same politeness at the shops.
+
+She was as though intoxicated by a mania for getting into debt; she
+tried to drown her thoughts, ordered the most expensive things, and
+gave full freedom to her gluttony now that she no longer paid for
+anything; she remained withal very honest at heart, dreaming of
+earning from morning to night hundreds of francs, though she did not
+exactly know how, to enable her to distribute handfuls of five-franc
+pieces to her tradespeople. In short, she was sinking, and as she sank
+lower and lower she talked of extending her business. Instead she went
+deeper into debt. Clemence left around the middle of the summer
+because there was no longer enough work for two women and she had not
+been paid in several weeks.
+
+During this impending ruin, Coupeau and Lantier were, in effect,
+devouring the shop and growing fat on the ruin of the establishment.
+At table they would challenge each other to take more helpings and
+slap their rounded stomachs to make more room for dessert.
+
+The great subject of conversation in the neighborhood was as to
+whether Lantier had really gone back to his old footing with Gervaise.
+On this point opinions were divided. According to the Lorilleuxs,
+Clump-Clump was doing everything she could to hook Lantier again, but
+he would no longer have anything to do with her because she was
+getting old and faded and he had plenty of younger girls that were
+prettier. On the other hand, according to the Boches, Gervaise had
+gone back to her former mate the very first night, just as soon as
+poor Coupeau had gone to sleep. The picture was not pretty, but there
+were a lot of worse things in life, so folks ended by accepting the
+threesome as altogether natural. In fact, they thought them rather
+nice since there were never any fights and the outward decencies
+remained. Certainly if you stuck your nose into some of the other
+neighborhood households you could smell far worse things. So what if
+they slept together like a nice little family. It never kept the
+neighbors awake. Besides, everyone was still very much impressed by
+Lantier's good manners. His charm helped greatly to keep tongues from
+wagging. Indeed, when the fruit dealer insisted to the tripe seller
+that there had been no intimacies, the latter appeared to feel that
+this was really too bad, because it made the Coupeaus less
+interesting.
+
+Gervaise was quite at her ease in this matter, and not much troubled
+with these thoughts. Things reached the point that she was accused of
+being heartless. The family did not understand why she continued to
+bear a grudge against the hatter. Madame Lerat now came over every
+evening. She considered Lantier as utterly irresistible and said that
+most ladies would be happy to fall into his arms. Madame Boche
+declared that her own virtue would not be safe if she were ten years
+younger. There was a sort of silent conspiracy to push Gervaise into
+the arms of Lantier, as if all the women around her felt driven to
+satisfy their own longings by giving her a lover. Gervaise didn't
+understand this because she no longer found Lantier seductive.
+Certainly he had changed for the better. He had gotten a sort of
+education in the cafes and political meetings but she knew him well.
+She could pierce to the depths of his soul and she found things there
+that still gave her the shivers. Well, if the others found him so
+attractive, why didn't they try it themselves. In the end she
+suggested this one day to Virginie who seemed the most eager. Then, to
+excite Gervaise, Madame Lerat and Virginie told her of the love of
+Lantier and tall Clemence. Yes, she had not noticed anything herself;
+but as soon as she went out on an errand, the hatter would bring the
+workgirl into his room. Now people met them out together; he probably
+went to see her at her own place.
+
+"Well," said the laundress, her voice trembling slightly, "what can it
+matter to me?"
+
+She looked straight into Virginie's eyes. Did this woman still have it
+in for her?
+
+Virginie replied with an air of innocence:
+
+"It can't matter to you, of course. Only, you ought to advise him to
+break off with that girl, who is sure to cause him some
+unpleasantness."
+
+The worst of it was that Lantier, feeling himself supported by public
+opinion, changed altogether in his behavior towards Gervaise. Now,
+whenever he shook hands with her, he held her fingers for a minute
+between his own. He tried her with his glance, fixing a bold look upon
+her, in which she clearly read that he wanted her. If he passed behind
+her, he dug his knees into her skirt, or breathed upon her neck. Yet
+he waited a while before being rough and openly declaring himself. But
+one evening, finding himself alone with her, he pushed her before him
+without a word, and viewed her all trembling against the wall at the
+back of the shop, and tried to kiss her. It so chanced that Goujet
+entered just at that moment. Then she struggled and escaped. And all
+three exchanged a few words, as though nothing had happened. Goujet,
+his face deadly pale, looked on the ground, fancying that he had
+disturbed them, and that she had merely struggled so as not to be
+kissed before a third party.
+
+The next day Gervaise moved restlessly about the shop. She was
+miserable and unable to iron even a single handkerchief. She only
+wanted to see Goujet and explain to him how Lantier happened to have
+pinned her against the wall. But since Etienne had gone to Lille, she
+had hesitated to visit Goujet's forge where she felt she would be
+greeted by his fellow workers with secret laughter. This afternoon,
+however, she yielded to the impulse. She took an empty basket and went
+out under the pretext of going for the petticoats of her customer on
+Rue des Portes-Blanches. Then, when she reached Rue Marcadet, she
+walked very slowly in front of the bolt factory, hoping for a lucky
+meeting. Goujet must have been hoping to see her, too, for within five
+minutes he came out as if by chance.
+
+"You have been on an errand," he said, smiling. "And now you are on
+your way home."
+
+Actually Gervaise had her back toward Rue des Poissonniers. He only
+said that for something to say. They walked together up toward
+Montmartre, but without her taking his arm. They wanted to get a bit
+away from the factory so as not to seem to be having a rendezvous in
+front of it. They turned into a vacant lot between a sawmill and a
+button factory. It was like a small green meadow. There was even a
+goat tied to a stake.
+
+"It's strange," remarked Gervaise. "You'd think you were in the
+country."
+
+The went to sit under a dead tree. Gervaise placed the laundry basket
+by her feet.
+
+"Yes," Gervaise said, "I had an errand to do, and so I came out."
+
+She felt deeply ashamed and was afraid to try to explain. Yet she
+realized that they had come here to discuss it. It remained a
+troublesome burden.
+
+Then, all in a rush, with tears in her eyes, she told him of the death
+that morning of Madame Bijard, her washerwoman. She had suffered
+horrible agonies.
+
+"Her husband caused it by kicking her in the stomach," she said in a
+monotone. "He must have damaged her insides. /Mon Dieu!/ She was in
+agony for three days with her stomach all swelled up. Plenty of
+scoundrels have been sent to the galleys for less than that, but the
+courts won't concern themselves with a wife-beater. Especially since
+the woman said she had hurt herself falling. She wanted to save him
+from the scaffold, but she screamed all night long before she died."
+
+Goujet clenched his hands and remained silent.
+
+"She weaned her youngest only two weeks ago, little Jules," Gervaise
+went on. "That's lucky for the baby, he won't have to suffer. Still,
+there's the child Lalie and she has two babies to look after. She
+isn't eight yet, but she's already sensible. Her father will beat her
+now even more than before."
+
+Goujet gazed at her silently. Then, his lips trembling:
+
+"You hurt me yesterday, yes, you hurt me badly."
+
+Gervaise turned pale and clasped her hands as he continued.
+
+"I thought it would happen. You should have told me, you should have
+trusted me enough to confess what was happening, so as not to leave me
+thinking that--"
+
+Goujet could not finish the sentence. Gervaise stood up, realizing
+that he thought she had gone back with Lantier as the neighbors
+asserted. Stretching her arms toward him, she cried:
+
+"No, no, I swear to you. He was pushing against me, trying to kiss me,
+but his face never even touched mine. It's true, and that was the
+first time he tried. Oh, I swear on my life, on the life of my
+children, oh, believe me!"
+
+Goujet was shaking his head. Gervaise said slowly:
+
+"Monsieur Goujet, you know me well. You know that I do not lie. On my
+word of honor, it never happened, and it never will, do you
+understand? Never! I'd be the lowest of the low if it ever happened,
+and I wouldn't deserve the friendship of an honest man like you."
+
+She seemed so sincere that he took her hand and made her sit down
+again. He could breathe freely; his heart rejoiced. This was the first
+time he had ever held her hand like this. He pressed it in his own and
+they both sat quietly for a time.
+
+"I know your mother doesn't like me," Gervaise said in a low voice.
+"Don't bother to deny it. We owe you so much money."
+
+He squeezed her hand tightly. He didn't want to talk of money. Finally
+he said:
+
+"I've been thinking of something for a long time. You are not happy
+where you are. My mother tells me things are getting worse for you.
+Well, then, we can go away together."
+
+She didn't understand at first and stared at him, startled by this
+sudden declaration of a love that he had never mentioned.
+
+Finally she asked:
+
+"What do you mean?"
+
+"We'll get away from here," he said, looking down at the ground.
+"We'll go live somewhere else, in Belgium, if you wish. With both of
+us working, we would soon be very comfortable."
+
+Gervaise flushed. She thought she would have felt less shame if he had
+taken her in his arms and kissed her. Goujet was an odd fellow,
+proposing to elope, just the way it happens in novels. Well, she had
+seen plenty of workingmen making up to married women, but they never
+took them even as far as Saint-Denis.
+
+"Ah, Monsieur Goujet," she murmured, not knowing what else to say.
+
+"Don't you see?" he said. "There would only be the two of us. It
+annoys me having others around."
+
+Having regained her self-possession, however, she refused his
+proposal.
+
+"It's impossible, Monsieur Goujet. It would be very wrong. I'm a
+married woman and I have children. We'd soon regret it. I know you
+care for me, and I care for you also, too much to let you do anything
+foolish. It's much better to stay just as we are. We have respect for
+each other and that's a lot. It's been a comfort to me many times.
+When people in our situation stay on the straight, it is better in the
+end."
+
+He nodded his head as he listened. He agreed with her and was unable
+to offer any arguments. Suddenly he pulled her into his arms and
+kissed her, crushing her. Then he let her go and said nothing more
+about their love. She wasn't angry. She felt they had earned that
+small moment of pleasure.
+
+Goujet now didn't know what to do with his hands, so he went around
+picking dandelions and tossing them into her basket. This amused him
+and gradually soothed him. Gervaise was becoming relaxed and cheerful.
+When they finally left the vacant lot they walked side by side and
+talked of how much Etienne liked being at Lille. Her basket was full
+of yellow dandelions.
+
+Gervaise, at heart, did not feel as courageous when with Lantier as
+she said. She was, indeed, perfectly resolved not to hear his
+flattery, even with the slightest interest; but she was afraid, if
+ever he should touch her, of her old cowardice, of that feebleness and
+gloominess into which she allowed herself to glide, just to please
+people. Lantier, however, did not avow his affection. He several times
+found himself alone with her and kept quiet. He seemed to think of
+marrying the tripe-seller, a woman of forty-five and very well
+preserved. Gervaise would talk of the tripe-seller in Goujet's
+presence, so as to set his mind at ease. She would say to Virginie and
+Madame Lerat, whenever they were ringing the hatter's praises, that he
+could very well do without her admiration, because all the women of
+the neighborhood were smitten with him.
+
+Coupeau went braying about everywhere that Lantier was a friend and a
+true one. People might jabber about them; he knew what he knew and did
+not care a straw for their gossip, for he had respectability on his
+side. When they all three went out walking on Sundays, he made his
+wife and the hatter walk arm-in-arm before him, just by way of
+swaggering in the street; and he watched the people, quite prepared to
+administer a drubbing if anyone had ventured on the least joke. It was
+true that he regarded Lantier as a bit of a high flyer. He accused him
+of avoiding hard liquor and teased him because he could read and spoke
+like an educated man. Still, he accepted him as a regular comrade.
+They were ideally suited to each other and friendship between men is
+more substantial than love for a woman.
+
+Coupeau and Lantier were forever going out junketing together. Lantier
+would now borrow money from Gervaise--ten francs, twenty francs at a
+time, whenever he smelt there was money in the house. Then on those
+days he would keep Coupeau away from his work, talk of some distant
+errand and take him with him. Then seated opposite to each other in
+the corner of some neighboring eating house, they would guzzle fancy
+dishes which one cannot get at home and wash them down with bottles of
+expensive wine. The zinc-worker would have preferred to booze in a
+less pretentious place, but he was impressed by the aristocratic
+tastes of Lantier, who would discover on the bill of fare dishes with
+the most extraordinary names.
+
+It was hard to understand a man so hard to please. Maybe it was from
+being a southerner. Lantier didn't like anything too rich and argued
+about every dish, sending back meat that was too salty or too peppery.
+He hated drafts. If a door was left open, he complained loudly. At the
+same time, he was very stingy, only giving the waiter a tip of two
+sous for a meal of seven or eight francs. He was treated with respect
+in spite of that.
+
+The pair were well known along the exterior boulevards, from
+Batignolles to Belleville. They would go to the Grand Rue des
+Batignolles to eat tripe cooked in the Caen style. At the foot of
+Montmartre they obtained the best oysters in the neighborhood at the
+"Town of Bar-le-Duc." When they ventured to the top of the height as
+far as the "Galette Windmill" they had a stewed rabbit. The "Lilacs,"
+in the Rue des Martyrs, had a reputation for their calf's head, whilst
+the restaurant of the "Golden Lion" and the "Two Chestnut Trees," in
+the Chaussee Clignancourt, served them stewed kidneys which made them
+lick their lips. Usually they went toward Belleville where they had
+tables reserved for them at some places of such excellent repute that
+you could order anything with your eyes closed. These eating sprees
+were always surreptitious and the next day they would refer to them
+indirectly while playing with the potatoes served by Gervaise. Once
+Lantier brought a woman with him to the "Galette Windmill" and Coupeau
+left immediately after dessert.
+
+One naturally cannot both guzzle and work; so that ever since the
+hatter was made one of the family, the zinc-worker, who was already
+pretty lazy, had got to the point of never touching a tool. When tired
+of doing nothing, he sometimes let himself be prevailed upon to take a
+job. Then his comrade would look him up and chaff him unmercifully
+when he found him hanging to his knotty cord like a smoked ham, and he
+would call to him to come down and have a glass of wine. And that
+settled it. The zinc-worker would send the job to blazes and commence
+a booze which lasted days and weeks. Oh, it was a famous booze--a
+general review of all the dram shops of the neighborhood, the
+intoxication of the morning slept off by midday and renewed in the
+evening; the goes of "vitriol" succeeded one another, becoming lost in
+the depths of the night, like the Venetian lanterns of an
+illumination, until the last candle disappeared with the last glass!
+That rogue of a hatter never kept on to the end. He let the other get
+elevated, then gave him the slip and returned home smiling in his
+pleasant way. He could drink a great deal without people noticing it.
+When one got to know him well one could only tell it by his half-
+closed eyes and his overbold behavior to women. The zinc-worker, on
+the contrary, became quite disgusting, and could no longer drink
+without putting himself into a beastly state.
+
+Thus, towards the beginning of November, Coupeau went in for a booze
+which ended in a most dirty manner, both for himself and the others.
+The day before he had been offered a job. This time Lantier was full
+of fine sentiments; he lauded work, because work ennobles a man. In
+the morning he even rose before it was light, for he gravely wished to
+accompany his friend to the workshop, honoring in him the workman
+really worthy of the name. But when they arrived before the "Little
+Civet," which was just opening, they entered to have a plum in brandy,
+only one, merely to drink together to the firm observance of a good
+resolution. On a bench opposite the counter, and with his back against
+the wall, Bibi-the-Smoker was sitting smoking with a sulky look on his
+face.
+
+"Hallo! Here's Bibi having a snooze," said Coupeau. "Are you down in
+the dumps, old bloke?"
+
+"No, no," replied the comrade, stretching his arm. "It's the employers
+who disgust me. I sent mine to the right about yesterday. They're all
+toads and scoundrels."
+
+Bibi-the-Smoker accepted a plum. He was, no doubt, waiting there on
+that bench for someone to stand him a drink. Lantier, however, took
+the part of the employers; they often had some very hard times, as he
+who had been in business himself well knew. The workers were a bad
+lot, forever getting drunk! They didn't take their work seriously.
+Sometimes they quit in the middle of a job and only returned when they
+needed something in their pockets. Then Lantier would switch his
+attack to the employers. They were nasty exploiters, regular
+cannibals. But he could sleep with a clear conscience as he had always
+acted as a friend to his employees. He didn't want to get rich the way
+others did.
+
+"Let's be off, my boy," he said, speaking to Coupeau. "We must be
+going or we shall be late."
+
+Bibi-the-Smoker followed them, swinging his arms. Outside the sun was
+scarcely rising, the pale daylight seemed dirtied by the muddy
+reflection of the pavement; it had rained the night before and it was
+very mild. The gas lamps had just been turned out; the Rue des
+Poissonniers, in which shreds of night rent by the houses still
+floated, was gradually filling with the dull tramp of the workmen
+descending towards Paris. Coupeau, with his zinc-worker's bag slung
+over his shoulder, walked along in the imposing manner of a fellow who
+feels in good form for a change. He turned round and asked:
+
+"Bibi, do you want a job. The boss told me to bring a pal if I could."
+
+"No thanks," answered Bibi-the-Smoker; "I'm purging myself. You should
+ask My-Boots. He was looking for something yesterday. Wait a minute.
+My-Boots is most likely in there."
+
+And as they reached the bottom of the street they indeed caught sight
+of My-Boots inside Pere Colombe's. In spite of the early hour
+l'Assommoir was flaring, the shutters down, the gas lighted. Lantier
+stood at the door, telling Coupeau to make haste, because they had
+only ten minutes left.
+
+"What! You're going to work for that rascal Bourguignon?" yelled My-
+Boots, when the zinc-worker had spoken to him. "You'll never catch me
+in his hutch again! No, I'd rather go till next year with my tongue
+hanging out of my mouth. But, old fellow, you won't stay three days,
+and it's I who tell you so."
+
+"Really now, is it such a dirty hole?" asked Coupeau anxiously.
+
+"Oh, it's about the dirtiest. You can't move there. The ape's for ever
+on your back. And such queer ways too--a missus who always says you're
+drunk, a shop where you mustn't spit. I sent them to the right about
+the first night, you know."
+
+"Good; now I'm warned. I shan't stop there for ever. I'll just go this
+morning to see what it's like; but if the boss bothers me, I'll catch
+him up and plant him upon his missus, you know, bang together like two
+fillets of sole!"
+
+Then Coupeau thanked his friend for the useful information and shook
+his hand. As he was about to leave, My-Boots cursed angrily. Was that
+lousy Bourguignon going to stop them from having a drink? Weren't they
+free any more? He could well wait another five minutes. Lantier came
+in to share in the round and they stood together at the counter. My-
+Boots, with his smock black with dirt and his cap flattened on his
+head had recently been proclaimed king of pigs and drunks after he had
+eaten a salad of live beetles and chewed a piece of a dead cat.
+
+"Say there, old Borgia," he called to Pere Colombe, "give us some of
+your yellow stuff, first class mule's wine."
+
+And when Pere Colombe, pale and quiet in his blue-knitted waistcoat,
+had filled the four glasses, these gentlemen tossed them off, so as
+not to let the liquor get flat.
+
+"That does some good when it goes down," murmured Bibi-the-Smoker.
+
+The comic My-Boots had a story to tell. He was so drunk on the Friday
+that his comrades had stuck his pipe in his mouth with a handful of
+plaster. Anyone else would have died of it; he merely strutted about
+and puffed out his chest.
+
+"Do you gentlemen require anything more?" asked Pere Colombe in his
+oily voice.
+
+"Yes, fill us up again," said Lantier. "It's my turn."
+
+Now they were talking of women. Bibi-the-Smoker had taken his girl to
+an aunt's at Montrouge on the previous Sunday. Coupeau asked for the
+news of the "Indian Mail," a washerwoman of Chaillot who was known in
+the establishment. They were about to drink, when My-Boots loudly
+called to Goujet and Lorilleux who were passing by. They came just to
+the door, but would not enter. The blacksmith did not care to take
+anything. The chainmaker, pale and shivering, held in his pocket the
+gold chains he was going to deliver; and he coughed and asked them to
+excuse him, saying that the least drop of brandy would nearly make him
+split his sides.
+
+"There are hypocrites for you!" grunted My-Boots. "I bet they have
+their drinks on the sly."
+
+And when he had poked his nose in his glass he attacked Pere Colombe.
+
+"Vile druggist, you've changed the bottle! You know it's no good your
+trying to palm your cheap stuff off on me."
+
+The day had advanced; a doubtful sort of light lit up l'Assommoir,
+where the landlord was turning out the gas. Coupeau found excuses for
+his brother-in-law who could not stand drink, which after all was no
+crime. He even approved Goujet's behavior for it was a real blessing
+never to be thirsty. And as he talked of going off to his work
+Lantier, with his grand air of a gentleman, sharply gave him a lesson.
+One at least stood one's turn before sneaking off; one should not
+leave one's friends like a mean blackguard, even when going to do
+one's duty.
+
+"Is he going to badger us much longer about his work?" cried My-Boots.
+
+"So this is your turn, sir?" asked Pere Colombe of Coupeau.
+
+The latter paid. But when it came to Bibi-the-Smoker's turn he
+whispered to the landlord who refused with a shake of the head. My-
+Boots understood, and again set to abusing the old Jew Colombe. What!
+A rascal like him dared to behave in that way to a comrade! Everywhere
+else one could get drink on tick! It was only in such low boozing-dens
+that one was insulted! The landlord remained calm, leaning his big
+fists on the edge of the counter. He politely said:
+
+"Lend the gentleman some money--that will be far simpler."
+
+"/Mon Dieu!/ Yes, I'll lend him some," yelled My-Boots. "Here! Bibi,
+throw this money in his face, the limb of Satan!"
+
+Then, excited and annoyed at seeing Coupeau with his bag slung over
+his shoulder, he continued speaking to the zinc-worker:
+
+"You look like a wet-nurse. Drop your brat. It'll give you a hump-
+back."
+
+Coupeau hesitated an instant; and then, quietly, as though he had only
+made up his mind after considerable reflection, he laid his bag on the
+ground saying:
+
+"It's too late now. I'll go to Bourguignon's after lunch. I'll tell
+him that the missus was ill. Listen, Pere Colombe, I'll leave my tools
+under this seat and I'll call for them at twelve o'clock."
+
+Lantier gave his blessing to this arrangement with an approving nod.
+Labor was necessary, yes, but when you're with good friends, courtesy
+comes first. Now the four had five hours of idleness before them. They
+were full of noisy merriment. Coupeau was especially relieved. They
+had another round and then went to a small bar that had a billiard
+table.
+
+At first Lantier turned up his nose at this establishment because it
+was rather shabby. So much liquor had been spilled on the billiard
+table that the balls stuck to it. Once the game got started though,
+Lantier recovered his good humor and began to flaunt his extraordinary
+knack with a cue.
+
+When lunch time came Coupeau had an idea. He stamped his feet and
+cried:
+
+"We must go and fetch Salted-Mouth. I know where he's working. We'll
+take him to Mere Louis' to have some pettitoes."
+
+The idea was greeted with acclamation. Yes, Salted-Mouth, otherwise
+Drink-without-Thirst, was no doubt in want of some pettitoes. They
+started off. Coupeau took them to the bolt factory in the Rue
+Marcadet. As they arrived a good half hour before the time the workmen
+came out, the zinc-worker gave a youngster two sous to go in and tell
+Salted-Mouth that his wife was ill and wanted him at once. The
+blacksmith made his appearance, waddling in his walk, looking very
+calm, and scenting a tuck-out.
+
+"Ah! you jokers!" said he, as soon as he caught sight of them hiding
+in a doorway. "I guessed it. Well, what are we going to eat?"
+
+At mother Louis', whilst they sucked the little bones of the
+pettitoes, they again fell to abusing the employers. Salted-Mouth,
+otherwise Drink-without-Thirst, related that they had a most pressing
+order to execute at the shop. Oh! the ape was pleasant for the time
+being. One could be late, and he would say nothing; he no doubt
+considered himself lucky when one turned up at all. At any rate, no
+boss would dare to throw Salted-Mouth out the door, because you
+couldn't find lads of his capacity any more. After the pettitoes they
+had an omelet. When each of them had emptied his bottle, Mere Louis
+brought out some Auvergne wine, thick enough to cut with a knife. The
+party was really warming up.
+
+"What do you think is the ape's latest idea?" cried Salted-Mouth at
+dessert. "Why, he's been and put a bell up in his shed! A bell! That's
+good for slaves. Ah, well! It can ring to-day! They won't catch me
+again at the anvil! For five days past I've been sticking there; I may
+give myself a rest now. If he deducts anything, I'll send him to
+blazes."
+
+"I," said Coupeau, with an air of importance, "I'm obliged to leave
+you; I'm off to work. Yes, I promised my wife. Amuse yourselves; my
+spirit you know remains with my pals."
+
+The others chuffed him. But he seemed so decided that they all
+accompanied him when he talked of going to fetch his tools from Pere
+Colombe's. He took his bag from under the seat and laid it on the
+ground before him whilst they had a final drink. But at one o'clock
+the party was still standing drinks. Then Coupeau, with a bored
+gesture placed the tools back again under the seat. They were in his
+way; he could not get near the counter without stumbling against them.
+It was too absurd; he would go to Bourguignon's on the morrow. The
+other four, who were quarrelling about the question of salaries, were
+not at all surprised when the zinc-worker, without any explanation,
+proposed a little stroll on the Boulevard, just to stretch their legs.
+They didn't go very far. They seemed to have nothing to say to each
+other out in the fresh air. Without even consulting each other with so
+much as a nudge, they slowly and instinctively ascended the Rue des
+Poissonniers, where they went to Francois's and had a glass of wine
+out of the bottle. Lantier pushed his comrades inside the private room
+at the back; it was a narrow place with only one table in it, and was
+separated from the shop by a dull glazed partition. He liked to do his
+drinking in private rooms because it seemed more respectable. Didn't
+they like it here? It was as comfortable as being at home. You could
+even take a nap here without being embarrassed. He called for the
+newspaper, spread it out open before him, and looked through it,
+frowning the while. Coupeau and My-Boots had commenced a game of
+piquet. Two bottles of wine and five glasses were scattered about the
+table.
+
+They emptied their glasses. Then Lantier read out loud:
+
+"A frightful crime has just spread consternation throughout the
+Commune of Gaillon, Department of Seine-et-Marne. A son has killed his
+father with blows from a spade in order to rob him of thirty sous."
+
+They all uttered a cry of horror. There was a fellow whom they would
+have taken great pleasure in seeing guillotined! No, the guillotine
+was not enough; he deserved to be cut into little pieces. The story of
+an infanticide equally aroused their indignation; but the hatter,
+highly moral, found excuses for the woman, putting all the wrong on
+the back of her husband; for after all, if some beast of a man had not
+put the wretched woman into the way of bleak poverty, she could not
+have drowned it in a water closet.
+
+They were most delighted though by the exploit of a Marquis who,
+coming out of a dance hall at two in the morning, had defended himself
+against an attack by three blackguards on the Boulevard des Invalides.
+Without taking off his gloves, he had disposed of the first two
+villains by ramming his head into their stomachs, and then had marched
+the third one off to the police. What a man! Too bad he was a noble.
+
+"Listen to this now," continued Lantier. "Here's some society news: 'A
+marriage is arranged between the eldest daughter of the Countess de
+Bretigny and the young Baron de Valancay, aide-de-camp to His Majesty.
+The wedding trousseau will contain more than three hundred thousand
+francs' worth of lace."
+
+"What's that to us?" interrupted Bibi-the-Smoker. "We don't want to
+know the color of her mantle. The girl can have no end of lace;
+nevertheless she'll see the folly of loving."
+
+As Lantier seemed about to continue his reading, Salted-Mouth,
+otherwise Drink-without-Thirst, took the newspaper from him and sat
+upon it, saying:
+
+"Ah! no, that's enough! This is all the paper is good for."
+
+Meanwhile, My-Boots, who had been looking at his hand, triumphantly
+banged his fist down on the table. He scored ninety-three.
+
+"I've got the Revolution!" he exulted.
+
+"You're out of luck, comrade," the others told Coupeau.
+
+They ordered two fresh bottles. The glasses were filled up again as
+fast as they were emptied, the booze increased. Towards five o'clock
+it began to get disgusting, so much so that Lantier kept very quiet,
+thinking of how to give the others the slip; brawling and throwing the
+wine about was no longer his style. Just then Coupeau stood up to make
+the drunkard's sign of the cross. Touching his head he pronounced
+Montpernasse, then Menilmonte as he brought his hand to his right
+shoulder, Bagnolet giving himself a blow in the chest, and wound up by
+saying stewed rabbit three times as he hit himself in the pit of the
+stomach. Then the hatter took advantage of the clamor which greeted
+the performance of this feat and quietly made for the door. His
+comrades did not even notice his departure. He had already had a
+pretty good dose. But once outside he shook himself and regained his
+self-possession; and he quietly made for the shop, where he told
+Gervaise that Coupeau was with some friends.
+
+Two days passed by. The zinc-worker had not returned. He was reeling
+about the neighborhood, but no one knew exactly where. Several
+persons, however, stated that they had seen him at mother Baquet's, at
+the "Butterfly," and at the "Little Old Man with a Cough." Only some
+said that he was alone, whilst others affirmed that he was in the
+company of seven or eight drunkards like himself. Gervaise shrugged
+her shoulders in a resigned sort of way. /Mon Dieu!/ She just had to
+get used to it. She never ran about after her old man; she even went
+out of her way if she caught sight of him inside a wineshop, so as to
+not anger him; and she waited at home till he returned, listening at
+night-time to hear if he was snoring outside the door. He would sleep
+on a rubbish heap, or on a seat, or in a piece of waste land, or
+across a gutter. On the morrow, after having only badly slept off his
+booze of the day before, he would start off again, knocking at the
+doors of all the consolation dealers, plunging afresh into a furious
+wandering, in the midst of nips of spirits, glasses of wine, losing
+his friends and then finding them again, going regular voyages from
+which he returned in a state of stupor, seeing the streets dance, the
+night fall and the day break, without any other thought than to drink
+and sleep off the effects wherever he happened to be. When in the
+latter state, the world was ended so far as he was concerned. On the
+second day, however, Gervaise went to Pere Colombe's l'Assommoir to
+find out something about him; he had been there another five times,
+they were unable to tell her anything more. All she could do was to
+take away his tools which he had left under a seat.
+
+In the evening Lantier, seeing that the laundress seemed very worried,
+offered to take her to a music-hall, just by way of passing a pleasant
+hour or two. She refused at first, she was in no mood for laughing.
+Otherwise she would not have said, "no," for the hatter made the
+proposal in too straightforward a manner for her to feel any mistrust.
+He seemed to feel for her in quite a paternal way. Never before had
+Coupeau slept out two nights running. So that in spite of herself, she
+would go every ten minutes to the door, with her iron in her hand, and
+look up and down the street to see if her old man was coming.
+
+It might be that Coupeau had broken a leg, or fallen under a wagon and
+been crushed and that might be good riddance to bad rubbish. She saw
+no reason for cherishing in her heart any affection for a filthy
+character like him, but it was irritating, all the same, to have to
+wonder every night whether he would come in or not. When it got dark,
+Lantier again suggested the music-hall, and this time she accepted.
+She decided it would be silly to deny herself a little pleasure when
+her husband had been out on the town for three days. If he wasn't
+coming in, then she might as well go out herself. Let the entire dump
+burn up if it felt like it. She might even put a torch to it herself.
+She was getting tired of the boring monotony of her present life.
+
+They ate their dinner quickly. Then, when she went off at eight
+o'clock, arm-in-arm with the hatter, Gervaise told mother Coupeau and
+Nana to go to bed at once. The shop was shut and the shutters up. She
+left by the door opening into the courtyard and gave Madame Boche the
+key, asking her, if her pig of a husband came home, to have the
+kindness to put him to bed. The hatter was waiting for her under the
+big doorway, arrayed in his best and whistling a tune. She had on her
+silk dress. They walked slowly along the pavement, keeping close to
+each other, lighted up by the glare from the shop windows which showed
+them smiling and talking together in low voices.
+
+The music-hall was in the Boulevard de Rochechouart. It had originally
+been a little cafe and had been enlarged by means of a kind of wooden
+shed erected in the courtyard. At the door a string of glass globes
+formed a luminous porch. Tall posters pasted on boards stood upon the
+ground, close to the gutter.
+
+"Here we are," said Lantier. "To-night, first appearance of
+Mademoiselle Amanda, serio-comic."
+
+Then he caught sight of Bibi-the-Smoker, who was also reading the
+poster. Bibi had a black eye; some punch he had run up against the day
+before.
+
+"Well! Where's Coupeau?" inquired the hatter, looking about. "Have
+you, then, lost Coupeau?"
+
+"Oh! long ago, since yesterday," replied the other. "There was a bit
+of a free-for-all on leaving mother Baquet's. I don't care for
+fisticuffs. We had a row, you know, with mother Baquet's pot-boy,
+because he wanted to make us pay for a quart twice over. Then I left.
+I went and had a bit of a snooze."
+
+He was still yawning; he had slept eighteen hours at a stretch. He
+was, moreover, quite sobered, with a stupid look on his face, and his
+jacket smothered with fluff; for he had no doubt tumbled into bed with
+his clothes on.
+
+"And you don't know where my husband is, sir?" asked the laundress.
+
+"Well, no, not a bit. It was five o'clock when we left mother
+Baquet's. That's all I know about it. Perhaps he went down the street.
+Yes, I fancy now that I saw him go to the 'Butterfly' with a coachman.
+Oh! how stupid it is! Really, we deserve to be shot."
+
+Lantier and Gervaise spent a very pleasant evening at the music-hall.
+At eleven o'clock when the place closed, they strolled home without
+hurrying themselves. The cold was quite sharp. People seemed to be in
+groups. Some of the girls were giggling in the darkness as their men
+pressed close to them. Lantier was humming one of Mademoiselle
+Amanda's songs. Gervaise, with her head spinning from too much drink,
+hummed the refrain with him. It had been very warm at the music-hall
+and the two drinks she had had, along with all the smoke, had upset
+her stomach a bit. She had been quite impressed with Mademoiselle
+Amanda. She wouldn't dare to appear in public wearing so little, but
+she had to admit that the lady had lovely skin.
+
+"Everyone's asleep," said Gervaise, after ringing three times without
+the Boches opening the door.
+
+At length the door opened, but inside the porch it was very dark, and
+when she knocked at the window of the concierge's room to ask for her
+key, the concierge, who was half asleep, pulled out some rigmarole
+which she could make nothing of at first. She eventually understood
+that Poisson, the policeman, had brought Coupeau home in a frightful
+state, and that the key was no doubt in the lock.
+
+"The deuce!" murmured Lantier, when they had entered, "whatever has he
+been up to here? The stench is abominable."
+
+There was indeed a most powerful stench. As Gervaise went to look for
+matches, she stepped into something messy. After she succeeded in
+lighting a candle, a pretty sight met their eyes. Coupeau appeared to
+have disgorged his very insides. The bed was splattered all over, so
+was the carpet, and even the bureau had splashes on its sides. Besides
+that, he had fallen from the bed where Poisson had probably thrown
+him, and was snoring on the floor in the midst of the filth like a pig
+wallowing in the mire, exhaling his foul breath through his open
+mouth. His grey hair was straggling into the puddle around his head.
+
+"Oh! the pig! the pig!" repeated Gervaise, indignant and exasperated.
+"He's dirtied everything. No, a dog wouldn't have done that, even a
+dead dog is cleaner."
+
+They both hesitated to move, not knowing where to place their feet.
+Coupeau had never before come home and put the bedroom into such a
+shocking state. This sight was a blow to whatever affection his wife
+still had for him. Previously she had been forgiving and not seriously
+offended, even when he had been blind drunk. But this made her sick;
+it was too much. She wouldn't have touched Coupeau for the world, and
+just the thought of this filthy bum touching her caused a repugnance
+such as she might have felt had she been required to sleep beside the
+corpse of someone who had died from a terrible disease.
+
+"Oh, I must get into that bed," murmured she. "I can't go and sleep in
+the street. Oh! I'll crawl into it foot first."
+
+She tried to step over the drunkard, but had to catch hold of a corner
+of the chest of drawers to save herself from slipping in the mess.
+Coupeau completely blocked the way to the bed. Then, Lantier, who
+laughed to himself on seeing that she certainly could not sleep on her
+own pillow that night, took hold of her hand, saying, in a low and
+angry voice:
+
+"Gervaise, he is a pig."
+
+She understood what he meant and pulled her hand free. She sighed to
+herself, and, in her bewilderment, addressed him familiarly, as in the
+old days.
+
+"No, leave me alone, Auguste. Go to your own bed. I'll manage somehow
+to lie at the foot of the bed."
+
+"Come, Gervaise, don't be foolish," resumed he. "It's too abominable;
+you can't remain here. Come with me. He won't hear us. What are you
+afraid of?"
+
+"No," she replied firmly, shaking her head vigorously. Then, to show
+that she would remain where she was, she began to take off her
+clothes, throwing her silk dress over a chair. She was quickly in only
+her chemise and petticoat. Well, it was her own bed. She wanted to
+sleep in her own bed and made two more attempts to reach a clean
+corner of the bed.
+
+Lantier, having no intention of giving up, whispered things to her.
+
+What a predicament she was in, with a louse of a husband that
+prevented her from crawling under her own blankets and a low skunk
+behind her just waiting to take advantage of the situation to possess
+her again. She begged Lantier to be quiet. Turning toward the small
+room where Nana and mother Coupeau slept, she listened anxiously. She
+could hear only steady breathing.
+
+"Leave me alone, Auguste," she repeated. "You'll wake them. Be
+sensible."
+
+Lantier didn't answer, but just smiled at her. Then he began to kiss
+her on the ear just as in the old days.
+
+Gervaise felt like sobbing. Her strength deserted her; she felt a
+great buzzing in her ears, a violent tremor passed through her. She
+advanced another step forward. And she was again obliged to draw back.
+It was not possible, the disgust was too great. She felt on the verge
+of vomiting herself. Coupeau, overpowered by intoxication, lying as
+comfortably as though on a bed of down, was sleeping off his booze,
+without life in his limbs, and with his mouth all on one side. The
+whole street might have entered and laughed at him, without a hair of
+his body moving.
+
+"Well, I can't help it," she faltered. "It's his own fault. /Mon
+Dieu!/ He's forcing me out of my own bed. I've no bed any longer. No,
+I can't help it. It's his own fault."
+
+She was trembling so she scarcely knew what she was doing. While
+Lantier was urging her into his room, Nana's face appeared at one of
+the glass panes in the door of the little room. The young girl, pale
+from sleep, had awakened and gotten out of bed quietly. She stared at
+her father lying in his vomit. Then, she stood watching until her
+mother disappeared into Lantier's room. She watched with the intensity
+and the wide-open eyes of a vicious child aflame with curiosity.
+
+
+
+                              CHAPTER IX
+
+That winter mother Coupeau nearly went off in one of her coughing
+fits. Each December she could count on her asthma keeping her on her
+back for two and three weeks at a time. She was no longer fifteen, she
+would be seventy-three on Saint-Anthony's day. With that she was very
+rickety, getting a rattling in her throat for nothing at all, though
+she was plump and stout. The doctor said she would go off coughing,
+just time enough to say: "Good-night, the candle's out!"
+
+When she was in her bed mother Coupeau became positively unbearable.
+It is true though that the little room in which she slept with Nana
+was not at all gay. There was barely room for two chairs between the
+beds. The wallpaper, a faded gray, hung loose in long strips. The
+small window near the ceiling let in only a dim light. It was like a
+cavern. At night, as she lay awake, she could listen to the breathing
+of the sleeping Nana as a sort of distraction; but in the day-time, as
+there was no one to keep her company from morning to night, she
+grumbled and cried and repeated to herself for hours together, as she
+rolled her head on the pillow:
+
+"Good heavens! What a miserable creature I am! Good heavens! What a
+miserable creature I am! They'll leave me to die in prison, yes, in
+prison!"
+
+As soon as anyone called, Virginie or Madame Boche, to ask after her
+health, she would not reply directly, but immediately started on her
+list of complaints: "Oh, I pay dearly for the food I eat here. I'd be
+much better off with strangers. I asked for a cup of tisane and they
+brought me an entire pot of hot water. It was a way of saying that I
+drank too much. I brought Nana up myself and she scurries away in her
+bare feet every morning and I never see her again all day. Then at
+night she sleeps so soundly that she never wakes up to ask me if I'm
+in pain. I'm just a nuisance to them. They're waiting for me to die.
+That will happen soon enough. I don't even have a son any more; that
+laundress has taken him from me. She'd beat me to death if she wasn't
+afraid of the law."
+
+Gervaise was indeed rather hasty at times. The place was going to the
+dogs, everyone's temper was getting spoilt and they sent each other to
+the right about for the least word. Coupeau, one morning that he had a
+hangover, exclaimed: "The old thing's always saying she's going to
+die, and yet she never does!" The words struck mother Coupeau to the
+heart. They frequently complained of how much she cost them, observing
+that they would save a lot of money when she was gone.
+
+When at her worst that winter, one afternoon, when Madame Lorilleux
+and Madame Lerat had met at her bedside, mother Coupeau winked her eye
+as a signal to them to lean over her. She could scarcely speak. She
+rather hissed than said in a low voice:
+
+"It's becoming indecent. I heard them last night. Yes, Clump-clump and
+the hatter. And they were kicking up such a row together! Coupeau's
+too decent for her."
+
+And she related in short sentences, coughing and choking between each,
+that her son had come home dead drunk the night before. Then, as she
+was not asleep, she was easily able to account for all the noises, of
+Clump-clump's bare feet tripping over the tiled floor, the hissing
+voice of the hatter calling her, the door between the two rooms gently
+closed, and the rest. It must have lasted till daylight. She could not
+tell the exact time, because, in spite of her efforts, she had ended
+by falling into a dose.
+
+"What's most disgusting is that Nana might have heard everything,"
+continued she. "She was indeed restless all the night, she who usually
+sleeps so sound. She tossed about and kept turning over as though
+there had been some lighted charcoal in her bed."
+
+The other two women did not seem at all surprised.
+
+"Of course!" murmured Madame Lorilleux, "it probably began the very
+first night. But as it pleases Coupeau, we've no business to
+interfere. All the same, it's not very respectable."
+
+"As for me," declared Madame Lerat through clenched teeth, "if I'd
+been there, I'd have thrown a fright into them. I'd have shouted
+something, anything. A doctor's maid told me once that the doctor had
+told her that a surprise like that, at a certain moment, could strike
+a woman dead. If she had died right there, that would have been well,
+wouldn't it? She would have been punished right where she had sinned."
+
+It wasn't long until the entire neighborhood knew that Gervaise
+visited Lantier's room every night. Madame Lorilleux was loudly
+indignant, calling her brother a poor fool whose wife had shamed him.
+And her poor mother, forced to live in the midst of such horrors. As a
+result, the neighbors blamed Gervaise. Yes, she must have led Lantier
+astray; you could see it in her eyes. In spite of the nasty gossip,
+Lantier was still liked because he was always so polite. He always had
+candy or flowers to give the ladies. /Mon Dieu!/ Men shouldn't be
+expected to push away women who threw themselves at them. There was no
+excuse for Gervaise. She was a disgrace. The Lorilleuxs used to bring
+Nana up to their apartment in order to find out more details from her,
+their godchild. But Nana would put on her expression of innocent
+stupidity and lower her long silky eyelashes to hide the fire in her
+eyes as she replied.
+
+In the midst of this general indignation, Gervaise lived quietly on,
+feeling tired out and half asleep. At first she considered herself
+very sinful and felt a disgust for herself. When she left Lantier's
+room she would wash her hands and scrub herself as if trying to get
+rid of an evil stain. If Coupeau then tried to joke with her, she
+would fly into a passion, and run and shiveringly dress herself in the
+farthest corner of the shop; neither would she allow Lantier near her
+soon after her husband had kissed her. She would have liked to have
+changed her skin as she changed men. But she gradually became
+accustomed to it. Soon it was too much trouble to scrub herself each
+time. Her thirst for happiness led her to enjoy as much as she could
+the difficult situation. She had always been disposed to make
+allowances for herself, so why not for others? She only wanted to
+avoid causing trouble. As long as the household went along as usual,
+there was nothing to complain about.
+
+Then, after all, she could not be doing anything to make Coupeau stop
+drinking; matters were arranged so easily to the general satisfaction.
+One is generally punished if one does what is not right. His
+dissoluteness had gradually become a habit. Now it was as regular an
+affair as eating and drinking. Each time Coupeau came home drunk, she
+would go to Lantier's room. This was usually on Mondays, Tuesdays and
+Wednesdays. Sometimes on other nights, if Coupeau was snoring too
+loudly, she would leave in the middle of the night. It was not that
+she cared more for Lantier, but just that she slept better in his
+room.
+
+Mother Coupeau never dared speak openly of it. But after a quarrel,
+when the laundress had bullied her, the old woman was not sparing in
+her allusions. She would say that she knew men who were precious fools
+and women who were precious hussies, and she would mutter words far
+more biting, with the sharpness of language pertaining to an old
+waistcoat-maker. The first time this had occurred Gervaise looked at
+her straight in the face without answering. Then, also avoiding going
+into details, she began to defend herself with reasons given in a
+general sort of way. When a woman had a drunkard for a husband, a pig
+who lived in filth, that woman was to be excused if she sought for
+cleanliness elsewhere. Once she pointed out that Lantier was just as
+much her husband as Coupeau was. Hadn't she known him since she was
+fourteen and didn't she have children by him?
+
+Anyway, she'd like to see anyone make trouble for her. She wasn't the
+only one around the Rue de la Goutte-d'Or. Madame Vigouroux, the coal-
+dealer had a merry dance from morning to night. Then there was the
+grocer's wife, Madame Lehongre with her brother-in-law. /Mon Dieu!/
+What a slob of a fellow. He wasn't worth touching with a shovel. Even
+the neat little clockmaker was said to have carried on with his own
+daughter, a streetwalker. Ah, the entire neighborhood. Oh, she knew
+plenty of dirt.
+
+One day when mother Coupeau was more pointed than usual in her
+observations, Gervaise had replied to her, clinching her teeth:
+
+"You're confined to your bed and you take advantage of it. Listen!
+You're wrong. You see that I behave nicely to you, for I've never
+thrown your past life into your teeth. Oh! I know all about it. No,
+don't cough. I've finished what I had to say. It's only to request you
+to mind your own business, that's all!"
+
+The old woman almost choked. On the morrow, Goujet having called about
+his mother's washing when Gervaise happened to be out, mother Coupeau
+called him to her and kept him some time seated beside her bed. She
+knew all about the blacksmith's friendship, and had noticed that for
+some time past he had looked dismal and wretched, from a suspicion of
+the melancholy things that were taking place. So, for the sake of
+gossiping, and out of revenge for the quarrel of the day before, she
+bluntly told him the truth, weeping and complaining as though
+Gervaise's wicked behavior did her some special injury. When Goujet
+quitted the little room, he leant against the wall, almost stifling
+with grief. Then, when the laundress returned home, mother Coupeau
+called to her that Madame Goujet required her to go round with her
+clothes, ironed or not; and she was so animated that Gervaise, seeing
+something was wrong, guessed what had taken place and had a
+presentiment of the unpleasantness which awaited her.
+
+Very pale, her limbs already trembling, she placed the things in a
+basket and started off. For years past she had not returned the
+Goujets a sou of their money. The debt still amounted to four hundred
+and twenty-five francs. She always spoke of her embarrassments and
+received the money for the washing. It filled her with shame, because
+she seemed to be taking advantage of the blacksmith's friendship to
+make a fool of him. Coupeau, who had now become less scrupulous, would
+chuckle and say that Goujet no doubt had fooled around with her a bit,
+and had so paid himself. But she, in spite of the relations she had
+fallen into with Coupeau, would indignantly ask her husband if he
+already wished to eat of that sort of bread. She would not allow
+anyone to say a word against Goujet in her presence; her affection for
+the blacksmith remained like a last shred of her honor. Thus, every
+time she took the washing home to those worthy people, she felt a
+spasm of her heart the moment she put a foot on their stairs.
+
+"Ah! it's you, at last!" said Madame Goujet sharply, on opening the
+door to her. "When I'm in want of death, I'll send you to fetch him."
+
+Gervaise entered, greatly embarrassed, not even daring to mutter an
+excuse. She was no longer punctual, never came at the time arranged,
+and would keep her customers waiting for days on end. Little by little
+she was giving way to a system of thorough disorder.
+
+"For a week past I've been expecting you," continued the lace-mender.
+"And you tell falsehoods too; you send your apprentice to me with all
+sorts of stories; you are then busy with my things, you will deliver
+them the same evening, or else you've had an accident, the bundle's
+fallen into a pail of water. Whilst all this is going on, I waste my
+time, nothing turns up, and it worries me exceedingly. No, you're most
+unreasonable. Come, what have you in your basket? Is everything there
+now? Have you brought me the pair of sheets you've been keeping back
+for a month past, and the chemise which was missing the last time you
+brought home the washing?"
+
+"Yes, yes," murmured Gervaise, "I have the chemise. Here it is."
+
+But Madame Goujet cried out. That chemise was not hers, she would have
+nothing to do with it. Her things were changed now; it was too bad!
+Only the week before, there were two handkerchiefs which hadn't her
+mark on them. It was not to her taste to have clothes coming from no
+one knew where. Besides that, she liked to have her own things.
+
+"And the sheets?" she resumed. "They're lost, aren't they? Well!
+Woman, you must see about them, for I insist upon having them
+to-morrow morning, do you hear?"
+
+There was a silence which particularly bothered Gervaise when she
+noticed that the door to Goujet's room was open. If he was in there,
+it was most annoying that he should hear these just criticisms. She
+made no reply, meekly bowing her head, and placing the laundry on the
+bed as quickly as possible.
+
+Matters became worse when Madame Goujet began to look over the things,
+one by one. She took hold of them and threw them down again saying:
+
+"Ah! you don't get them up nearly so well as you used to do. One can't
+compliment you every day now. Yes, you've taken to mucking your work--
+doing it in a most slovenly way. Just look at this shirt-front, it's
+scorched, there's the mark of the iron on the plaits; and the buttons
+have all been torn off. I don't know how you manage it, but there's
+never a button left on anything. Oh! now, here's a petticoat body
+which I shall certainly not pay you for. Look there! The dirt's still
+on it, you've simply smoothed it over. So now the things are not even
+clean!"
+
+She stopped whilst she counted the different articles. Then she
+exclaimed:
+
+"What! This is all you've brought? There are two pairs of stockings,
+six towels, a table-cloth, and several dish-cloths short. You're
+regularly trifling with me, it seems! I sent word that you were to
+bring me everything, ironed or not. If your apprentice isn't here on
+the hour with the rest of the things, we shall fall out, Madame
+Coupeau, I warn you."
+
+At this moment Goujet coughed in his room. Gervaise slightly started.
+/Mon Dieu!/ How she was treated before him. And she remained standing
+in the middle of the rooms, embarrassed and confused and waiting for
+the dirty clothes; but after making up the account Madame Goujet had
+quietly returned to her seat near the window, and resumed the mending
+of a lace shawl.
+
+"And the dirty things?" timidly inquired the laundress.
+
+"No, thank you," replied the old woman, "there will be no laundry this
+week."
+
+Gervaise turned pale. She was no longer to have the washing. Then she
+quite lost her head; she was obliged to sit down on a chair, for her
+legs were giving way under her. She did not attempt to vindicate
+herself. All that she would find to say was:
+
+"Is Monsieur Goujet ill?"
+
+Yes, he was not well. He had been obliged to come home instead of
+returning to the forge, and he had gone to lie down on his bed to get
+a rest. Madame Goujet talked gravely, wearing her black dress as usual
+and her white face framed in her nun-like coif. The pay at the forge
+had been cut again. It was now only seven francs a day because the
+machines did so much of the work. This forced her to save money every
+way she could. She would do her own washing from now on. It would
+naturally have been very helpful if the Coupeaus had been able to
+return her the money lent them by her son; but she was not going to
+set the lawyers on them, as they were unable to pay. As she was
+talking about the debt, Gervaise lowered her eyes in embarrassment.
+
+"All the same," continued the lace-maker, "by pinching yourselves a
+little you could manage to pay it off. For really now, you live very
+well; and spend a great deal, I'm sure. If you were only to pay off
+ten francs a month--"
+
+She was interrupted by the sound of Goujet's voice as he called:
+
+"Mamma! Mamma!"
+
+And when she returned to her seat, which was almost immediately, she
+changed the conversation. The blacksmith had doubtless begged her not
+to ask Gervaise for money; but in spite of herself she again spoke of
+the debt at the expiration of five minutes. Oh! She had foreseen long
+ago what was now happening. Coupeau was drinking all that the laundry
+business brought in and dragging his wife down with him. Her son would
+never have loaned the money if he had only listened to her. By now he
+would have been married, instead of miserably sad with only
+unhappiness to look forward to for the rest of his life. She grew
+quite stern and angry, even accusing Gervaise of having schemed with
+Coupeau to take advantage of her foolish son. Yes, some women were
+able to play the hypocrite for years, but eventually the truth came
+out.
+
+"Mamma! Mamma!" again called Goujet, but louder this time.
+
+She rose from her seat and when she returned she said, as she resumed
+her lace mending:
+
+"Go in, he wishes to see you."
+
+Gervaise, all in a tremble left the door open. This scene filled her
+with emotion because it was like an avowal of their affection before
+Madame Goujet. She again beheld the quiet little chamber, with its
+narrow iron bedstead, and papered all over with pictures, the whole
+looking like the room of some girl of fifteen. Goujet's big body was
+stretched on the bed. Mother Coupeau's disclosures and the things his
+mother had been saying seemed to have knocked all the life out of his
+limbs. His eyes were red and swollen, his beautiful yellow beard was
+still wet. In the first moment of rage he must have punched away at
+his pillow with his terrible fists, for the ticking was split and the
+feathers were coming out.
+
+"Listen, mamma's wrong," said he to the laundress in a voice that was
+scarcely audible. "You owe me nothing. I won't have it mentioned
+again."
+
+He had raised himself up and was looking at her. Big tears at once
+filled his eyes.
+
+"Do you suffer, Monsieur Goujet?" murmured she. "What is the matter
+with you? Tell me!"
+
+"Nothing, thanks. I tired myself with too much work yesterday. I will
+rest a bit."
+
+Then, his heart breaking, he could not restrain himself and burst out:
+
+"/Mon Dieu!/ Ah! /Mon Dieu!/ It was never to be--never. You swore it.
+And now it is--it is! Ah, it pains me too much, leave me!"
+
+And with his hand he gently and imploringly motioned to her to go. She
+did not draw nearer to the bed. She went off as he requested her to,
+feeling stupid, unable to say anything to soothe him. When in the
+other room she took up her basket; but she did not go home. She stood
+there trying to find something to say. Madame Goujet continued her
+mending without raising her head. It was she who at length said:
+
+"Well! Good-night; send me back my things and we will settle up
+afterwards."
+
+"Yes, it will be best so--good-night," stammered Gervaise.
+
+She took a last look around the neatly arranged room and thought as
+she shut the door that she seemed to be leaving some part of her
+better self behind. She plodded blindly back to the laundry, scarcely
+knowing where she was going.
+
+When Gervaise arrived, she found mother Coupeau out of her bed,
+sitting on a chair by the stove. Gervaise was too tired to scold her.
+Her bones ached as though she had been beaten and she was thinking
+that her life was becoming too hard to bear. Surely a quick death was
+the only escape from the pain in her heart.
+
+After this, Gervaise became indifferent to everything. With a vague
+gesture of her hand she would send everybody about their business. At
+each fresh worry she buried herself deeper in her only pleasure, which
+was to have her three meals a day. The shop might have collapsed. So
+long as she was not beneath it, she would have gone off willingly
+without a chemise to her back. And the little shop was collapsing, not
+suddenly, but little by little, morning and evening. One by one the
+customers got angry, and sent their washing elsewhere. Monsieur
+Madinier, Mademoiselle Remanjou, the Boches themselves had returned to
+Madame Fauconnier, where they could count on great punctuality. One
+ends by getting tired of asking for a pair of stockings for three
+weeks straight, and of putting on shirts with grease stains dating
+from the previous Sunday. Gervaise, without losing a bite, wished them
+a pleasant journey, and spoke her mind about them, saying that she was
+precious glad she would no longer have to poke her nose into their
+filth. The entire neighborhood could quit her; that would relieve her
+of the piles of stinking junk and give her less work to do.
+
+Now her only customers were those who didn't pay regularly, the
+street-walkers, and women like Madame Gaudron, whose laundry smelled
+so bad that not one of the laundresses on the Rue Neuve would take it.
+She had to let Madame Putois go, leaving only her apprentice, squint-
+eyed Augustine, who seemed to grow more stupid as time passed.
+Frequently there was not even enough work for the two of them and they
+sat on stools all afternoon doing nothing.
+
+Whilst idleness and poverty entered, dirtiness naturally entered also.
+One would never have recognised that beautiful blue shop, the color of
+heaven, which had once been Gervaise's pride. Its window-frames and
+panes, which were never washed, were covered from top to bottom with
+the splashes of the passing vehicles. On the brass rods in the windows
+were displayed three grey rags left by customers who had died in the
+hospital. And inside it was more pitiable still; the dampness of the
+clothes hung up at the ceiling to dry had loosed all the wallpaper;
+the Pompadour chintz hung in strips like cobwebs covered with dust;
+the big stove, broken and in holes from the rough use of the poker,
+looked in its corner like the stock in trade of a dealer in old iron;
+the work-table appeared as though it had been used by a regiment,
+covered as it was with wine and coffee stains, sticky with jam, greasy
+from spilled gravy.
+
+Gervaise was so at ease among it all that she never even noticed the
+shop was getting filthy. She became used to it all, just as she got
+used to wearing torn skirts and no longer washing herself carefully.
+The disorder was like a warm nest.
+
+Her own ease was her sole consideration; she did not care a pin for
+anything else. The debts, though still increasing, no longer troubled
+her. Her honesty gradually deserted her; whether she would be able to
+pay or not was altogether uncertain, and she preferred not to think
+about it. When her credit was stopped at one shop, she would open an
+account at some other shop close by. She was in debt all over the
+neighborhood, she owed money every few yards. To take merely the Rue
+de la Goutte-d'Or, she no longer dared pass in front of the grocer's,
+nor the charcoal-dealer's, nor the greengrocer's; and this obliged
+her, whenever she required to be at the wash-house, to go round by the
+Rue des Poissonniers, which was quite ten minutes out of her way. The
+tradespeople came and treated her as a swindler. One evening the
+dealer from whom she had purchased Lantier's furniture made a scene in
+the street. Scenes like this upset her at the time, but were soon
+forgotten and never spoiled her appetite. What a nerve to bother her
+like that when she had no money to pay. They were all robbers anyway
+and it served them right to have to wait. Well, she'd have to go
+bankrupt, but she didn't intend to fret about it now.
+
+Meanwhile mother Coupeau had recovered. For another year the household
+jogged along. During the summer months there was naturally a little
+more work--the white petticoats and the cambric dresses of the street-
+walkers of the exterior Boulevard. The catastrophe was slowly
+approaching; the home sank deeper into the mire every week; there were
+ups and downs, however--days when one had to rub one's stomach before
+the empty cupboard, and others when one ate veal enough to make one
+burst. Mother Coupeau was for ever being seen in the street, hiding
+bundles under her apron, and strolling in the direction of the pawn-
+place in the Rue Polonceau. She strutted along with the air of a
+devotee going to mass; for she did not dislike these errands; haggling
+about money amused her; this crying up of her wares like a second-hand
+dealer tickled the old woman's fancy for driving hard bargains. The
+clerks knew her well and called her "Mamma Four Francs," because she
+always demanded four francs when they offered three, on bundles no
+bigger than two sous' worth of butter.
+
+At the start, Gervaise took advantage of good weeks to get things back
+from the pawn-shops, only to put them back again the next week. Later
+she let things go altogether, selling her pawn tickets for cash.
+
+One thing alone gave Gervaise a pang--it was having to pawn her clock
+to pay an acceptance for twenty francs to a bailiff who came to seize
+her goods. Until then, she had sworn rather to die of hunger than to
+part with her clock. When mother Coupeau carried it away in a little
+bonnet-box, she sunk on to a chair, without a particle of strength
+left in her arms, her eyes full of tears, as though a fortune was
+being torn from her. But when mother Coupeau reappeared with twenty-
+five francs, the unexpected loan, the five francs profit consoled her;
+she at once sent the old woman out again for four sous' worth of
+brandy in a glass, just to toast the five-franc piece.
+
+The two of them would often have a drop together, when they were on
+good terms with each other. Mother Coupeau was very successful at
+bringing back a full glass hidden in her apron pocket without spilling
+a drop. Well, the neighbors didn't need to know, did they. But the
+neighbors knew perfectly well. This turned the neighborhood even more
+against Gervaise. She was devouring everything; a few more mouthfuls
+and the place would be swept clean.
+
+In the midst of this general demolishment, Coupeau continued to
+prosper. The confounded tippler was as well as well could be. The sour
+wine and the "vitriol" positively fattened him. He ate a great deal,
+and laughed at that stick Lorilleux, who accused drink of killing
+people, and answered him by slapping himself on the stomach, the skin
+of which was so stretched by the fat that it resembled the skin of a
+drum. He would play him a tune on it, the glutton's vespers, with
+rolls and beats loud enough to have made a quack's fortune. Lorilleux,
+annoyed at not having any fat himself, said that it was soft and
+unhealthy. Coupeau ignored him and went on drinking more and more,
+saying it was for his health's sake.
+
+His hair was beginning to turn grey and his face to take on the
+drunkard's hue of purplish wine. He continued to act like a
+mischievous child. Well, it wasn't his concern if there was nothing
+about the place to eat. When he went for weeks without work he became
+even more difficult.
+
+Still, he was always giving Lantier friendly slaps on the back. People
+swore he had no suspicion at all. Surely something terrible would
+happen if he ever found out. Madame Lerat shook her head at this. His
+sister said she had known of husbands who didn't mind at all.
+
+Lantier wasn't wasting away either. He took great care of himself,
+measuring his stomach by the waist-board of his trousers, with the
+constant dread of having to loosen the buckle or draw it tighter; for
+he considered himself just right, and out of coquetry neither desired
+to grow fatter nor thinner. That made him hard to please in the matter
+of food, for he regarded every dish from the point of view of keeping
+his waist as it was. Even when there was not a sou in the house, he
+required eggs, cutlets, light and nourishing things. Since he was
+sharing the lady of the house, he considered himself to have a half
+interest in everything and would pocket any franc pieces he saw lying
+about. He kept Gervaise running here and there and seemed more at home
+than Coupeau. Nana was his favorite because he adored pretty little
+girls, but he paid less and less attention to Etienne, since boys,
+according to him, ought to know how to take care of themselves. If
+anyone came to see Coupeau while he was out, Lantier, in shirt sleeves
+and slippers, would come out of the back room with the bored
+expression of a husband who has been disturbed, saying he would answer
+for Coupeau as it was all the same.
+
+Between these two gentlemen, Gervaise had nothing to laugh about. She
+had nothing to complain of as regards her health, thank goodness! She
+was growing too fat. But two men to coddle was often more than she
+could manage. Ah! /Mon Dieu!/ one husband is already too much for a
+woman! The worst was that they got on very well together, the rogues.
+They never quarreled; they would chuckle in each other's faces, as
+they sat of an evening after dinner, their elbows on the table; they
+would rub up against one another all the live-long day, like cats
+which seek and cultivate their pleasure. The days when they came home
+in a rage, it was on her that they vented it. Go it! hammer away at
+the animal! She had a good back; it made them all the better friends
+when they yelled together. And it never did for her to give them tit-
+for-tat. In the beginning, whenever one of them yelled at her, she
+would appeal to the other, but this seldom worked. Coupeau had a foul
+mouth and called her horrible things. Lantier chose his insults
+carefully, but they often hurt her even more.
+
+But one can get used to anything. Soon their nasty remarks and all the
+wrongs done her by these two men slid off her smooth skin like water
+off a duck's back. It was even easier to have them angry, because when
+they were in good moods they bothered her too much, never giving her
+time to get a bonnet ironed.
+
+Yes, Coupeau and Lantier were wearing her out. The zinc-worker, sure
+enough, lacked education; but the hatter had too much, or at least he
+had education in the same way that dirty people have a white shirt,
+with uncleanliness underneath it. One night, she dreamt that she was
+on the edge of a wall; Coupeau was knocking her into it with a blow of
+his fist, whilst Lantier was tickling her in the ribs to make her fall
+quicker. Well! That resembled her life. It was no surprise if she was
+becoming slipshod. The neighbors weren't fair in blaming her for the
+frightful habits she had fallen into. Sometimes a cold shiver ran
+through her, but things could have been worse, so she tried to make
+the best of it. Once she had seen a play in which the wife detested
+her husband and poisoned him for the sake of her lover. Wasn't it more
+sensible for the three of them to live together in peace? In spite of
+her debts and poverty she thought she was quite happy and could live
+in peace if only Coupeau and Lantier would stop yelling at her so
+much.
+
+Towards the autumn, unfortunately, things became worse. Lantier
+pretended he was getting thinner, and pulled a longer face over the
+matter every day. He grumbled at everything, sniffed at the dishes of
+potatoes--a mess he could not eat, he would say, without having the
+colic. The least jangling now turned to quarrels, in which they
+accused one another of being the cause of all their troubles, and it
+was a devil of a job to restore harmony before they all retired for
+the night.
+
+Lantier sensed a crisis coming and it exasperated him to realise that
+this place was already so thoroughly cleaned out that he could see the
+day coming when he'd have to take his hat and seek elsewhere for his
+bed and board. He had become accustomed to this little paradise where
+he was nicely treated by everybody. He should have blamed himself for
+eating himself out of house and home, but instead he blamed the
+Coupeaus for letting themselves be ruined in less than two years. He
+thought Gervaise was too extravagant. What was going to happen to them
+now?
+
+One evening in December they had no dinner at all. There was not a
+radish left. Lantier, who was very glum, went out early, wandering
+about in search of some other den where the smell of the kitchen would
+bring a smile to one's face. He would now remain for hours beside the
+stove wrapt in thought. Then, suddenly, he began to evince a great
+friendship for the Poissons. He no longer teased the policeman and
+even went so far as to concede that the Emperor might not be such a
+bad fellow after all. He seemed to especially admire Virginie. No
+doubt he was hoping to board with them. Virginie having acquainted him
+with her desire to set up in some sort of business, he agreed with
+everything she said, and declared that her idea was a most brilliant
+one. She was just the person for trade--tall, engaging and active. Oh!
+she would make as much as she liked. The capital had been available
+for some time, thanks to an inheritance from an aunt. Lantier told her
+of all the shopkeepers who were making fortunes. The time was right
+for it; you could sell anything these days. Virginie, however,
+hesitated; she was looking for a shop that was to be let, she did not
+wish to leave the neighborhood. Then Lantier would take her into
+corners and converse with her in an undertone for ten minutes at a
+time. He seemed to be urging her to do something in spite of herself;
+and she no longer said "no," but appeared to authorize him to act. It
+was as a secret between them, with winks and words rapidly exchanged,
+some mysterious understanding which betrayed itself even in their
+handshakings.
+
+From this moment the hatter would covertly watch the Coupeaus whilst
+eating their dry bread, and becoming very talkative again, would
+deafen them with his continual jeremiads. All day long Gervaise moved
+in the midst of that poverty which he so obligingly spread out. /Mon
+Dieu!/ he wasn't thinking of himself; he would go on starving with his
+friends as long as they liked. But look at it with common sense. They
+owed at least five hundred francs in the neighborhood. Besides which,
+they were two quarters rent behind with the rent, which meant another
+two hundred and fifty francs; the landlord, Monsieur Marescot, even
+spoke of having them evicted if they did not pay him by the first of
+January. Finally the pawn-place had absorbed everything, one could not
+have got together three francs' worth of odds and ends, the clearance
+had been so complete; the nails remained in the walls and that was all
+and perhaps there were two pounds of them at three sous the pound.
+Gervaise, thoroughly entangled in it all, her nerves quite upset by
+this calculation, would fly into a passion and bang her fists down
+upon the table or else she would end by bursting into tears like a
+fool. One night she exclaimed:
+
+"I'll be off to-morrow! I prefer to put the key under the door and to
+sleep on the pavement rather than continue to live in such frights."
+
+"It would be wiser," said Lantier slyly, "to get rid of the lease if
+you could find someone to take it. When you are both decided to give
+up the shop--"
+
+She interrupted him more violently:
+
+"At once, at once! Ah! it'll be a good riddance!"
+
+Then the hatter became very practical. On giving up the lease one
+would no doubt get the new tenant to be responsible for the two
+overdue quarters. And he ventured to mention the Poissons, he reminded
+them that Virginie was looking for a shop; theirs would perhaps suit
+her. He remembered that he had heard her say she longed for one just
+like it. But when Virginie's name was mentioned the laundress suddenly
+regained her composure. We'll see how things go along. When you're
+angry you always talk of quitting, but it isn't so easy when you just
+stop to think about it.
+
+During the following days it was in vain that Lantier harped upon the
+subject. Gervaise replied that she had seen herself worse off and had
+pulled through. How would she be better off when she no longer had her
+shop? That would not put bread into their mouths. She would, on the
+contrary, engage some fresh workwomen and work up a fresh connection.
+
+Lantier made the mistake of mentioning Virginie again. This stirred
+Gervaise into furious obstinacy. No! Never! She had always had her
+suspicions of what was in Virginie's heart. Virginie only wanted to
+humiliate her. She would rather turn it over to the first woman to
+come in from the street than to that hypocrite who had been waiting
+for years to see her fail. Yes, Virginie still had in mind that fight
+in the wash-house. Well, she'd be wiser to forget about it, unless she
+wanted another one now.
+
+In the face of this flow of angry retorts, Lantier began by attacking
+Gervaise. He called her stupid and stuck-up. He even went so far as to
+abuse Coupeau, accusing him of not knowing how to make his wife
+respect his friend. Then, realising that passion would compromise
+everything, he swore that he would never again interest himself in the
+affairs of other people, for one always got more kicks than thanks;
+and indeed he appeared to have given up all idea of talking them into
+parting with the lease, but he was really watching for a favorable
+opportunity of broaching the subject again and of bringing the
+laundress round to his views.
+
+January had now arrived; the weather was wretched, both damp and cold.
+Mother Coupeau, who had coughed and choked all through December, was
+obliged to take to her bed after Twelfth-night. It was her annuity,
+which she expected every winter. This winter though, those around her
+said she'd never come out of her bedroom except feet first. Indeed,
+her gaspings sounded like a death rattle. She was still fat, but one
+eye was blind and one side of her face was twisted. The doctor made
+one call and didn't return again. They kept giving her tisanes and
+going to check on her every hour. She could no longer speak because
+her breathing was so difficult.
+
+One Monday evening, Coupeau came home totally drunk. Ever since his
+mother was in danger, he had lived in a continual state of deep
+emotion. When he was in bed, snoring soundly, Gervaise walked about
+the place for a while. She was in the habit of watching over mother
+Coupeau during a part of the night. Nana had showed herself very
+brave, always sleeping beside the old woman, and saying that if she
+heard her dying, she would wake everyone. Since the invalid seemed to
+be sleeping peacefully this night, Gervaise finally yielded to the
+appeals of Lantier to come into his room for a little rest. They only
+kept a candle alight, standing on the ground behind the wardrobe. But
+towards three o'clock Gervaise abruptly jumped out of bed, shivering
+and oppressed with anguish. She thought she had felt a cold breath
+pass over her body. The morsel of candle had burnt out; she tied on
+her petticoats in the dark, all bewildered, and with feverish hands.
+It was not till she got into the little room, after knocking up
+against the furniture, that she was able to light a small lamp. In the
+midst of the oppressive silence of night, the zinc-worker's snores
+alone sounded as two grave notes. Nana, stretched on her back, was
+breathing gently between her pouting lips. And Gervaise, holding down
+the lamp which caused big shadows to dance about the room, cast the
+light on mother Coupeau's face, and beheld it all white, the head
+lying on the shoulder, the eyes wide open. Mother Coupeau was dead.
+
+Gently, without uttering a cry, icy cold yet prudent, the laundress
+returned to Lantier's room. He had gone to sleep again. She bent over
+him and murmured:
+
+"Listen, it's all over, she's dead."
+
+Heavy with sleep, only half awake, he grunted at first:
+
+"Leave me alone, get into bed. We can't do her any good if she's
+dead."
+
+Then he raised himself on his elbow and asked:
+
+"What's the time?"
+
+"Three o'clock."
+
+"Only three o'clock! Get into bed quick. You'll catch cold. When it's
+daylight, we'll see what's to be done."
+
+But she did not listen to him, she dressed herself completely.
+Bundling himself in the blankets, Lantier muttered about how stubborn
+women were. What was the hurry to announce a death in the house? He
+was irritated at having his sleep spoiled by such gloomy matters.
+
+Meanwhile, Gervaise had moved her things back into her own room. Then
+she felt free to sit down and cry, no longer fearful of being caught
+in Lantier's room. She had been fond of mother Coupeau and felt a deep
+sorrow at her loss. She sat, crying by herself, her sobs loud in the
+silence, but Coupeau never stirred. She had spoken to him and even
+shaken him and finally decided to let him sleep. He would be more of a
+nuisance if he woke up.
+
+On returning to the body, she found Nana sitting up in bed rubbing her
+eyes. The child understood, and with her vicious urchin's curiosity,
+stretched out her neck to get a better view of her grandmother; she
+said nothing but she trembled slightly, surprised and satisfied in the
+presence of this death which she had been promising herself for two
+days past, like some nasty thing hidden away and forbidden to
+children; and her young cat-like eyes dilated before that white face
+all emaciated at the last gasp by the passion of life, she felt that
+tingling in her back which she felt behind the glass door when she
+crept there to spy on what was no concern of chits like her.
+
+"Come, get up," said her mother in a low voice. "You can't remain
+here."
+
+She regretfully slid out of bed, turning her head round and not taking
+her eyes off the corpse. Gervaise was much worried about her, not
+knowing where to put her till day-time. She was about to tell her to
+dress herself, when Lantier, in his trousers and slippers, rejoined
+her. He could not get to sleep again, and was rather ashamed of his
+behavior. Then everything was arranged.
+
+"She can sleep in my bed," murmured he. "She'll have plenty of room."
+
+Nana looked at her mother and Lantier with her big, clear eyes and put
+on her stupid air, the same as on New Year's day when anyone made her
+a present of a box of chocolate candy. And there was certainly no need
+for them to hurry her. She trotted off in her night-gown, her bare
+feet scarcely touching the tiled floor; she glided like a snake into
+the bed, which was still quite warm, and she lay stretched out and
+buried in it, her slim body scarcely raising the counterpane. Each
+time her mother entered the room she beheld her with her eyes
+sparkling in her motionless face--not sleeping, not moving, very red
+with excitement, and appearing to reflect on her own affairs.
+
+Lantier assisted Gervaise in dressing mother Coupeau--and it was not
+an easy matter, for the body was heavy. One would never have thought
+that that old woman was so fat and so white. They put on her
+stockings, a white petticoat, a short linen jacket and a white cap--in
+short, the best of her linen. Coupeau continued snoring, a high note
+and a low one, the one sharp, the other flat. One could almost have
+imagined it to be church music accompanying the Good Friday
+ceremonies. When the corpse was dressed and properly laid out on the
+bed, Lantier poured himself out a glass of wine, for he felt quite
+upset. Gervaise searched the chest of drawers to find a little brass
+crucifix which she had brought from Plassans, but she recollected that
+mother Coupeau had, in all probability, sold it herself. They had
+lighted the stove, and they passed the rest of the night half asleep
+on chairs, finishing the bottle of wine that had been opened, worried
+and sulking, as though it was their own fault.
+
+Towards seven o'clock, before daylight, Coupeau at length awoke. When
+he learnt his loss he at first stood still with dry eyes, stuttering
+and vaguely thinking that they were playing him some joke. Then he
+threw himself on the ground and went and knelt beside the corpse. His
+kissed it and wept like a child, with such a copious flow of tears
+that he quite wetted the sheet with wiping his cheeks. Gervaise had
+recommenced sobbing, deeply affected by her husband's grief, and the
+best of friends with him again. Yes, he was better at heart than she
+thought he was. Coupeau's despair mingled with a violent pain in his
+head. He passed his fingers through his hair. His mouth was dry, like
+on the morrow of a booze, and he was still a little drunk in spite of
+his ten hours of sleep. And, clenching his fist, he complained aloud.
+/Mon Dieu!/ she was gone now, his poor mother, whom he loved so much!
+Ah! what a headache he had; it would settle him! It was like a wig of
+fire! And now they were tearing out his heart! No, it was not just of
+fate thus to set itself against one man!
+
+"Come, cheer up, old fellow," said Lantier, raising him from the
+ground; "you must pull yourself together."
+
+He poured him out a glass of wine, but Coupeau refused to drink.
+
+"What's the matter with me? I've got copper in my throat. It's mamma.
+When I saw her I got a taste of copper in my mouth. Mamma! /Mon Dieu!/
+mamma, mamma!"
+
+And he recommenced crying like a child. Then he drank the glass of
+wine, hoping to put out the flame searing his breast. Lantier soon
+left, using the excuse of informing the family and filing the
+necessary declaration at the town hall. Really though, he felt the
+need of fresh air, and so he took his time, smoking cigarettes and
+enjoying the morning air. When he left Madame Lerat's house, he went
+into a dairy place on Les Batignolles for a cup of hot coffee and
+remained there an hour, thinking things over.
+
+Towards nine o'clock the family were all united in the shop, the
+shutters of which were kept up. Lorilleux did not cry. Moreover he had
+some pressing work to attend to, and he returned almost directly to
+his room, after having stalked about with a face put on for the
+occasion. Madame Lorilleux and Madame Lerat embraced the Coupeaus and
+wiped their eyes, from which a few tears were falling. But Madame
+Lorilleux, after giving a hasty glance round the death chamber,
+suddenly raised her voice to say that it was unheard of, that one
+never left a lighted lamp beside a corpse; there should be a candle,
+and Nana was sent to purchase a packet of tall ones. Ah, well! It made
+one long to die at Clump-clump's, she laid one out in such a fine
+fashion! What a fool, not even to know what to do with a corpse! Had
+she then never buried anyone in her life? Madame Lerat had to go to
+the neighbors and borrow a crucifix; she brought one back which was
+too big, a cross of black wood with a Christ in painted cardboard
+fastened to it, which covered the whole of mother Coupeau's chest, and
+seemed to crush her under its weight. Then they tried to obtain some
+holy water, but no one had any, and it was again Nana who was sent to
+the church to bring some back in a bottle. In practically no time the
+tiny room presented quite another appearance; on a little table a
+candle was burning beside a glass full of holy water into which a
+sprig of boxwood was dipped. Now, if anyone came, it would at least
+look decent. And they arranged the chairs in a circle in the shop for
+receiving people.
+
+Lantier only returned at eleven o'clock. He had been to the
+undertaker's for information.
+
+"The coffin is twelve francs," said he. "If you desire a mass, it will
+be ten francs more. Then there's the hearse, which is charged for
+according to the ornaments."
+
+"Oh! it's quite unnecessary to be fancy," murmured Madame Lorilleux,
+raising her head in a surprised and anxious manner. "We can't bring
+mamma to life again, can we? One must do according to one's means."
+
+"Of course, that's just what I think," resumed the hatter. "I merely
+asked the prices to guide you. Tell me what you desire; and after
+lunch I will give the orders."
+
+They were talking in lowered voices. Only a dim light came into the
+room through the cracks in the shutters. The door to the little room
+stood half open, and from it came the deep silence of death.
+Children's laughter echoed in the courtyard. Suddenly they heard the
+voice of Nana, who had escaped from the Boches to whom she had been
+sent. She was giving commands in her shrill voice and the children
+were singing a song about a donkey.
+
+Gervaise waited until it was quiet to say:
+
+"We're not rich certainly; but all the same we wish to act decently.
+If mother Coupeau has left us nothing, it's no reason for pitching her
+into the ground like a dog. No; we must have a mass, and a hearse with
+a few ornaments."
+
+"And who will pay for them?" violently inquired Madame Lorilleux. "Not
+we, who lost some money last week; and you either, as you're stumped.
+Ah! you ought, however, to see where it has led you, this trying to
+impress people!"
+
+Coupeau, when consulted, mumbled something with a gesture of profound
+indifference, and then fell asleep again on his chair. Madame Lerat
+said that she would pay her share. She was of Gervaise's opinion, they
+should do things decently. Then the two of them fell to making
+calculations on a piece of paper: in all, it would amount to about
+ninety francs, because they decided, after a long discussion, to have
+a hearse ornamented with a narrow scallop.
+
+"We're three," concluded the laundress. "We'll give thirty francs
+each. It won't ruin us."
+
+But Madame Lorilleux broke out in a fury.
+
+"Well! I refuse, yes, I refuse! It's not for the thirty francs. I'd
+give a hundred thousand, if I had them, and if it would bring mamma to
+life again. Only, I don't like vain people. You've got a shop, you
+only dream of showing off before the neighborhood. We don't fall in
+with it, we don't. We don't try to make ourselves out what we are not.
+Oh! you can manage it to please yourself. Put plumes on the hearse if
+it amuses you."
+
+"No one asks you for anything," Gervaise ended by answering. "Even
+though I should have to sell myself, I'll not have anything to
+reproach myself with. I've fed mother Coupeau without your help, and I
+can certainly bury her without your help also. I already once before
+gave you a bit of my mind; I pick up stray cats, I'm not likely to
+leave your mother in the mire."
+
+Then Madame Lorilleux burst into tears and Lantier had to prevent her
+from leaving. The argument became so noisy that Madame Lerat felt she
+had to go quietly into the little room and glance tearfully at her
+dead mother, as though fearing to find her awake and listening. Just
+at this moment the girls playing in the courtyard, led by Nana, began
+singing again.
+
+"/Mon Dieu!/ how those children grate on one's nerves with their
+singing!" said Gervaise, all upset and on the point of sobbing with
+impatience and sadness. Turning to the hatter, she said:
+
+"Do please make them leave off, and send Nana back to the concierge's
+with a kick."
+
+Madame Lerat and Madame Lorilleux went away to eat lunch, promising to
+return. The Coupeaus sat down to eat a bite without much appetite,
+feeling hesitant about even raising a fork. After lunch Lantier went
+to the undertaker's again with the ninety francs. Thirty had come from
+Madame Lerat and Gervaise had run, with her hair all loose, to borrow
+sixty francs from Goujet.
+
+Several of the neighbors called in the afternoon, mainly out of
+curiosity. They went into the little room to make the sign of the
+cross and sprinkle some holy water with the boxwood sprig. Then they
+sat in the shop and talked endlessly about the departed. Mademoiselle
+Remanjou had noticed that her right eye was still open. Madame Gaudron
+maintained that she had a fine complexion for her age. Madame
+Fauconnier kept repeating that she had seen her having coffee only
+three days earlier.
+
+Towards evening the Coupeaus were beginning to have had enough of it.
+It was too great an affliction for a family to have to keep a corpse
+so long a time. The government ought to have made a new law on the
+subject. All through another evening, another night, and another
+morning--no! it would never come to an end. When one no longer weeps,
+grief turns to irritation; is it not so? One would end by misbehaving
+oneself. Mother Coupeau, dumb and stiff in the depths of the narrow
+chamber, was spreading more and more over the lodging and becoming
+heavy enough to crush the people in it. And the family, in spite of
+itself, gradually fell into the ordinary mode of life, and lost some
+portion of its respect.
+
+"You must have a mouthful with us," said Gervaise to Madame Lerat and
+Madame Lorilleux, when they returned. "We're too sad; we must keep
+together."
+
+They laid the cloth on the work-table. Each one, on seeing the plates,
+thought of the feastings they had had on it. Lantier had returned.
+Lorilleux came down. A pastry-cook had just brought a meat pie, for
+the laundress was too upset to attend to any cooking. As they were
+taking their seats, Boche came to say that Monsieur Marescot asked to
+be admitted, and the landlord appeared, looking very grave, and
+wearing a broad decoration on his frock-coat. He bowed in silence and
+went straight to the little room, where he knelt down. All the family,
+leaving the table, stood up, greatly impressed. Monsieur Marescot,
+having finished his devotions, passed into the shop and said to the
+Coupeaus:
+
+"I have come for the two quarters' rent that's overdue. Are you
+prepared to pay?"
+
+"No, sir, not quite," stammered Gervaise, greatly put out at hearing
+this mentioned before the Lorilleuxs. "You see, with the misfortune
+which has fallen upon us--"
+
+"No doubt, but everyone has their troubles," resumed the landlord,
+spreading out his immense fingers, which indicated the former workman.
+"I am very sorry, but I cannot wait any longer. If I am not paid by
+the morning after to-morrow, I shall be obliged to have you put out."
+
+Gervaise, struck dumb, imploringly clasped her hands, her eyes full of
+tears. With an energetic shake of his big bony head, he gave her to
+understand that supplications were useless. Besides, the respect due
+to the dead forbade all discussion. He discreetly retired, walking
+backwards.
+
+"A thousand pardons for having disturbed you," murmured he. "The
+morning after to-morrow; do not forget."
+
+And as on withdrawing he again passed before the little room, he
+saluted the corpse a last time through the wide open door by devoutly
+bending his knee.
+
+They began eating and gobbled the food down very quickly, so as not to
+seem to be enjoying it, only slowing down when they reached the
+dessert. Occasionally Gervaise or one of the sisters would get up,
+still holding her napkin, to look into the small room. They made
+plenty of strong coffee to keep them awake through the night. The
+Poissons arrived about eight and were invited for coffee.
+
+Then Lantier, who had been watching Gervaise's face, seemed to seize
+an opportunity that he had been waiting for ever since the morning. In
+speaking of the indecency of landlords who entered houses of mourning
+to demand their money, he said:
+
+"He's a Jesuit, the beast, with his air of officiating at a mass! But
+in your place, I'd just chuck up the shop altogether."
+
+Gervaise, quite worn out and feeling weak and nervous, gave way and
+replied:
+
+"Yes, I shall certainly not wait for the bailiffs. Ah! it's more than
+I can bear--more than I can bear."
+
+The Lorilleuxs, delighted at the idea that Clump-clump would no longer
+have a shop, approved the plan immensely. One could hardly conceive
+the great cost a shop was. If she only earned three francs working for
+others she at least had no expenses; she did not risk losing large
+sums of money. They repeated this argument to Coupeau, urging him on;
+he drank a great deal and remained in a continuous fit of sensibility,
+weeping all day by himself in his plate. As the laundress seemed to be
+allowing herself to be convinced, Lantier looked at the Poissons and
+winked. And tall Virginie intervened, making herself most amiable.
+
+"You know, we might arrange the matter between us. I would relieve you
+of the rest of the lease and settle your matter with the landlord. In
+short, you would not be worried nearly so much."
+
+"No thanks," declared Gervaise, shaking herself as though she felt a
+shudder pass over her. "I'll work; I've got my two arms, thank heaven!
+to help me out of my difficulties."
+
+"We can talk about it some other time," the hatter hastened to put in.
+"It's scarcely the thing to do so this evening. Some other time--in
+the morning for instance."
+
+At this moment, Madame Lerat, who had gone into the little room,
+uttered a faint cry. She had had a fright because she had found the
+candle burnt out. They all busied themselves in lighting another; they
+shook their heads, saying that it was not a good sign when the light
+went out beside a corpse.
+
+The wake commenced. Coupeau had gone to lie down, not to sleep, said
+he, but to think; and five minutes afterwards he was snoring. When
+they sent Nana off to sleep at the Boches' she cried; she had been
+looking forward ever since the morning to being nice and warm in her
+good friend Lantier's big bed. The Poissons stayed till midnight. Some
+hot wine had been made in a salad-bowl because the coffee affected the
+ladies' nerves too much. The conversation became tenderly effusive.
+Virginie talked of the country: she would like to be buried at the
+corner of a wood with wild flowers on her grave. Madame Lerat had
+already put by in her wardrobe the sheet for her shroud, and she kept
+it perfumed with a bunch of lavender; she wished always to have a nice
+smell under her nose when she would be eating the dandelions by the
+roots. Then, with no sort of transition, the policeman related that he
+had arrested a fine girl that morning who had been stealing from a
+pork-butcher's shop; on undressing her at the commissary of police's
+they had found ten sausages hanging round her body. And Madame
+Lorilleux having remarked, with a look of disgust, that she would not
+eat any of those sausages, the party burst into a gentle laugh. The
+wake became livelier, though not ceasing to preserve appearances.
+
+But just as they were finishing the hot wine a peculiar noise, a dull
+trickling sound, issued from the little room. All raised their heads
+and looked at each other.
+
+"It's nothing," said Lantier quietly, lowering his voice. "She's
+emptying."
+
+The explanation caused the others to nod their heads in a reassured
+way, and they replaced their glasses on the table.
+
+When the Poissons left for home, Lantier left also, saying he would
+sleep with a friend and leave his bed for the ladies in case they
+wanted to take turns napping. Lorilleux went upstairs to bed. Gervaise
+and the two sisters arranged themselves by the stove where they
+huddled together close to the warmth, talking quietly. Coupeau was
+still snoring.
+
+Madame Lorilleux was complaining that she didn't have a black dress
+and asked Gervaise about the black skirt they had given mother Coupeau
+on her saint's day. Gervaise went to look for it. Madame Lorilleux
+then wanted some of the old linen and mentioned the bed, the wardrobe,
+and the two chairs as she looked around for other odds and ends.
+Madame Lerat had to serve as peace maker when a quarrel nearly broke
+out. She pointed out that as the Coupeaus had cared for their mother,
+they deserved to keep the few things she had left. Soon they were all
+dozing around the stove.
+
+The night seemed terribly long to them. Now and again they shook
+themselves, drank some coffee and stretched their necks in the
+direction of the little room, where the candle, which was not to be
+snuffed, was burning with a dull red flame, flickering the more
+because of the black soot on the wick. Towards morning, they shivered,
+in spite of the great heat of the stove. Anguish, and the fatigue of
+having talked too much was stifling them, whilst their mouths were
+parched, and their eyes ached. Madame Lerat threw herself on Lantier's
+bed, and snored as loud as a man; whilst the other two, their heads
+falling forward, and almost touching their knees, slept before the
+fire. At daybreak, a shudder awoke them. Mother Coupeau's candle had
+again gone out; and as, in the obscurity, the dull trickling sound
+recommenced, Madame Lorilleux gave the explanation of it anew in a
+loud voice, so as to reassure herself:
+
+"She's emptying," repeated she, lighting another candle.
+
+The funeral was to take place at half-past ten. A nice morning to add
+to the night and the day before! Gervaise, though without a sou, said
+she would have given a hundred francs to anybody who would have come
+and taken mother Coupeau away three hours sooner. No, one may love
+people, but they are too great a weight when they are dead; and the
+more one has loved them, the sooner one would like to be rid of their
+bodies.
+
+The morning of a funeral is, fortunately, full of diversions. One has
+all sorts of preparations to make. To begin with, they lunched. Then
+it happened to be old Bazouge, the undertaker's helper, who lived on
+the sixth floor, who brought the coffin and the sack of bran. He was
+never sober, the worthy fellow. At eight o'clock that day, he was
+still lively from the booze of the day before.
+
+"This is for here, isn't it?" asked he.
+
+And he laid down the coffin, which creaked like a new box. But as he
+was throwing the sack of bran on one side, he stood with a look of
+amazement in his eyes, his mouth opened wide, on beholding Gervaise
+before him.
+
+"Beg pardon, excuse me. I've made a mistake," stammered he. "I was
+told it was for you."
+
+He had already taken up the sack again, and the laundress was obliged
+to call to him:
+
+"Leave it alone, it's for here."
+
+"Ah! /Mon Dieu!/ Now I understand!" resumed he, slapping his thigh.
+"It's for the old lady."
+
+Gervaise had turned quite pale. Old Bazouge had brought the coffin for
+her. By way of apology, he tried to be gallant, and continued:
+
+"I'm not to blame, am I? It was said yesterday that someone on the
+ground floor had passed away. Then I thought--you know, in our
+business, these things enter by one ear and go out by the other. All
+the same, my compliments to you. As late as possible, eh? That's best,
+though life isn't always amusing; ah! no, by no means."
+
+As Gervaise listened to him, she draw back, afraid he would grab her
+and take her away in the box. She remembered the time before, when he
+had told her he knew of women who would thank him to come and get
+them. Well, she wasn't ready yet. /Mon Dieu!/ The thought sent chills
+down her spine. Her life may have been bitter, but she wasn't ready to
+give it up yet. No, she would starve for years first.
+
+"He's abominably drunk," murmured she, with an air of disgust mingled
+with dread. "They at least oughtn't to send us tipplers. We pay dear
+enough."
+
+Then he became insolent, and jeered:
+
+"See here, little woman, it's only put off until another time. I'm
+entirely at your service, remember! You've only to make me a sign. I'm
+the ladies' consoler. And don't spit on old Bazouge, because he's held
+in his arms finer ones than you, who let themselves be tucked in
+without a murmur, very pleased to continue their by-by in the dark."
+
+"Hold your tongue, old Bazouge!" said Lorilleux severely, having
+hastened to the spot on hearing the noise, "such jokes are highly
+improper. If we complained about you, you would get the sack. Come, be
+off, as you've no respect for principles."
+
+Bazouge moved away, but one could hear him stuttering as he dragged
+along the pavement:
+
+"Well! What? Principles! There's no such thing as principles, there's
+no such thing as principles--there's only common decency!"
+
+At length ten o'clock struck. The hearse was late. There were already
+several people in the shop, friends and neighbors--Monsieur Madinier,
+My-Boots, Madame Gaudron, Mademoiselle Remanjou; and every minute, a
+man's or a woman's head was thrust out of the gaping opening of the
+door between the closed shutters, to see if that creeping hearse was
+in sight. The family, all together in the back room, was shaking
+hands. Short pauses occurred interrupted by rapid whisperings, a
+tiresome and feverish waiting with sudden rushes of skirts--Madame
+Lorilleux who had forgotten her handkerchief, or else Madame Lerat who
+was trying to borrow a prayer-book. Everyone, on arriving, beheld the
+open coffin in the centre of the little room before the bed; and in
+spite of oneself, each stood covertly studying it, calculating that
+plump mother Coupeau would never fit into it. They all looked at each
+other with this thought in their eyes, though without communicating
+it. But there was a slight pushing at the front door. Monsieur
+Madinier, extending his arms, came and said in a low grave voice:
+
+"Here they are!"
+
+It was not the hearse though. Four helpers entered hastily in single
+file, with their red faces, their hands all lumpy like persons in the
+habit of moving heavy things, and their rusty black clothes worn and
+frayed from constant rubbing against coffins. Old Bazouge walked
+first, very drunk and very proper. As soon as he was at work he found
+his equilibrium. They did not utter a word, but slightly bowed their
+heads, already weighing mother Coupeau with a glance. And they did not
+dawdle; the poor old woman was packed in, in the time one takes to
+sneeze. A young fellow with a squint, the smallest of the men, poured
+the bran into the coffin and spread it out. The tall and thin one
+spread the winding sheet over the bran. Then, two at the feet and two
+at the head, all four took hold of the body and lifted it. Mother
+Coupeau was in the box, but it was a tight fit. She touched on every
+side.
+
+The undertaker's helpers were now standing up and waiting; the little
+one with the squint took the coffin lid, by way of inviting the family
+to bid their last farewell, whilst Bazouge had filled his mouth with
+nails and was holding the hammer in readiness. Then Coupeau, his two
+sisters and Gervaise threw themselves on their knees and kissed the
+mamma who was going away, weeping bitterly, the hot tears falling on
+and streaming down the stiff face now cold as ice. There was a
+prolonged sound of sobbing. The lid was placed on, and old Bazouge
+knocked the nails in with the style of a packer, two blows for each;
+and they none of them could hear any longer their own weeping in that
+din, which resembled the noise of furniture being repaired. It was
+over. The time for starting had arrived.
+
+"What a fuss to make at such a time!" said Madame Lorilleux to her
+husband as she caught sight of the hearse before the door.
+
+The hearse was creating quite a revolution in the neighborhood. The
+tripe-seller called to the grocer's men, the little clockmaker came
+out on to the pavement, the neighbors leant out of their windows; and
+all these people talked about the scallop with its white cotton
+fringe. Ah! the Coupeaus would have done better to have paid their
+debts. But as the Lorilleuxs said, when one is proud it shows itself
+everywhere and in spite of everything.
+
+"It's shameful!" Gervaise was saying at the same moment, speaking of
+the chainmaker and his wife. "To think that those skinflints have not
+even brought a bunch of violets for their mother!"
+
+The Lorilleuxs, true enough, had come empty-handed. Madame Lerat had
+given a wreath of artificial flowers. And a wreath of immortelles and
+a bouquet bought by the Coupeaus were also placed on the coffin. The
+undertaker's helpers had to give a mighty heave to lift the coffin and
+carry it to the hearse. It was some time before the procession was
+formed. Coupeau and Lorilleux, in frock coats and with their hats in
+their hands, were chief mourners. The first, in his emotion which two
+glasses of white wine early in the morning had helped to sustain,
+clung to his brother-in-law's arm, with no strength in his legs, and a
+violent headache. Then followed the other men--Monsieur Madinier, very
+grave and all in black; My-Boots, wearing a great-coat over his
+blouse; Boche, whose yellow trousers produced the effect of a petard;
+Lantier, Gaudron, Bibi-the-Smoker, Poisson and others. The ladies came
+next--in the first row Madame Lorilleux, dragging the deceased's
+skirt, which she had altered; Madame Lerat, hiding under a shawl her
+hastily got-up mourning, a gown with lilac trimmings; and following
+them, Virginie, Madame Gaudron, Madame Fauconnier, Mademoiselle
+Remanjou and the rest. When the hearse started and slowly descended
+the Rue de la Goutte-d'Or, amidst signs of the cross and heads bared,
+the four helpers took the lead, two in front, the two others on the
+right and left. Gervaise had remained behind to close the shop. She
+left Nana with Madame Boche and ran to rejoin the procession, whilst
+the child, firmly held by the concierge under the porch, watched with
+a deeply interested gaze her grandmother disappear at the end of the
+street in that beautiful carriage.
+
+At the moment when Gervaise caught up with the procession, Goujet
+arrived from another direction. He nodded to her so sympathetically
+that she was reminded of how unhappy she was, and began to cry again
+as Goujet took his place with the men.
+
+The ceremony at the church was soon got through. The mass dragged a
+little, though, because the priest was very old. My-Boots and Bibi-
+the-Smoker preferred to remain outside on account of the collection.
+Monsieur Madinier studied the priests all the while, and communicated
+his observations to Lantier. Those jokers, though so glib with their
+Latin, did not even know a word of what they were saying. They buried
+a person just in the same way that they would have baptized or married
+him, without the least feeling in their heart.
+
+Happily, the cemetery was not far off, the little cemetery of La
+Chapelle, a bit of a garden which opened on to the Rue Marcadet. The
+procession arrived disbanded, with stampings of feet and everybody
+talking of his own affairs. The hard earth resounded, and many would
+have liked to have moved about to keep themselves warm. The gaping
+hole beside which the coffin was laid was already frozen over, and
+looked white and stony, like a plaster quarry; and the followers,
+grouped round little heaps of gravel, did not find it pleasant
+standing in such piercing cold, whilst looking at the hole likewise
+bored them. At length a priest in a surplice came out of a little
+cottage. He shivered, and one could see his steaming breath at each
+/de profundis/ that he uttered. At the final sign of the cross he
+bolted off, without the least desire to go through the service again.
+The sexton took his shovel, but on account of the frost, he was only
+able to detach large lumps of earth, which beat a fine tune down
+below, a regular bombardment of the coffin, an enfilade of artillery
+sufficient to make one think the wood was splitting. One may be a
+cynic; nevertheless that sort of music soon upsets one's stomach. The
+weeping recommenced. They moved off, they even got outside, but they
+still heard the detonations. My-Boots, blowing on his fingers, uttered
+an observation aloud.
+
+"/Tonnerre de Dieu!/ poor mother Coupeau won't feel very warm!"
+
+"Ladies and gentlemen," said the zinc-worker to the few friends who
+remained in the street with the family, "will you permit us to offer
+you some refreshments?"
+
+He led the way to a wine shop in the Rue Marcadet, the "Arrival at the
+Cemetery." Gervaise, remaining outside, called Goujet, who was moving
+off, after again nodding to her. Why didn't he accept a glass of wine?
+He was in a hurry; he was going back to the workshop. Then they looked
+at each other a moment without speaking.
+
+"I must ask your pardon for troubling you about the sixty francs," at
+length murmured the laundress. "I was half crazy, I thought of you--"
+
+"Oh! don't mention it; you're fully forgiven," interrupted the
+blacksmith. "And you know, I am quite at your service if any
+misfortune should overtake you. But don't say anything to mamma,
+because she has her ideas, and I don't wish to cause her annoyance."
+
+She gazed at him. He seemed to her such a good man, and sad-looking,
+and so handsome. She was on the verge of accepting his former
+proposal, to go away with him and find happiness together somewhere
+else. Then an evil thought came to her. It was the idea of borrowing
+the six months' back rent from him.
+
+She trembled and resumed in a caressing tone of voice:
+
+"We're still friends, aren't we?"
+
+He shook his head as he answered:
+
+"Yes, we'll always be friends. It's just that, you know, all is over
+between us."
+
+And he went off with long strides, leaving Gervaise bewildered,
+listening to his last words which rang in her ears with the clang of a
+big bell. On entering the wine shop, she seemed to hear a hollow voice
+within her which said, "All is over, well! All is over; there is
+nothing more for me to do if all is over!" Sitting down, she swallowed
+a mouthful of bread and cheese, and emptied a glass full of wine which
+she found before her.
+
+The wine shop was a single, long room with a low ceiling occupied by
+two large tables on which loaves of bread, large chunks of Brie cheese
+and bottles of wine were set out. They ate informally, without a
+tablecloth. Near the stove at the back the undertaker's helpers were
+finishing their lunch.
+
+"/Mon Dieu!/" exclaimed Monsieur Madinier, "we each have our time. The
+old folks make room for the young ones. Your lodging will seem very
+empty to you now when you go home."
+
+"Oh! my brother is going to give notice," said Madame Lorilleux
+quickly. "That shop's ruined."
+
+They had been working upon Coupeau. Everyone was urging him to give up
+the lease. Madame Lerat herself, who had been on very good terms with
+Lantier and Virginie for some time past, and who was tickled with the
+idea that they were a trifle smitten with each other, talked of
+bankruptcy and prison, putting on the most terrified airs. And
+suddenly, the zinc-worker, already overdosed with liquor, flew into a
+passion, his emotion turned to fury.
+
+"Listen," cried he, poking his nose in his wife's face; "I intend that
+you shall listen to me! Your confounded head will always have its own
+way. But, this time, I intend to have mine, I warn you!"
+
+"Ah! well," said Lantier, "one never yet brought her to reason by fair
+words; it wants a mallet to drive it into her head."
+
+For a time they both went on at her. Meanwhile, the Brie was quickly
+disappearing and the wine bottles were pouring like fountains.
+Gervaise began to weaken under this persistent pounding. She answered
+nothing, but hurried herself, her mouth ever full, as though she had
+been very hungry. When they got tired, she gently raised her head and
+said,
+
+"That's enough, isn't it? I don't care a straw for the shop! I want no
+more of it. Do you understand? It can go to the deuce! All is over!"
+
+Then they ordered some more bread and cheese and talked business. The
+Poissons took the rest of the lease and agreed to be answerable for
+the two quarters' rent overdue. Boche, moreover, pompously agreed to
+the arrangement in the landlord's name. He even then and there let a
+lodging to the Coupeaus--the vacant one on the sixth floor, in the
+same passage as the Lorilleuxs' apartment. As for Lantier, well! He
+would like to keep his room, if it did not inconvenience the Poissons.
+The policeman bowed; it did not inconvenience him at all; friends
+always get on together, in spite of any difference in their political
+ideas. And Lantier, without mixing himself up any more in the matter,
+like a man who has at length settled his little business, helped
+himself to an enormous slice of bread and cheese; he leant back in his
+chair and ate devoutly, his blood tingling beneath his skin, his whole
+body burning with a sly joy, and he blinked his eyes to peep first at
+Gervaise, and then at Virginie.
+
+"Hi! Old Bazouge!" called Coupeau, "come and have a drink. We're not
+proud; we're all workers."
+
+The four undertaker's helpers, who had started to leave, came back to
+raise glasses with the group. They thought that the lady had weighed
+quite a bit and they had certainly earned a glass of wine. Old Bazouge
+gazed steadily at Gervaise without saying a word. It made her feel
+uneasy though and she got up and left the men who were beginning to
+show signs of being drunk. Coupeau began to sob again, saying he was
+feeling very sad.
+
+That evening when Gervaise found herself at home again, she remained
+in a stupefied state on a chair. It seemed to her that the rooms were
+immense and deserted. Really, it would be a good riddance. But it was
+certainly not only mother Coupeau that she had left at the bottom of
+the hole in the little garden of the Rue Marcadet. She missed too many
+things, most likely a part of her life, and her shop, and her pride of
+being an employer, and other feelings besides, which she had buried on
+that day. Yes, the walls were bare, and her heart also; it was a
+complete clear out, a tumble into the pit. And she felt too tired; she
+would pick herself up again later on if she could.
+
+At ten o'clock, when undressing, Nana cried and stamped. She wanted to
+sleep in mother Coupeau's bed. Her mother tried to frighten her; but
+the child was too precocious. Corpses only filled her with a great
+curiosity; so that, for the sake of peace, she was allowed to lie down
+in mother Coupeau's place. She liked big beds, the chit; she spread
+herself out and rolled about. She slept uncommonly well that night in
+the warm and pleasant feather bed.
+
+
+
+                              CHAPTER X
+
+The Coupeaus' new lodging was on the sixth floor, staircase B. After
+passing Mademoiselle Remanjou's door, you took the corridor to the
+left, and then turned again further along. The first door was for the
+apartment of the Bijards. Almost opposite, in an airless corner under
+a small staircase leading to the roof, was where Pere Bru slept. Two
+doors further was Bazouge's room and the Coupeaus were opposite him,
+overlooking the court, with one room and a closet. There were only two
+more doors along the corridor before reaching that of the Lorilleuxs
+at the far end.
+
+A room and a closet, no more. The Coupeaus perched there now. And the
+room was scarcely larger than one's hand. And they had to do
+everything in there--eat, sleep, and all the rest. Nana's bed just
+squeezed into the closet; she had to dress in her father and mother's
+room, and her door was kept open at night-time so that she should not
+be suffocated. There was so little space that Gervaise had left many
+things in the shop for the Poissons. A bed, a table, and four chairs
+completely filled their new apartment but she didn't have the courage
+to part with her old bureau and so it blocked off half the window.
+This made the room dark and gloomy, especially since one shutter was
+stuck shut. Gervaise was now so fat that there wasn't room for her in
+the limited window space and she had to lean sideways and crane her
+neck if she wanted to see the courtyard.
+
+During the first few days, the laundress would continually sit down
+and cry. It seemed to her too hard, not being able to move about in
+her home, after having been used to so much room. She felt stifled;
+she remained at the window for hours, squeezed between the wall and
+the drawers and getting a stiff neck. It was only there that she could
+breathe freely. However, the courtyard inspired rather melancholy
+thoughts. Opposite her, on the sunny side, she would see that same
+window she had dreamed about long ago where the spring brought scarlet
+vines. Her own room was on the shady side where pots of mignonette
+died within a week. Oh, this wasn't at all the sort of life she had
+dreamed of. She had to wallow in filth instead of having flowers all
+about her.
+
+On leaning out one day, Gervaise experienced a peculiar sensation: she
+fancied she beheld herself down below, near the concierge's room under
+the porch, her nose in the air, and examining the house for the first
+time; and this leap thirteen years backwards caused her heart to
+throb. The courtyard was a little dingier and the walls more stained,
+otherwise it hadn't changed much. But she herself felt terribly
+changed and worn. To begin with, she was no longer below, her face
+raised to heaven, feeling content and courageous and aspiring to a
+handsome lodging. She was right up under the roof, among the most
+wretched, in the dirtiest hole, the part that never received a ray of
+sunshine. And that explained her tears; she could scarcely feel
+enchanted with her fate.
+
+However, when Gervaise had grown somewhat used to it, the early days
+of the little family in their new home did not pass off so badly. The
+winter was almost over, and the trifle of money received for the
+furniture sold to Virginie helped to make things comfortable. Then
+with the fine weather came a piece of luck, Coupeau was engaged to
+work in the country at Etampes; and he was there for nearly three
+months without once getting drunk, cured for a time by the fresh air.
+One has no idea what a quench it is to the tippler's thirst to leave
+Paris where the very streets are full of the fumes of wine and brandy.
+On his return he was as fresh as a rose, and he brought back in his
+pocket four hundred francs with which they paid the two overdue
+quarters' rent at the shop that the Poissons had become answerable
+for, and also the most pressing of their little debts in the
+neighborhood. Gervaise thus opened two or three streets through which
+she had not passed for a long time.
+
+She had naturally become an ironer again. Madame Fauconnier was quite
+good-hearted if you flattered her a bit, and she was happy to take
+Gervaise back, even paying her the same three francs a day as her best
+worker. This was out of respect for her former status as an employer.
+The household seemed to be getting on well and Gervaise looked forward
+to the day when all the debts would be paid. Hard work and economy
+would solve all their money troubles. Unfortunately, she dreamed of
+this in the warm satisfaction of the large sum earned by her husband.
+Soon, she said that the good things never lasted and took things as
+they came.
+
+What the Coupeaus most suffered from at that time was seeing the
+Poissons installing themselves at their former shop. They were not
+naturally of a particularly jealous disposition, but people aggravated
+them by purposely expressing amazement in their presence at the
+embellishments of their successors. The Boches and the Lorilleuxs
+especially, never tired. According to them, no one had ever seen so
+beautiful a shop. They were also continually mentioning the filthy
+state in which the Poissons had found the premises, saying that it had
+cost thirty francs for the cleaning alone.
+
+After much deliberation, Virginie had decided to open a shop
+specializing in candies, chocolate, coffee and tea. Lantier had
+advised this, saying there was much money to be made from such
+delicacies. The shop was stylishly painted black with yellow stripes.
+Three carpenters worked for eight days on the interior, putting up
+shelves, display cases and counters. Poisson's small inheritance must
+have been almost completely used, but Virginie was ecstatic. The
+Lorilleuxs and the Boches made sure that Gervaise did not miss a
+single improvement and chuckled to themselves while watching her
+expression.
+
+There was also a question of a man beneath all this. It was reported
+that Lantier had broken off with Gervaise. The neighborhood declared
+that it was quite right. In short, it gave a moral tone to the street.
+And all the honor of the separation was accorded to the crafty hatter
+on whom all the ladies continued to dote. Some said that she was still
+crazy about him and he had to slap her to make her leave him alone. Of
+course, no one told the actual truth. It was too simple and not
+interesting enough.
+
+Actually Lantier climbed to the sixth floor to see her whenever he
+felt the impulse. Mademoiselle Remanjou had often seen him coming out
+of the Coupeaus' at odd hours.
+
+The situation was even more complicated by neighborhood gossip linking
+Lantier and Virginie. The neighbors were a bit too hasty in this also;
+he had not even reached the stage of buttock-pinching with her. Still,
+the Lorilleuxs delighted in talking sympathetically to Gervaise about
+the affair between Lantier and Virginie. The Boches maintained they
+had never seen a more handsome couple. The odd thing in all this was
+that the Rue de la Goutte-d'Or seemed to have no objection to this new
+arrangement which everyone thought was progressing nicely. Those who
+had been so harsh to Gervaise were now quite lenient toward Virginie.
+
+Gervaise had previously heard numerous reports about Lantier's affairs
+with all sorts of girls on the street and they had bothered her so
+little that she hadn't even felt enough resentment to break off the
+affair. However, this new intrigue with Virginie wasn't quite so easy
+to accept because she was sure that the two of them were just out to
+spite her. She hid her resentment though to avoid giving any
+satisfaction to her enemies. Mademoiselle Remanjou thought that
+Gervaise had words with Lantier over this because one afternoon she
+heard the sound of a slap. There was certainly a quarrel because
+Lantier stopped speaking to Gervaise for a couple of weeks, but then
+he was the first one to make up and things seemed to go along the same
+as before.
+
+Coupeau found all this most amusing. The complacent husband who had
+been blind to his own situation laughed heartily at Poisson's
+predicament. Then Coupeau even teased Gervaise. Her lovers always
+dropped her. First the blacksmith and now the hatmaker. The trouble
+was that she got involved with undependable trades. She should take up
+with a mason, a good solid man. He said such things as if he were
+joking, but they upset Gervaise because his small grey eyes seemed to
+be boring right into her.
+
+On evenings when Coupeau became bored being alone with his wife up in
+their tiny hole under the roof, he would go down for Lantier and
+invite him up. He thought their dump was too dreary without Lantier's
+company so he patched things up between Gervaise and Lantier whenever
+they had a falling out.
+
+In the midst of all this Lantier put on the most consequential airs.
+He showed himself both paternal and dignified. On three successive
+occasions he had prevented a quarrel between the Coupeaus and the
+Poissons. The good understanding between the two families formed a
+part of his contentment. Thanks to the tender though firm glances with
+which he watched over Gervaise and Virginie, they always pretended to
+entertain a great friendship for each other. He reigned over both
+blonde and brunette with the tranquillity of a pasha, and fattened on
+his cunning. The rogue was still digesting the Coupeaus when he
+already began to devour the Poissons. Oh, it did not inconvenience him
+much! As soon as one shop was swallowed, he started on a second. It
+was only men of his sort who ever have any luck.
+
+It was in June of that year that Nana was confirmed. She was then
+nearly thirteen years old, as tall as an asparagus shoot run to seed,
+and had a bold, impudent air about her. The year before she had been
+sent away from the catechism class on account of her bad behavior;
+and the priest had only allowed her to join it this time through fear
+of losing her altogether, and of casting one more heathen onto the
+street. Nana danced for joy as she thought of the white dress. The
+Lorilleuxs, being godfather and godmother, had promised to provide it,
+and took care to let everyone in the house know of their present.
+Madame Lerat was to give the veil and the cap, Virginie the purse, and
+Lantier the prayer-book; so that the Coupeaus looked forward to the
+ceremony without any great anxiety. Even the Poissons, wishing to give
+a house-warming, chose this occasion, no doubt on the hatter's advice.
+They invited the Coupeaus and the Boches, whose little girl was also
+going to be confirmed. They provided a leg of mutton and trimmings for
+the evening in question.
+
+It so happened that on the evening before, Coupeau returned home in a
+most abominable condition, just as Nana was lost in admiration before
+the presents spread out on the top of the chest of drawers. The Paris
+atmosphere was getting the better of him again; and he fell foul of
+his wife and child with drunken arguments and disgusting language
+which no one should have uttered at such a time. Nana herself was
+beginning to get hold of some very bad expressions in the midst of the
+filthy conversations she was continually hearing. On the days when
+there was a row, she would often call her mother an old camel and a
+cow.
+
+"Where's my food?" yelled the zinc-worker. "I want my soup, you couple
+of jades! There's females for you, always thinking of finery! I'll sit
+on the gee-gaws, you know, if I don't get my soup!"
+
+"He's unbearable when he's drunk," murmured Gervaise, out of patience;
+and turning towards him, she exclaimed:
+
+"It's warming up, don't bother us."
+
+Nana was being modest, because she thought it nice on such a day. She
+continued to look at the presents on the chest of drawers, affectedly
+lowering her eyelids and pretending not to understand her father's
+naughty words. But the zinc-worker was an awful plague on the nights
+when he had had too much. Poking his face right against her neck, he
+said:
+
+"I'll give you white dresses! So the finery tickles your fancy. They
+excite your imagination. Just you cut away from there, you ugly little
+brat! Move your hands about, bundle them all into a drawer!"
+
+Nana, with bowed head, did not answer a word. She had taken up the
+little tulle cap and was asking her mother how much it cost. And as
+Coupeau thrust out his hand to seize hold of the cap, it was Gervaise
+who pushed him aside exclaiming:
+
+"Do leave the child alone! She's very good, she's doing no harm."
+
+Then the zinc-worker let out in real earnest.
+
+"Ah! the viragos! The mother and daughter, they make the pair. It's a
+nice thing to go to church just to leer at the men. Dare to say it
+isn't true, little slattern! I'll dress you in a sack, just to disgust
+you, you and your priests. I don't want you to be taught anything
+worse than you know already. /Mon Dieu!/ Just listen to me, both of
+you!"
+
+At this Nana turned round in a fury, whilst Gervaise had to spread out
+her arms to protect the things which Coupeau talked of tearing. The
+child looked her father straight in the face; then, forgetting the
+modest bearing inculcated by her confessor, she said, clinching her
+teeth: "Pig!"
+
+As soon as the zinc-worker had had his soup he went off to sleep. On
+the morrow he awoke in a very good humor. He still felt a little of
+the booze of the day before but only just sufficient to make him
+amiable. He assisted at the dressing of the child, deeply affected by
+the white dress and finding that a mere nothing gave the little vermin
+quite the look of a young lady.
+
+The two families started off together for the church. Nana and Pauline
+walked first, their prayer-books in their hands and holding down their
+veils on account of the wind; they did not speak but were bursting
+with delight at seeing people come to their shop-doors, and they
+smiled primly and devoutly every time they heard anyone say as they
+passed that they looked very nice. Madame Boche and Madame Lorilleux
+lagged behind, because they were interchanging their ideas about
+Clump-clump, a gobble-all, whose daughter would never have been
+confirmed if the relations had not found everything for her; yes,
+everything, even a new chemise, out of respect for the holy altar.
+Madame Lorilleux was rather concerned about the dress, calling Nana a
+dirty thing every time the child got dust on her skirt by brushing
+against the store fronts.
+
+At church Coupeau wept all the time. It was stupid but he could not
+help it. It affected him to see the priest holding out his arms and
+all the little girls, looking like angels, pass before him, clasping
+their hands; and the music of the organ stirred up his stomach and the
+pleasant smell of the incense forced him to sniff, the same as though
+someone had thrust a bouquet of flowers into his face. In short he
+saw everything cerulean, his heart was touched. Anyway, other
+sensitive souls around him were wetting their handkerchiefs. This was
+a beautiful day, the most beautiful of his life. After leaving the
+church, Coupeau went for a drink with Lorilleux, who had remained dry-
+eyed.
+
+That evening the Poissons' house-warming was very lively. Friendship
+reigned without a hitch from one end of the feast to the other. When
+bad times arrive one thus comes in for some pleasant evenings, hours
+during which sworn enemies love each other. Lantier, with Gervaise on
+his left and Virginie on his right, was most amiable to both of them,
+lavishing little tender caresses like a cock who desires peace in his
+poultry-yard. But the queens of the feast were the two little ones,
+Nana and Pauline, who had been allowed to keep on their things; they
+sat bolt upright through fear of spilling anything on their white
+dresses and at every mouthful they were told to hold up their chins so
+as to swallow cleanly. Nana, greatly bored by all this fuss, ended by
+slobbering her wine over the body of her dress, so it was taken off
+and the stains were at once washed out in a glass of water.
+
+Then at dessert the children's future careers were gravely discussed.
+
+Madame Boche had decided that Pauline would enter a shop to learn how
+to punch designs on gold and silver. That paid five or six francs a
+day. Gervaise didn't know yet because Nana had never indicated any
+preference.
+
+"In your place," said Madame Lerat, "I would bring Nana up as an
+artificial flower-maker. It is a pleasant and clean employment."
+
+"Flower-makers?" muttered Lorilleux. "Every one of them might as well
+walk the streets."
+
+"Well, what about me?" objected Madame Lerat, pursing her lips.
+"You're certainly not very polite. I assure you that I don't lie down
+for anyone who whistles."
+
+Then all the rest joined together in hushing her. "Madame Lerat! Oh,
+Madame Lerat!" By side glances they reminded her of the two girls,
+fresh from communion, who were burying their noses in their glasses to
+keep from laughing out loud. The men had been very careful, for
+propriety's sake, to use only suitable language, but Madame Lerat
+refused to follow their example. She flattered herself on her command
+of language, as she had often been complimented on the way she could
+say anything before children, without any offence to decency.
+
+"Just you listen, there are some very fine women among the flower-
+makers!" she insisted. "They're just like other women and they show
+good taste when they choose to commit a sin."
+
+"/Mon Dieu!/" interrupted Gervaise, "I've no dislike for artificial
+flower-making. Only it must please Nana, that's all I care about; one
+should never thwart children on the question of a vocation. Come Nana,
+don't be stupid; tell me now, would you like to make flowers?"
+
+The child was leaning over her plate gathering up the cake crumbs with
+her wet finger, which she afterwards sucked. She did not hurry
+herself. She grinned in her vicious way.
+
+"Why yes, mamma, I should like to," she ended by declaring.
+
+Then the matter was at once settled. Coupeau was quite willing that
+Madame Lerat should take the child with her on the morrow to the place
+where she worked in the Rue du Caire. And they all talked very gravely
+of the duties of life. Boche said that Nana and Pauline were women now
+that they had partaken of communion. Poisson added that for the future
+they ought to know how to cook, mend socks and look after a house.
+Something was even said of their marrying, and of the children they
+would some day have. The youngsters listened, laughing to themselves,
+elated by the thought of being women. What pleased them the most was
+when Lantier teased them, asking if they didn't already have little
+husbands. Nana eventually admitted that she cared a great deal for
+Victor Fauconnier, son of her mother's employer.
+
+"Ah well," said Madame Lorilleux to the Boches, as they were all
+leaving, "she's our goddaughter, but as they're going to put her into
+artificial flower-making, we don't wish to have anything more to do
+with her. Just one more for the boulevards. She'll be leading them a
+merry chase before six months are over."
+
+On going up to bed, the Coupeaus agreed that everything had passed off
+well and that the Poissons were not at all bad people. Gervaise even
+considered the shop was nicely got up. She was surprised to discover
+that it hadn't pained her at all to spend an evening there. While Nana
+was getting ready for bed she contemplated her white dress and asked
+her mother if the young lady on the third floor had had one like it
+when she was married last month.
+
+This was their last happy day. Two years passed by, during which they
+sank deeper and deeper. The winters were especially hard for them. If
+they had bread to eat during the fine weather, the rain and cold came
+accompanied by famine, by drubbings before the empty cupboard, and by
+dinner-hours with nothing to eat in the little Siberia of their
+larder. Villainous December brought numbing freezing spells and the
+black misery of cold and dampness.
+
+The first winter they occasionally had a fire, choosing to keep warm
+rather than to eat. But the second winter, the stove stood mute with
+its rust, adding a chill to the room, standing there like a cast-iron
+gravestone. And what took the life out of their limbs, what above all
+utterly crushed them was the rent. Oh! the January quarter, when there
+was not a radish in the house and old Boche came up with the bill! It
+was like a bitter storm, a regular tempest from the north. Monsieur
+Marescot then arrived the following Saturday, wrapped up in a good
+warm overcoat, his big hands hidden in woolen gloves; and he was for
+ever talking of turning them out, whilst the snow continued to fall
+outside, as though it were preparing a bed for them on the pavement
+with white sheets. To have paid the quarter's rent they would have
+sold their very flesh. It was the rent which emptied the larder and
+the stove.
+
+No doubt the Coupeaus had only themselves to blame. Life may be a hard
+fight, but one always pulls through when one is orderly and economical
+--witness the Lorilleuxs, who paid their rent to the day, the money
+folded up in bits of dirty paper. But they, it is true, led a life of
+starved spiders, which would disgust one with hard work. Nana as yet
+earned nothing at flower-making; she even cost a good deal for her
+keep. At Madame Fauconnier's Gervaise was beginning to be looked down
+upon. She was no longer so expert. She bungled her work to such an
+extent that the mistress had reduced her wages to two francs a day,
+the price paid to the clumsiest bungler. But she was still proud,
+reminding everyone of her former status as boss of her own shop. When
+Madame Fauconnier hired Madame Putois, Gervaise was so annoyed at
+having to work beside her former employee that she stayed away for two
+weeks.
+
+As for Coupeau, he did perhaps work, but in that case he certainly
+made a present of his labor to the Government, for since the time he
+returned from Etampes Gervaise had never seen the color of his money.
+She no longer looked in his hands when he came home on paydays. He
+arrived swinging his arms, his pockets empty, and often without his
+handkerchief; well, yes, he had lost his rag, or else some rascally
+comrade had sneaked it. At first he always fibbed; there was a
+donation to charity, or some money slipped through the hole in his
+pocket, or he paid off some imaginary debts. Later, he didn't even
+bother to make up anything. He had nothing left because it had all
+gone into his stomach.
+
+Madame Boche suggested to Gervaise that she go to wait for him at the
+shop exit. This rarely worked though, because Coupeau's comrades would
+warn him and the money would disappear into his shoe or someone else's
+pocket.
+
+Yes, it was their own fault if every season found them lower and
+lower. But that's the sort of thing one never tells oneself,
+especially when one is down in the mire. They accused their bad luck;
+they pretended that fate was against them. Their home had become a
+regular shambles where they wrangled the whole day long. However, they
+had not yet come to blows, with the exception of a few impulsive
+smacks, which somehow flew about at the height of their quarrels. The
+saddest part of the business was that they had opened the cage of
+affection; all their better feelings had taken flight, like so many
+canaries. The genial warmth of father, mother and child, when united
+together and wrapped up in each other, deserted them, and left them
+shivering, each in his or her own corner. All three--Coupeau, Gervaise
+and Nana--were always in the most abominable tempers, biting each
+other's noses off for nothing at all, their eyes full of hatred; and
+it seemed as though something had broken the mainspring of the family,
+the mechanism which, with happy people, causes hearts to beat in
+unison. Ah! it was certain Gervaise was no longer moved as she used to
+be when she saw Coupeau at the edge of a roof forty or fifty feet
+above the pavement. She would not have pushed him off herself, but if
+he had fallen accidentally, in truth it would have freed the earth of
+one who was of but little account. The days when they were more
+especially at enmity she would ask him why he didn't come back on a
+stretcher. She was awaiting it. It would be her good luck they were
+bringing back to her. What use was he--that drunkard? To make her
+weep, to devour all she possessed, to drive her to sin. Well! Men so
+useless as he should be thrown as quickly as possible into the hole
+and the polka of deliverance be danced over them. And when the mother
+said "Kill him!" the daughter responded "Knock him on the head!" Nana
+read all of the reports of accidents in the newspapers, and made
+reflections that were unnatural for a girl. Her father had such good
+luck an omnibus had knocked him down without even sobering him. Would
+the beggar never croak?
+
+In the midst of her own poverty Gervaise suffered even more because
+other families around her were also starving to death. Their corner of
+the tenement housed the most wretched. There was not a family that ate
+every day.
+
+Gervaise felt the most pity for Pere Bru in his cubbyhole under the
+staircase where he hibernated. Sometimes he stayed on his bed of straw
+without moving for days. Even hunger no longer drove him out since
+there was no use taking a walk when no one would invite him to dinner.
+Whenever he didn't show his face for several days, the neighbors would
+push open his door to see if his troubles were over. No, he was still
+alive, just barely. Even Death seemed to have neglected him. Whenever
+Gervaise had any bread she gave him the crusts. Even when she hated
+all men because of her husband, she still felt sincerely sorry for
+Pere Bru, the poor old man. They were letting him starve to death
+because he could no longer hold tools in his hand.
+
+The laundress also suffered a great deal from the close neighborhood
+of Bazouge, the undertaker's helper. A simple partition, and a very
+thin one, separated the two rooms. He could not put his fingers down
+his throat without her hearing it. As soon as he came home of an
+evening she listened, in spite of herself, to everything he did. His
+black leather hat laid with a dull thud on the chest of drawers, like
+a shovelful of earth; the black cloak hung up and rustling against the
+walls like the wings of some night bird; all the black toggery flung
+into the middle of the room and filling it with the trappings of
+mourning. She heard him stamping about, felt anxious at the least
+movement, and was quite startled if he knocked against the furniture
+or rattled any of his crockery. This confounded drunkard was her
+preoccupation, filling her with a secret fear mingled with a desire to
+know. He, jolly, his belly full every day, his head all upside down,
+coughed, spat, sang "Mother Godichon," made use of many dirty
+expressions and fought with the four walls before finding his
+bedstead. And she remained quite pale, wondering what he could be
+doing in there. She imagined the most atrocious things. She got into
+her head that he must have brought a corpse home, and was stowing it
+away under his bedstead. Well! the newspapers had related something of
+the kind--an undertaker's helper who collected the coffins of little
+children at his home, so as to save himself trouble and to make only
+one journey to the cemetery.
+
+For certain, directly Bazouge arrived, a smell of death seemed to
+permeate the partition. One might have thought oneself lodging against
+the Pere Lachaise cemetery, in the midst of the kingdom of moles. He
+was frightful, the animal, continually laughing all by himself, as
+though his profession enlivened him. Even when he had finished his
+rumpus and had laid himself on his back, he snored in a manner so
+extraordinary that it caused the laundress to hold her breath. For
+hours she listened attentively, with an idea that funerals were
+passing through her neighbor's room.
+
+The worst was that, in spite of her terrors, something incited
+Gervaise to put her ear to the wall, the better to find out what was
+taking place. Bazouge had the same effect on her as handsome men have
+on good women: they would like to touch them. Well! if fear had not
+kept her back, Gervaise would have liked to have handled death, to see
+what it was like. She became so peculiar at times, holding her breath,
+listening attentively, expecting to unravel the secret through one of
+Bazouge's movements, that Coupeau would ask her with a chuckle if she
+had a fancy for that gravedigger next door. She got angry and talked
+of moving, the close proximity of this neighbor was so distasteful to
+her; and yet, in spite of herself, as soon as the old chap arrived,
+smelling like a cemetery, she became wrapped again in her reflections,
+with the excited and timorous air of a wife thinking of passing a
+knife through the marriage contract. Had he not twice offered to pack
+her up and carry her off with him to some place where the enjoyment of
+sleep is so great, that in a moment one forgets all one's
+wretchedness? Perhaps it was really very pleasant. Little by little
+the temptation to taste it became stronger. She would have liked to
+have tried it for a fortnight or a month. Oh! to sleep a month,
+especially in winter, the month when the rent became due, when the
+troubles of life were killing her! But it was not possible--one must
+sleep forever, if one commences to sleep for an hour; and the thought
+of this froze her, her desire for death departed before the eternal
+and stern friendship which the earth demanded.
+
+However, one evening in January she knocked with both her fists
+against the partition. She had passed a frightful week, hustled by
+everyone, without a sou, and utterly discouraged. That evening she was
+not at all well, she shivered with fever, and seemed to see flames
+dancing about her. Then, instead of throwing herself out of the
+window, as she had at one moment thought of doing, she set to knocking
+and calling:
+
+"Old Bazouge! Old Bazouge!"
+
+The undertaker's helper was taking off his shoes and singing, "There
+were three lovely girls." He had probably had a good day, for he
+seemed even more maudlin than usual.
+
+"Old Bazouge! Old Bazouge!" repeated Gervaise, raising her voice.
+
+Did he not hear her then? She was ready to give herself at once; he
+might come and take her on his neck, and carry her off to the place
+where he carried his other women, the poor and the rich, whom he
+consoled. It pained her to hear his song, "There were three lovely
+girls," because she discerned in it the disdain of a man with too many
+sweethearts.
+
+"What is it? what is it?" stuttered Bazouge; "who's unwell? We're
+coming, little woman!"
+
+But the sound of this husky voice awoke Gervaise as though from a
+nightmare. And a feeling of horror ascended from her knees to her
+shoulders at the thought of seeing herself lugged along in the old
+fellow's arms, all stiff and her face as white as a china plate.
+
+"Well! is there no one there now?" resumed Bazouge in silence. "Wait a
+bit, we're always ready to oblige the ladies."
+
+"It's nothing, nothing," said the laundress at length in a choking
+voice. "I don't require anything, thanks."
+
+She remained anxious, listening to old Bazouge grumbling himself to
+sleep, afraid to stir for fear he would think he heard her knocking
+again.
+
+In her corner of misery, in the midst of her cares and the cares of
+others, Gervaise had, however, a beautiful example of courage in the
+home of her neighbors, the Bijards. Little Lalie, only eight years old
+and no larger than a sparrow, took care of the household as
+competently as a grown person. The job was not an easy one because she
+had two little tots, her brother Jules and her sister Henriette, aged
+three and five, to watch all day long while sweeping and cleaning.
+
+Ever since Bijard had killed his wife with a kick in the stomach,
+Lalie had become the little mother of them all. Without saying a word,
+and of her own accord, she filled the place of one who had gone, to
+the extent that her brute of a father, no doubt to complete the
+resemblance, now belabored the daughter as he had formerly belabored
+the mother. Whenever he came home drunk, he required a woman to
+massacre. He did not even notice that Lalie was quite little; he would
+not have beaten some old trollop harder. Little Lalie, so thin it made
+you cry, took it all without a word of complaint in her beautiful,
+patient eyes. Never would she revolt. She bent her neck to protect her
+face and stifled her sobs so as not to alarm the neighbors. When her
+father got tired of kicking her, she would rest a bit until she got
+her strength back and then resume her work. It was part of her job,
+being beaten daily.
+
+Gervaise entertained a great friendship for her little neighbor. She
+treated her as an equal, as a grown-up woman of experience. It must be
+said that Lalie had a pale and serious look, with the expression of an
+old girl. One might have thought her thirty on hearing her speak. She
+knew very well how to buy things, mend the clothes, attend to the
+home, and she spoke of the children as though she had already gone
+through two or thee nurseries in her time. It made people smile to
+hear her talk thus at eight years old; and then a lump would rise in
+their throats, and they would hurry away so as not to burst out
+crying. Gervaise drew the child towards her as much as she could, gave
+her all she could spare of food and old clothing. One day as she tried
+one of Nana's old dresses on her, she almost choked with anger on
+seeing her back covered with bruises, the skin off her elbow, which
+was still bleeding, and all her innocent flesh martyred and sticking
+to her bones. Well! Old Bazouge could get a box ready; she would not
+last long at that rate! But the child had begged the laundress not to
+say a word. She would not have her father bothered on her account. She
+took his part, affirming that he would not have been so wicked if it
+had not been for the drink. He was mad, he did not know what he did.
+Oh! she forgave him, because one ought to forgive madmen everything.
+
+From that time Gervaise watched and prepared to interfere directly she
+heard Bijard coming up the stairs. But on most of the occasions she
+only caught some whack for her trouble. When she entered their room in
+the day-time, she often found Lalie tied to the foot of the iron
+bedstead; it was an idea of the locksmith's, before going out, to tie
+her legs and her body with some stout rope, without anyone being able
+to find out why--a mere whim of a brain diseased by drink, just for
+the sake, no doubt, of maintaining his tyranny over the child when he
+was no longer there. Lalie, as stiff as a stake, with pins and needles
+in her legs, remained whole days at the post. She once even passed a
+night there, Bijard having forgotten to come home. Whenever Gervaise,
+carried away by her indignation, talked of unfastening her, she
+implored her not to disturb the rope, because her father became
+furious if he did not find the knots tied the same way he had left
+them. Really, it wasn't so bad, it gave her a rest. She smiled as she
+said this though her legs were swollen and bruised. What upset her the
+most was that she couldn't do her work while tied to the bed. She
+could watch the children though, and even did some knitting, so as not
+to entirely waste the time.
+
+The locksmith had thought of another little game too. He heated sous
+in the frying pan, then placed them on a corner of the mantle-piece;
+and he called Lalie, and told her to fetch a couple of pounds of
+bread. The child took up the sous unsuspectingly, uttered a cry and
+threw them on the ground, shaking her burnt hand. Then he flew into a
+fury. Who had saddled him with such a piece of carrion? She lost the
+money now! And he threatened to beat her to a jelly if she did not
+pick the sous up at once. When the child hesitated she received the
+first warning, a clout of such force that it made her see thirty-six
+candles. Speechless and with two big tears in the corners of her eyes,
+she would pick up the sous and go off, tossing them in the palm of her
+hand to cool them.
+
+No, one could never imagine the ferocious ideas which may sprout from
+the depths of a drunkard's brain. One afternoon, for instance, Lalie
+having made everything tidy was playing with the children. The window
+was open, there was a draught, and the wind blowing along the passage
+gently shook the door.
+
+"It's Monsieur Hardy," the child was saying. "Come in, Monsieur Hardy.
+Pray have the kindness to walk in."
+
+And she curtsied before the door, she bowed to the wind. Henriette and
+Jules, behind her, also bowed, delighted with the game and splitting
+their sides with laughing, as though being tickled. She was quite rosy
+at seeing them so heartily amused and even found some pleasure in it
+on her own account, which generally only happened to her on the
+thirty-sixth day of each month.
+
+"Good day, Monsieur Hardy. How do you do, Monsieur Hardy?"
+
+But a rough hand pushed open the door, and Bijard entered. Then the
+scene changed. Henriette and Jules fell down flat against the wall;
+whilst Lalie, terrified, remained standing in the very middle of the
+curtsey. The locksmith held in his hand a big waggoner's whip, quite
+new, with a long white wooden handle, and a leather thong, terminating
+with a bit of whip-cord. He placed the whip in the corner against the
+bed and did not give the usual kick to the child who was already
+preparing herself by presenting her back. A chuckle exposed his
+blackened teeth and he was very lively, very drunk, his red face
+lighted up by some idea that amused him immensely.
+
+"What's that?" said he. "You're playing the deuce, eh, you confounded
+young hussy! I could hear you dancing about from downstairs. Now then,
+come here! Nearer and full face. I don't want to sniff you from
+behind. Am I touching you that you tremble like a mass of giblets?
+Take my shoes off."
+
+Lalie turned quite pale again and, amazed at not receiving her usual
+drubbing, took his shoes off. He had seated himself on the edge of the
+bed. He lay down with his clothes on and remained with his eyes open,
+watching the child move about the room. She busied herself with one
+thing and another, gradually becoming bewildered beneath his glance,
+her limbs overcome by such a fright that she ended by breaking a cup.
+Then, without getting off the bed, he took hold of the whip and showed
+it to her.
+
+"See, little chickie, look at this. It's a present for you. Yes, it's
+another fifty sous you've cost me. With this plaything I shall no
+longer be obliged to run after you, and it'll be no use you getting
+into the corners. Will you have a try? Ah! you broke a cup! Now then,
+gee up! Dance away, make your curtsies to Monsieur Hardy!"
+
+He did not even raise himself but lay sprawling on his back, his head
+buried in his pillow, making the big whip crack about the room with
+the noise of a postillion starting his horses. Then, lowering his arm
+he lashed Lalie in the middle of the body, encircling her with the
+whip and unwinding it again as though she were a top. She fell and
+tried to escape on her hands and knees; but lashing her again he
+jerked her to her feet.
+
+"Gee up, gee up!" yelled he. "It's the donkey race! Eh, it'll be fine
+of a cold morning in winter. I can lie snug without getting cold or
+hurting my chilblains and catch the calves from a distance. In that
+corner there, a hit, you hussy! And in that other corner, a hit again!
+And in that one, another hit. Ah! if you crawl under the bed I'll
+whack you with the handle. Gee up, you jade! Gee up! Gee up!"
+
+A slight foam came to his lips, his yellow eyes were starting from
+their black orbits. Lalie, maddened, howling, jumped to the four
+corners of the room, curled herself up on the floor and clung to the
+walls; but the lash at the end of the big whip caught her everywhere,
+cracking against her ears with the noise of fireworks, streaking her
+flesh with burning weals. A regular dance of the animal being taught
+its tricks. This poor kitten waltzed. It was a sight! Her heels in the
+air like little girls playing at skipping, and crying "Father!" She
+was all out of breath, rebounding like an india-rubber ball, letting
+herself be beaten, unable to see or any longer to seek a refuge. And
+her wolf of a father triumphed, calling her a virago, asking her if
+she had had enough and whether she understood sufficiently that she
+was in future to give up all hope of escaping from him.
+
+But Gervaise suddenly entered the room, attracted by the child's
+howls. On beholding such a scene she was seized with a furious
+indignation.
+
+"Ah! you brute of a man!" cried she. "Leave her alone, you brigand!
+I'll put the police on to you."
+
+Bijard growled like an animal being disturbed, and stuttered:
+
+"Mind your own business a bit, Limper. Perhaps you'd like me to put
+gloves on when I stir her up. It's merely to warm her, as you can
+plainly see--simply to show her that I've a long arm."
+
+And he gave a final lash with the whip which caught Lalie across the
+face. The upper lip was cut, the blood flowed. Gervaise had seized a
+chair, and was about to fall on to the locksmith; but the child held
+her hands towards her imploringly, saying that it was nothing and that
+it was all over. She wiped away the blood with the corner of her apron
+and quieted the babies, who were sobbing bitterly, as though they had
+received all the blows.
+
+Whenever Gervaise thought of Lalie, she felt she had no right to
+complain for herself. She wished she had as much patient courage as
+the little girl who was only eight years old and had to endure more
+than the rest of the women on their staircase put together. She had
+seen Lalie living on stale bread for months and growing thinner and
+weaker. Whenever she smuggled some remnants of meat to Lalie, it
+almost broke her heart to see the child weeping silently and nibbling
+it down only by little bits because her throat was so shrunken.
+Gervaise looked on Lalie as a model of suffering and forgiveness and
+tried to learn from her how to suffer in silence.
+
+In the Coupeau household the vitriol of l'Assommoir was also
+commencing its ravages. Gervaise could see the day coming when her
+husband would get a whip like Bijard's to make her dance.
+
+Yes, Coupeau was spinning an evil thread. The time was past when a
+drink would make him feel good. His unhealthy soft fat of earlier
+years had melted away and he was beginning to wither and turn a leaden
+grey. He seemed to have a greenish tint like a corpse putrefying in a
+pond. He no longer had a taste for food, not even the most beautifully
+prepared stew. His stomach would turn and his decayed teeth refuse to
+touch it. A pint a day was his daily ration, the only nourishment he
+could digest. When he awoke in the mornings he sat coughing and
+spitting up bile for at least a quarter of an hour. It never failed,
+you might as well have the basin ready. He was never steady on his
+pins till after his first glass of consolation, a real remedy, the
+fire of which cauterized his bowels; but during the day his strength
+returned. At first he would feel a tickling sensation, a sort of pins-
+and-needles in his hands and feet; and he would joke, relating that
+someone was having a lark with him, that he was sure his wife put
+horse-hair between the sheets. Then his legs would become heavy, the
+tickling sensation would end by turning into the most abominable
+cramps, which gripped his flesh as though in a vise. That though did
+not amuse him so much. He no longer laughed; he stopped suddenly on
+the pavement in a bewildered way with a ringing in his ears and his
+eyes blinded with sparks. Everything appeared to him to be yellow; the
+houses danced and he reeled about for three seconds with the fear of
+suddenly finding himself sprawling on the ground. At other times,
+while the sun was shining full on his back, he would shiver as though
+iced water had been poured down his shoulders. What bothered him the
+most was a slight trembling of both his hands; the right hand
+especially must have been guilty of some crime, it suffered from so
+many nightmares. /Mon Dieu!/ was he then no longer a man? He was
+becoming an old woman! He furiously strained his muscles, he seized
+hold of his glass and bet that he would hold it perfectly steady as
+with a hand of marble; but in spite of his efforts the glass danced
+about, jumped to the right, jumped to the left with a hurried and
+regular trembling movement. Then in a fury he emptied it into his
+gullet, yelling that he would require dozens like it, and afterwards
+he undertook to carry a cask without so much as moving a finger.
+Gervaise, on the other hand, told him to give up drink if he wished to
+cease trembling, and he laughed at her, emptying quarts until he
+experienced the sensation again, flying into a rage and accusing the
+passing omnibuses of shaking up his liquor.
+
+In the month of March Coupeau returned home one evening soaked
+through. He had come with My-Boots from Montrouge, where they had
+stuffed themselves full of eel soup, and he had received the full
+force of the shower all the way from the Barriere des Fourneaux to the
+Barriere Poissonniere, a good distance. During the night he was seized
+with a confounded fit of coughing. He was very flushed, suffering from
+a violent fever and panting like a broken bellows. When the Boches'
+doctor saw him in the morning and listened against his back he shook
+his head, and drew Gervaise aside to advise her to have her husband
+taken to the hospital. Coupeau was suffering from pneumonia.
+
+Gervaise did not worry herself, you may be sure. At one time she would
+have been chopped into pieces before trusting her old man to the saw-
+bones. After the accident in the Rue de la Nation she had spent their
+savings in nursing him. But those beautiful sentiments don't last when
+men take to wallowing in the mire. No, no; she did not intend to make
+a fuss like that again. They might take him and never bring him back;
+she would thank them heartily. Yet, when the litter arrived and
+Coupeau was put into it like an article of furniture, she became all
+pale and bit her lips; and if she grumbled and still said it was a
+good job, her heart was no longer in her words. Had she but ten francs
+in her drawer she would not have let him go.
+
+She accompanied him to the Lariboisiere Hospital, saw the nurses put
+him to bed at the end of a long hall, where the patients in a row,
+looking like corpses, raised themselves up and followed with their
+eyes the comrade who had just been brought in. It was a veritable
+death chamber. There was a suffocating, feverish odor and a chorus of
+coughing. The long hall gave the impression of a small cemetery with
+its double row of white beds looking like an aisle of marble tombs.
+When Coupeau remained motionless on his pillow, Gervaise left, having
+nothing to say, nor anything in her pocket that could comfort him.
+
+Outside, she turned to look up at the monumental structure of the
+hospital and recalled the days when Coupeau was working there, putting
+on the zinc roof, perched up high and singing in the sun. He wasn't
+drinking in those days. She used to watch for him from her window in
+the Hotel Boncoeur and they would both wave their handkerchiefs in
+greeting. Now, instead of being on the roof like a cheerful sparrow,
+he was down below. He had built his own place in the hospital where he
+had come to die. /Mon Dieu!/ It all seemed so far way now, that time
+of young love.
+
+On the day after the morrow, when Gervaise called to obtain news of
+him, she found the bed empty. A Sister of Charity told her that they
+had been obliged to remove her husband to the Asylum of Sainte-Anne,
+because the day before he had suddenly gone wild. Oh! a total leave-
+taking of his senses; attempts to crack his skull against the wall;
+howls which prevented the other patients from sleeping. It all came
+from drink, it seemed. Gervaise went home very upset. Well, her
+husband had gone crazy. What would it be like if he came home? Nana
+insisted that they should leave him in the hospital because he might
+end by killing both of them.
+
+Gervaise was not able to go to Sainte-Anne until Sunday. It was a
+tremendous journey. Fortunately, the omnibus from the Boulevard
+Rochechouart to La Glaciere passed close to the asylum. She went down
+the Rue de la Sante, buying two oranges on her way, so as not to
+arrive empty-handed. It was another monumental building, with grey
+courtyards, interminable corridors and a smell of rank medicaments,
+which did not exactly inspire liveliness. But when they had admitted
+her into a cell she was quite surprised to see Coupeau almost jolly.
+He was just then seated on the throne, a spotlessly clean wooden case,
+and they both laughed at her finding him in this position. Well, one
+knows what an invalid is. He squatted there like a pope with his cheek
+of earlier days. Oh! he was better, as he could do this.
+
+"And the pneumonia?" inquired the laundress.
+
+"Done for!" replied he. "They cured it in no time. I still cough a
+little, but that's all that is left of it."
+
+Then at the moment of leaving the throne to get back into his bed, he
+joked once more. "It's lucky you have a strong nose and are not
+bothered."
+
+They laughed louder than ever. At heart they felt joyful. It was by
+way of showing their contentment without a host of phrases that they
+thus joked together. One must have had to do with patients to know the
+pleasure one feels at seeing all their functions at work again.
+
+When he was back in bed she gave him the two oranges and this filled
+him with emotion. He was becoming quite nice again ever since he had
+had nothing but tisane to drink. She ended by venturing to speak to
+him about his violent attack, surprised at hearing him reason like in
+the good old times.
+
+"Ah, yes," said he, joking at his own expense; "I talked a precious
+lot of nonsense! Just fancy, I saw rats and ran about on all fours to
+put a grain of salt under their tails. And you, you called to me, men
+were trying to kill you. In short, all sorts of stupid things, ghosts
+in broad daylight. Oh! I remember it well, my noodle's still solid.
+Now it's over, I dream a bit when I'm asleep. I have nightmares, but
+everyone has nightmares."
+
+Gervaise remained with him until the evening. When the house surgeon
+came, at the six o'clock inspection, he made him spread his hands;
+they hardly trembled at all, scarcely a quiver at the tips of the
+fingers. However, as night approached, Coupeau was little by little
+seized with uneasiness. He twice sat up in bed looking on the ground
+and in the dark corners of the room. Suddenly he thrust out an arm and
+appeared to crush some vermin against the wall.
+
+"What is it?" asked Gervaise, frightened.
+
+"The rats! The rats!" murmured he.
+
+Then, after a pause, gliding into sleep, he tossed about, uttering
+disconnected phrases.
+
+"/Mon Dieu!/ they're tearing my skin!--Oh! the filthy beasts!--Keep
+steady! Hold your skirts right round you! beware of the dirty bloke
+behind you!--/Mon Dieu!/ she's down and the scoundrels laugh!--
+Scoundrels! Blackguards! Brigands!"
+
+He dealt blows into space, caught hold of his blanket and rolled it
+into a bundle against his chest, as though to protect the latter from
+the violence of the bearded men whom he beheld. Then, an attendant
+having hastened to the spot, Gervaise withdrew, quite frozen by the
+scene.
+
+But when she returned a few days later, she found Coupeau completely
+cured. Even the nightmares had left him; he could sleep his ten hours
+right off as peacefully as a child and without stirring a limb. So his
+wife was allowed to take him away. The house surgeon gave him the
+usual good advice on leaving and advised him to follow it. If he
+recommenced drinking, he would again collapse and would end by dying.
+Yes, it solely depended upon himself. He had seen how jolly and
+healthy one could become when one did not get drunk. Well, he must
+continue at home the sensible life he had led at Sainte-Anne, fancy
+himself under lock and key and that dram-shops no longer existed.
+
+"The gentleman's right," said Gervaise in the omnibus which was taking
+them back to the Rue de la Goutte-d'Or.
+
+"Of course he's right," replied Coupeau.
+
+Then, after thinking a minute, he resumed:
+
+"Oh! you know, a little glass now and again can't kill a man; it helps
+the digestion."
+
+And that very evening he swallowed a glass of bad spirit, just to keep
+his stomach in order. For eight days he was pretty reasonable. He was
+a great coward at heart; he had no desire to end his days in the
+Bicetre mad-house. But his passion got the better of him; the first
+little glass led him, in spite of himself, to a second, to a third and
+to a fourth, and at the end of a fortnight, he had got back to his old
+ration, a pint of vitriol a day. Gervaise, exasperated, could have
+beaten him. To think that she had been stupid enough to dream once
+more of leading a worthy life, just because she had seen him at the
+asylum in full possession of his good sense! Another joyful hour had
+flown, the last one no doubt! Oh! now, as nothing could reclaim him,
+not even the fear of his near death, she swore she would no longer put
+herself out; the home might be all at sixes and sevens, she did not
+care any longer; and she talked also of leaving him.
+
+Then hell upon earth recommenced, a life sinking deeper into the mire,
+without a glimmer of hope for something better to follow. Nana,
+whenever her father clouted her, furiously asked why the brute was not
+at the hospital. She was awaiting the time when she would be earning
+money, she would say, to treat him to brandy and make him croak
+quicker. Gervaise, on her side, flew into a passion one day that
+Coupeau was regretting their marriage. Ah! she had brought him her
+saucy children; ah! she had got herself picked up from the pavement,
+wheedling him with rosy dreams! /Mon Dieu!/ he had a rare cheek! So
+many words, so many lies. She hadn't wished to have anything to do
+with him, that was the truth. He had dragged himself at her feet to
+make her give way, whilst she was advising him to think well what he
+was about. And if it was all to come over again, he would hear how she
+would just say "no!" She would sooner have an arm cut off. Yes, she'd
+had a lover before him; but a woman who has had a lover, and who is a
+worker, is worth more than a sluggard of a man who sullies his honor
+and that of his family in all the dram-shops. That day, for the first
+time, the Coupeaus went in for a general brawl, and they whacked each
+other so hard that an old umbrella and the broom were broken.
+
+Gervaise kept her word. She sank lower and lower; she missed going to
+her work oftener, spent whole days in gossiping, and became as soft as
+a rag whenever she had a task to perform. If a thing fell from her
+hands, it might remain on the floor; it was certainly not she who
+would have stooped to pick it up. She took her ease about everything,
+and never handled a broom except when the accumulation of filth almost
+brought her to the ground. The Lorilleuxs now made a point of holding
+something to their noses whenever they passed her room; the stench was
+poisonous, said they. Those hypocrites slyly lived at the end of the
+passage, out of the way of all these miseries which filled the corner
+of the house with whimpering, locking themselves in so as not to have
+to lend twenty sou pieces. Oh! kind-hearted folks, neighbors awfully
+obliging! Yes, you may be sure! One had only to knock and ask for a
+light or a pinch of salt or a jug of water, one was certain of getting
+the door banged in one's face. With all that they had vipers' tongues.
+They protested everywhere that they never occupied themselves with
+other people. This was true whenever it was a question of assisting a
+neighbor; but they did so from morning to night, directly they had a
+chance of pulling any one to pieces. With the door bolted and a rug
+hung up to cover the chinks and the key-hole, they would treat
+themselves to a spiteful gossip without leaving their gold wire for a
+moment.
+
+The fall of Clump-clump in particular kept them purring like pet cats.
+Completely ruined! Not a sou remaining. They smiled gleefully at the
+small piece of bread she would bring back when she went shopping and
+kept count of the days when she had nothing at all to eat. And the
+clothes she wore now. Disgusting rags! That's what happened when one
+tried to live high.
+
+Gervaise, who had an idea of the way in which they spoke of her, would
+take her shoes off, and place her ear against their door; but the rug
+over the door prevented her from hearing much. She was heartily sick
+of them; she continued to speak to them, to avoid remarks, though
+expecting nothing but unpleasantness from such nasty persons, but no
+longer having strength even to give them as much as they gave her,
+passed the insults off as a lot of nonsense. And besides she only
+wanted her own pleasure, to sit in a heap twirling her thumbs, and
+only moving when it was a question of amusing herself, nothing more.
+
+One Saturday Coupeau had promised to take her to the circus. It was
+well worth while disturbing oneself to see ladies galloping along on
+horses and jumping through paper hoops. Coupeau had just finished a
+fortnight's work, he could well spare a couple of francs; and they had
+also arranged to dine out, just the two of them, Nana having to work
+very late that evening at her employer's because of some pressing
+order. But at seven o'clock there was no Coupeau; at eight o'clock it
+was still the same. Gervaise was furious. Her drunkard was certainly
+squandering his earnings with his comrades at the dram-shops of the
+neighborhood. She had washed a cap and had been slaving since the
+morning over the holes of an old dress, wishing to look decent. At
+last, towards nine o'clock, her stomach empty, her face purple with
+rage, she decided to go down and look for Coupeau.
+
+"Is it your husband you want?" called Madame Boche, on catching sight
+of Gervaise looking very glum. "He's at Pere Colombe's. Boche has just
+been having some cherry brandy with him."
+
+Gervaise uttered her thanks and stalked stiffly along the pavement
+with the determination of flying at Coupeau's eyes. A fine rain was
+falling which made the walk more unpleasant still. But when she
+reached l'Assommoir, the fear of receiving the drubbing herself if
+she badgered her old man suddenly calmed her and made her prudent. The
+shop was ablaze with the lighted gas, the flames of which were as
+brilliant as suns, and the bottles and jars illuminated the walls with
+their colored glass. She stood there an instant stretching her neck,
+her eyes close to the window, looking between two bottle placed there
+for show, watching Coupeau who was right at the back; he was sitting
+with some comrades at a little zinc table, all looking vague and blue
+in the tobacco smoke; and, as one could not hear them yelling, it
+created a funny effect to see them gesticulating with their chins
+thrust forward and their eyes starting out of their heads. Good
+heavens! Was it really possible that men could leave their wives and
+their homes to shut themselves up thus in a hole where they were
+choking?
+
+The rain trickled down her neck; she drew herself up and went off to
+the exterior Boulevard, wrapped in thought and not daring to enter.
+Ah! well Coupeau would have welcomed her in a pleasant way, he who
+objected to be spied upon! Besides, it really scarcely seemed to her
+the proper place for a respectable woman. Twice she went back and
+stood before the shop window, her eyes again riveted to the glass,
+annoyed at still beholding those confounded drunkards out of the rain
+and yelling and drinking. The light of l'Assommoir was reflected in
+the puddles on the pavement, which simmered with little bubbles caused
+by the downpour. At length she thought she was too foolish, and
+pushing open the door, she walked straight up to the table where
+Coupeau was sitting. After all it was her husband she came for, was it
+not? And she was authorized in doing so, because he had promised to
+take her to the circus that evening. So much the worse! She had no
+desire to melt like a cake of soap out on the pavement.
+
+"Hullo! It's you, old woman!" exclaimed the zinc-worker, half choking
+with a chuckle. "Ah! that's a good joke. Isn't it a good joke now?"
+
+All the company laughed. Gervaise remained standing, feeling rather
+bewildered. Coupeau appeared to her to be in a pleasant humor, so she
+ventured to say:
+
+"You remember, we've somewhere to go. We must hurry. We shall still be
+in time to see something."
+
+"I can't get up, I'm glued, oh! without joking," resumed Coupeau, who
+continued laughing. "Try, just to satisfy yourself; pull my arm with
+all your strength; try it! harder than that, tug away, up with it! You
+see it's that louse Pere Colombe who's screwed me to his seat."
+
+Gervaise had humored him at this game, and when she let go of his arm,
+the comrades thought the joke so good that they tumbled up against one
+another, braying and rubbing their shoulders like donkeys being
+groomed. The zinc-worker's mouth was so wide with laughter that you
+could see right down his throat.
+
+"You great noodle!" said he at length, "you can surely sit down a
+minute. You're better here than splashing about outside. Well, yes; I
+didn't come home as I promised, I had business to attend to. Though
+you may pull a long face, it won't alter matters. Make room, you
+others."
+
+"If madame would accept my knees she would find them softer than the
+seat," gallantly said My-Boots.
+
+Gervaise, not wishing to attract attention, took a chair and sat down
+at a short distance from the table. She looked at what the men were
+drinking, some rotgut brandy which shone like gold in the glasses; a
+little of it had dropped upon the table and Salted-Mouth, otherwise
+Drink-without-Thirst, dipped his finger in it whilst conversing and
+wrote a woman's name--"Eulalie"--in big letters. She noticed that
+Bibi-the-Smoker looked shockingly jaded and thinner than a hundred-
+weight of nails. My-Boot's nose was in full bloom, a regular purple
+Burgundy dahlia. They were all quite dirty, their beards stiff, their
+smocks ragged and stained, their hands grimy with dirt. Yet they were
+still quite polite.
+
+Gervaise noticed a couple of men at the bar. They were so drunk that
+they were spilling the drink down their chins when they thought they
+were wetting their whistles. Fat Pere Colombe was calmly serving round
+after round.
+
+The atmosphere was very warm, the smoke from the pipes ascended in the
+blinding glare of the gas, amidst which it rolled about like dust,
+drowning the customers in a gradually thickening mist; and from this
+cloud there issued a deafening and confused uproar, cracked voices,
+clinking of glasses, oaths and blows sounding like detonations. So
+Gervaise pulled a very wry face, for such a sight is not funny for a
+woman, especially when she is not used to it; she was stifling, with a
+smarting sensation in her eyes, and her head already feeling heavy
+from the alcoholic fumes exhaled by the whole place. Then she suddenly
+experienced the sensation of something more unpleasant still behind
+her back. She turned round and beheld the still, the machine which
+manufactured drunkards, working away beneath the glass roof of the
+narrow courtyard with the profound trepidation of its hellish cookery.
+Of an evening, the copper parts looked more mournful than ever, lit up
+only on their rounded surface with one big red glint; and the shadow
+of the apparatus on the wall at the back formed most abominable
+figures, bodies with tails, monsters opening their jaws as though to
+swallow everyone up.
+
+"Listen, mother Talk-too-much, don't make any of your grimaces!" cried
+Coupeau. "To blazes, you know, with all wet blankets! What'll you
+drink?"
+
+"Nothing, of course," replied the laundress. "I haven't dined yet."
+
+"Well! that's all the more reason for having a glass; a drop of
+something sustains one."
+
+But, as she still retained her glum expression, My-Boots again did the
+gallant.
+
+"Madame probably likes sweet things," murmured he.
+
+"I like men who don't get drunk," retorted she, getting angry. "Yes, I
+like a fellow who brings home his earnings, and who keeps his word
+when he makes a promise."
+
+"Ah! so that's what upsets you?" said the zinc-worker, without ceasing
+to chuckle. "Yes, you want your share. Then, big goose, why do you
+refuse a drink? Take it, it's so much to the good."
+
+She looked at him fixedly, in a grave manner, a wrinkle marking her
+forehead with a black line. And she slowly replied:
+
+"Why, you're right, it's a good idea. That way, we can drink up the
+coin together."
+
+Bibi-the-Smoker rose from his seat to fetch her a glass of anisette.
+She drew her chair up to the table. Whilst she was sipping her
+anisette, a recollection suddenly flashed across her mind, she
+remembered the plum she had taken with Coupeau, near the door, in the
+old days, when he was courting her. At that time, she used to leave
+the juice of fruits preserved in brandy. And now, here was she going
+back to liqueurs. Oh! she knew herself well, she had not two
+thimblefuls of will. One would only have had to have given her a
+walloping across the back to have made her regularly wallow in drink.
+The anisette even seemed to be very good, perhaps rather too sweet and
+slightly sickening. She went on sipping as she listened to Salted-
+Mouth, otherwise Drink-without-Thirst, tell of his affair with fat
+Eulalie, a fish peddler and very shrewd at locating him. Even if his
+comrades tried to hide him, she could usually sniff him out when he
+was late. Just the night before she had slapped his face with a
+flounder to teach him not to neglect going to work. Bibi-the-Smoker
+and My-Boots nearly split their sides laughing. They slapped Gervaise
+on the shoulder and she began to laugh also, finding it amusing in
+spite of herself. They then advised her to follow Eulalie's example
+and bring an iron with her so as to press Coupeau's ears on the
+counters of the wineshops.
+
+"Ah, well, no thanks," cried Coupeau as he turned upside down the
+glass his wife had emptied. "You pump it out pretty well. Just look,
+you fellows, she doesn't take long over it."
+
+"Will madame take another?" asked Salted-Mouth, otherwise Drink-
+without-Thirst.
+
+No, she had had enough. Yet she hesitated. The anisette had slightly
+bothered her stomach. She should have taken straight brandy to settle
+her digestion.
+
+She cast side glances at the drunkard manufacturing machine behind
+her. That confounded pot, as round as the stomach of a tinker's fat
+wife, with its nose that was so long and twisted, sent a shiver down
+her back, a fear mingled with a desire. Yes, one might have thought it
+the metal pluck of some big wicked woman, of some witch who was
+discharging drop by drop the fire of her entrails. A fine source of
+poison, an operation which should have been hidden away in a cellar,
+it was so brazen and abominable! But all the same she would have liked
+to have poked her nose inside it, to have sniffed the odor, have
+tasted the filth, though the skin might have peeled off her burnt
+tongue like the rind off an orange.
+
+"What's that you're drinking?" asked she slyly of the men, her eyes
+lighted up by the beautiful golden color of their glasses.
+
+"That, old woman," answered Coupeau, "is Pere Colombe's camphor. Don't
+be silly now and we'll give you a taste."
+
+And when they had brought her a glass of the vitriol, the rotgut, and
+her jaws had contracted at the first mouthful, the zinc-worker
+resumed, slapping his thighs:
+
+"Ha! It tickles your gullet! Drink it off at one go. Each glassful
+cheats the doctor of six francs."
+
+At the second glass Gervaise no longer felt the hunger which had been
+tormenting her. Now she had made it up with Coupeau, she no longer
+felt angry with him for not having kept his word. They would go to the
+circus some other day; it was not so funny to see jugglers galloping
+about on houses. There was no rain inside Pere Colombe's and if the
+money went in brandy, one at least had it in one's body; one drank it
+bright and shining like beautiful liquid gold. Ah! she was ready to
+send the whole world to blazes! Life was not so pleasant after all,
+besides it seemed some consolation to her to have her share in
+squandering the cash. As she was comfortable, why should she not
+remain? One might have a discharge of artillery; she did not care to
+budge once she had settled in a heap. She nursed herself in a pleasant
+warmth, her bodice sticking to her back, overcome by a feeling of
+comfort which benumbed her limbs. She laughed all to herself, her
+elbows on the table, a vacant look in her eyes, highly amused by two
+customers, a fat heavy fellow and a tiny shrimp, seated at a
+neighboring table, and kissing each other lovingly. Yes, she laughed
+at the things to see in l'Assommoir, at Pere Colombe's full moon
+face, a regular bladder of lard, at the customers smoking their short
+clay pipes, yelling and spitting, and at the big flames of gas which
+lighted up the looking-glasses and the bottles of liqueurs. The smell
+no longer bothered her, on the contrary it tickled her nose, and she
+thought it very pleasant. Her eyes slightly closed, whilst she
+breathed very slowly, without the least feeling of suffocation,
+tasting the enjoyment of the gentle slumber which was overcoming her.
+Then, after her third glass, she let her chin fall on her hands; she
+now only saw Coupeau and his comrades, and she remained nose to nose
+with them, quite close, her cheeks warmed by their breath, looking at
+their dirty beards as though she had been counting the hairs. My-Boots
+drooled, his pipe between his teeth, with the dumb and grave air of a
+dozing ox. Bibi-the-Smoker was telling a story--the manner in which he
+emptied a bottle at a draught, giving it such a kiss that one
+instantly saw its bottom. Meanwhile Salted-Mouth, otherwise Drink-
+without-Thirst, had gone and fetched the wheel of fortune from the
+counter, and was playing with Coupeau for drinks.
+
+"Two hundred! You're lucky; you get high numbers every time!"
+
+The needle of the wheel grated, and the figure of Fortune, a big red
+woman placed under glass, turned round and round until it looked like
+a mere spot in the centre, similar to a wine stain.
+
+"Three hundred and fifty! You must have been inside it, you confounded
+lascar! Ah! I shan't play any more!"
+
+Gervaise amused herself with the wheel of fortune. She was feeling
+awfully thirsty, and calling My-Boots "my child." Behind her the
+machine for manufacturing drunkards continued working, with its murmur
+of an underground stream; and she despaired of ever stopping it, of
+exhausting it, filled with a sullen anger against it, feeling a
+longing to spring upon the big still as upon some animal, to kick it
+with her heels and stave in its belly. Then everything began to seem
+all mixed up. The machine seemed to be moving itself and she thought
+she was being grabbed by its copper claws, and that the underground
+stream was now flowing over her body.
+
+Then the room danced round, the gas-jets seemed to shoot like stars.
+Gervaise was drunk. She heard a furious wrangle between Salted-Mouth,
+otherwise Drink-without-Thirst, and that rascal Pere Colombe. There
+was a thief of a landlord who wanted one to pay for what one had not
+had! Yet one was not at a gangster's hang-out. Suddenly there was a
+scuffling, yells were heard and tables were upset. It was Pere Colombe
+who was turning the party out without the least hesitation, and in the
+twinkling of an eye. On the other side of the door they blackguarded
+him and called him a scoundrel. It still rained and blew icy cold.
+Gervaise lost Coupeau, found him and then lost him again. She wished
+to go home; she felt the shops to find her way. This sudden darkness
+surprised her immensely. At the corner of the Rue des Poissonniers,
+she sat down in the gutter thinking she was at the wash-house. The
+water which flowed along caused her head to swim, and made her very
+ill. At length she arrived, she passed stiffly before the concierge's
+room where she perfectly recognized the Lorilleuxs and the Poissons
+seated at the table having dinner, and who made grimaces of disgust on
+beholding her in that sorry state.
+
+She never remembered how she had got up all those flights of stairs.
+Just as she was turning into the passage at the top, little Lalie, who
+heard her footsteps, hastened to meet her, opening her arms
+caressingly, and saying, with a smile:
+
+"Madame Gervaise, papa has not returned. Just come and see my little
+children sleeping. Oh! they look so pretty!"
+
+But on beholding the laundress' besotted face, she tremblingly drew
+back. She was acquainted with that brandy-laden breath, those pale
+eyes, that convulsed mouth. Then Gervaise stumbled past without
+uttering a word, whilst the child, standing on the threshold of her
+room, followed her with her dark eyes, grave and speechless.
+
+
+
+                              CHAPTER XI
+
+Nana was growing up and becoming wayward. At fifteen years old she had
+expanded like a calf, white-skinned and very fat; so plump, indeed,
+you might have called her a pincushion. Yes, such she was--fifteen
+years old, full of figure and no stays. A saucy magpie face, dipped in
+milk, a skin as soft as a peach skin, a funny nose, pink lips and eyes
+sparkling like tapers, which men would have liked to light their pipes
+at. Her pile of fair hair, the color of fresh oats, seemed to have
+scattered gold dust over her temples, freckle-like as it were, giving
+her brow a sunny crown. Ah! a pretty doll, as the Lorilleuxs say, a
+dirty nose that needed wiping, with fat shoulders, which were as fully
+rounded and as powerful as those of a full-grown woman. Nana no longer
+needed to stuff wads of paper into her bodice, her breasts were grown.
+She wished they were larger though, and dreamed of having breasts like
+a wet-nurse.
+
+What made her particularly tempting was a nasty habit she had of
+protruding the tip of her tongue between her white teeth. No doubt on
+seeing herself in the looking-glasses she had thought she was pretty
+like this; and so, all day long, she poked her tongue out of her
+mouth, in view of improving her appearance.
+
+"Hide your lying tongue!" cried her mother.
+
+Coupeau would often get involved, pounding his fist, swearing and
+shouting:
+
+"Make haste and draw that red rag inside again!"
+
+Nana showed herself very coquettish. She did not always wash her feet,
+but she bought such tight boots that she suffered martyrdom in St.
+Crispin's prison; and if folks questioned her when she turned purple
+with pain, she answered that she had the stomach ache, so as to avoid
+confessing her coquetry. When bread was lacking at home it was
+difficult for her to trick herself out. But she accomplished miracles,
+brought ribbons back from the workshop and concocted toilettes--dirty
+dresses set off with bows and puffs. The summer was the season of her
+greatest triumphs. With a cambric dress which had cost her six francs
+she filled the whole neighborhood of the Goutte-d'Or with her fair
+beauty. Yes, she was known from the outer Boulevards to the
+Fortifications, and from the Chaussee de Clignancourt to the Grand Rue
+of La Chapelle. Folks called her "chickie," for she was really as
+tender and as fresh-looking as a chicken.
+
+There was one dress which suited her perfectly, a white one with pink
+dots. It was very simple and without a frill. The skirt was rather
+short and revealed her ankles. The sleeves were deeply slashed and
+loose, showing her arms to the elbow. She pinned the neck back into a
+wide V as soon as she reached a dark corner of the staircase to avoid
+getting her ears boxed by her father for exposing the snowy whiteness
+of her throat and the golden shadow between her breasts. She also tied
+a pink ribbon round her blond hair.
+
+Sundays she spent the entire day out with the crowds and loved it when
+the men eyed her hungrily as they passed. She waited all week long for
+these glances. She would get up early to dress herself and spend hours
+before the fragment of mirror that was hung over the bureau. Her
+mother would scold her because the entire building could see her
+through the window in her chemise as she mended her dress.
+
+Ah! she looked cute like that said father Coupeau, sneering and
+jeering at her, a real Magdalene in despair! She might have turned
+"savage woman" at a fair, and have shown herself for a penny. Hide
+your meat, he used to say, and let me eat my bread! In fact, she was
+adorable, white and dainty under her overhanging golden fleece, losing
+temper to the point that her skin turned pink, not daring to answer
+her father, but cutting her thread with her teeth with a hasty,
+furious jerk, which shook her plump but youthful form.
+
+Then immediately after breakfast she tripped down the stairs into the
+courtyard. The entire tenement seemed to be resting sleepily in the
+peacefulness of a Sunday afternoon. The workshops on the ground floor
+were closed. Gaping windows revealed tables in some apartments that
+were already set for dinner, awaiting families out working up an
+appetite by strolling along the fortifications.
+
+Then, in the midst of the empty, echoing courtyard, Nana, Pauline and
+other big girls engaged in games of battledore and shuttlecock. They
+had grown up together and were now becoming queens of their building.
+Whenever a man crossed the court, flutelike laugher would arise, and
+then starched skirts would rustle like the passing of a gust of wind.
+
+The games were only an excuse for them to make their escape. Suddenly
+stillness fell upon the tenement. The girls had glided out into the
+street and made for the outer Boulevards. Then, linked arm-in-arm
+across the full breadth of the pavement, they went off, the whole six
+of them, clad in light colors, with ribbons tied around their bare
+heads. With bright eyes darting stealthy glances through their
+partially closed eyelids, they took note of everything, and constantly
+threw back their necks to laugh, displaying the fleshy part of their
+chins. They would swing their hips, or group together tightly, or
+flaunt along with awkward grace, all for the purpose of calling
+attention to the fact that their forms were filling out.
+
+Nana was in the centre with her pink dress all aglow in the sunlight.
+She gave her arm to Pauline, whose costume, yellow flowers on a white
+ground, glared in similar fashion, dotted as it were with little
+flames. As they were the tallest of the band, the most woman-like and
+most unblushing, they led the troop and drew themselves up with
+breasts well forward whenever they detected glances or heard
+complimentary remarks. The others extended right and left, puffing
+themselves out in order to attract attention. Nana and Pauline
+resorted to the complicated devices of experienced coquettes. If they
+ran till they were out of breath, it was in view of showing their
+white stockings and making the ribbons of their chignons wave in the
+breeze. When they stopped, pretending complete breathlessness, you
+would certainly spot someone they knew quite near, one of the young
+fellows of the neighborhood. This would make them dawdle along
+languidly, whispering and laughing among themselves, but keeping a
+sharp watch through their downcast eyelids.
+
+They went on these strolls of a Sunday mainly for the sake of these
+chance meetings. Tall lads, wearing their Sunday best, would stop
+them, joking and trying to catch them round their waists. Pauline was
+forever running into one of Madame Gaudron's sons, a seventeen-year-
+old carpenter, who would treat her to fried potatoes. Nana could spot
+Victor Fauconnier, the laundress's son and they would exchange kisses
+in dark corners. It never went farther than that, but they told each
+other some tall tales.
+
+Then when the sun set, the great delight of these young hussies was to
+stop and look at the mountebanks. Conjurors and strong men turned up
+and spread threadbare carpets on the soil of the avenue. Loungers
+collected and a circle formed whilst the mountebank in the centre
+tried his muscles under his faded tights. Nana and Pauline would stand
+for hours in the thickest part of the crowd. Their pretty, fresh
+frocks would get crushed between great-coats and dirty work smocks. In
+this atmosphere of wine and sweat they would laugh gaily, finding
+amusement in everything, blooming naturally like roses growing out of
+a dunghill. The only thing that vexed them was to meet their fathers,
+especially when the hatter had been drinking. So they watched and
+warned one another.
+
+"Look, Nana," Pauline would suddenly cry out, "here comes father
+Coupeau!"
+
+"Well, he's drunk too. Oh, dear," said Nana, greatly bothered. "I'm
+going to beat it, you know. I don't want him to give me a wallop.
+Hullo! How he stumbles! Good Lord, if he could only break his neck!"
+
+At other times, when Coupeau came straight up to her without giving
+her time to run off, she crouched down, made herself small and
+muttered: "Just you hide me, you others. He's looking for me, and he
+promised he'd knock my head off if he caught me hanging about."
+
+Then when the drunkard had passed them she drew herself up again, and
+all the others followed her with bursts of laughter. He'll find her--
+he will--he won't! It was a true game of hide and seek. One day,
+however, Boche had come after Pauline and caught her by both ears, and
+Coupeau had driven Nana home with kicks.
+
+Nana was now a flower-maker and earned forty sous a day at
+Titreville's place in the Rue du Caire, where she had served as
+apprentice. The Coupeaus had kept her there so that she might remain
+under the eye of Madame Lerat, who had been forewoman in the workroom
+for ten years. Of a morning, when her mother looked at the cuckoo
+clock, off she went by herself, looking very pretty with her shoulders
+tightly confined in her old black dress, which was both too narrow and
+too short; and Madame Lerat had to note the hour of her arrival and
+tell it to Gervaise. She was allowed twenty minutes to go from the Rue
+de la Goutte-d'Or to the Rue du Caire, and it was enough, for these
+young hussies have the legs of racehorses. Sometimes she arrived
+exactly on time but so breathless and flushed that she must have
+covered most of the distance at a run after dawdling along the way.
+More often she was a few minutes late. Then she would fawn on her aunt
+all day, hoping to soften her and keep her from telling. Madame Lerat
+understood what it was to be young and would lie to the Coupeaus, but
+she also lectured Nana, stressing the dangers a young girl runs on the
+streets of Paris. /Mon Dieu!/ she herself was followed often enough!
+
+"Oh! I watch, you needn't fear," said the widow to the Coupeaus. "I
+will answer to you for her as I would for myself. And rather than let
+a blackguard squeeze her, why I'd step between them."
+
+The workroom at Titreville's was a large apartment on the first floor,
+with a broad work-table standing on trestles in the centre. Round the
+four walls, the plaster of which was visible in parts where the dirty
+yellowish-grey paper was torn away, there were several stands covered
+with old cardboard boxes, parcels and discarded patterns under a thick
+coating of dust. The gas had left what appeared to be like a daub of
+soot on the ceiling. The two windows opened so wide that without
+leaving the work-table the girls could see the people walking past on
+the pavement over the way.
+
+Madame Lerat arrived the first, in view of setting an example. Then
+for a quarter of an hour the door swayed to and fro, and all the
+workgirls scrambled in, perspiring with tumbled hair. One July morning
+Nana arrived the last, as very often happened. "Ah, me!" she said, "it
+won't be a pity when I have a carriage of my own." And without even
+taking off her hat, one which she was weary of patching up, she
+approached the window and leant out, looking to the right and the left
+to see what was going on in the street.
+
+"What are you looking at?" asked Madame Lerat, suspiciously. "Did your
+father come with you?"
+
+"No, you may be sure of that," answered Nana coolly. "I'm looking at
+nothing--I'm seeing how hot it is. It's enough to make anyone, having
+to run like that."
+
+It was a stifling hot morning. The workgirls had drawn down the
+Venetian blinds, between which they could spy out into the street; and
+they had at last begun working on either side of the table, at the
+upper end of which sat Madame Lerat. They were eight in number, each
+with her pot of glue, pincers, tools and curling stand in front of
+her. On the work-table lay a mass of wire, reels, cotton wool, green
+and brown paper, leaves and petals cut out of silk, satin or velvet.
+In the centre, in the neck of a large decanter, one flower-girl had
+thrust a little penny nosegay which had been fading on her breast
+since the day before.
+
+"Oh, I have some news," said a pretty brunette named Leonie as she
+leaned over her cushion to crimp some rose petals. "Poor Caroline is
+very unhappy about that fellow who used to wait for her every
+evening."
+
+"Ah!" said Nana, who was cutting thin strips of green paper. "A man
+who cheats on her every day!"
+
+Madame Lerat had to display severity over the muffled laughter. Then
+Leonie whispered suddenly:
+
+"Quiet. The boss!"
+
+It was indeed Madame Titreville who entered. The tall thin woman
+usually stayed down in the shop. The girls were quite in awe of her
+because she never joked with them. All the heads were now bent over
+the work in diligent silence. Madame Titreville slowly circled the
+work-table. She told one girl her work was sloppy and made her do the
+flower over. Then she stalked out as stiffly as she had come in.
+
+The complaining and low laughter began again.
+
+"Really, young ladies!" said Madame Lerat, trying to look more severe
+than ever. "You will force me to take measures."
+
+The workgirls paid no attention to her. They were not afraid of her.
+She was too easy-going because she enjoyed being surrounded by these
+young girls whose zest for life sparkled in their eyes. She enjoyed
+taking them aside to hear their confidences about their lovers. She
+even told their fortunes with cards whenever a corner of the work-
+table was free. She was only offended by coarse expressions. As long
+as you avoided those you could say what you pleased.
+
+To tell the truth, Nana perfected her education in nice style in the
+workroom! No doubt she was already inclined to go wrong. But this was
+the finishing stroke--associating with a lot of girls who were already
+worn out with misery and vice. They all hobnobbed and rotted together,
+just the story of the baskets of apples when there are rotten ones
+among them. They maintained a certain propriety in public, but the
+smut flowed freely when they got to whispering together in a corner.
+
+For inexperienced girls like Nana, there was an undesirable atmosphere
+around the workshop, an air of cheap dance halls and unorthodox
+evenings brought in by some of the girls. The laziness of mornings
+after a gay night, the shadows under the eyes, the lounging, the
+hoarse voices, all spread an odor of dark perversion over the work-
+table which contrasted sharply with the brilliant fragility of the
+artificial flowers. Nana eagerly drank it all in and was dizzy with
+joy when she found herself beside a girl who had been around. She
+always wanted to sit next to big Lisa, who was said to be pregnant,
+and she kept glancing curiously at her neighbor as though expecting
+her to swell up suddenly.
+
+"It's hot enough to make one stifle," Nana said, approaching a window
+as if to draw the blind farther down; but she leant forward and again
+looked out both to the right and left.
+
+At the same moment Leonie, who was watching a man stationed at the
+foot of the pavement over the way, exclaimed, "What's that old fellow
+about? He's been spying here for the last quarter of an hour."
+
+"Some tom cat," said Madame Lerat. "Nana, just come and sit down! I
+told you not to stand at the window."
+
+Nana took up the stems of some violets she was rolling, and the whole
+workroom turned its attention to the man in question. He was a well-
+dressed individual wearing a frock coat and he looked about fifty
+years old. He had a pale face, very serous and dignified in
+expression, framed round with a well trimmed grey beard. He remained
+for an hour in front of a herbalist's shop with his eyes fixed on the
+Venetian blinds of the workroom. The flower-girls indulged in little
+bursts of laughter which died away amid the noise of the street, and
+while leaning forward, to all appearance busy with their work, they
+glanced askance so as not to lose sight of the gentleman.
+
+"Ah!" remarked Leonie, "he wears glasses. He's a swell. He's waiting
+for Augustine, no doubt."
+
+But Augustine, a tall, ugly, fair-haired girl, sourly answered that
+she did not like old men; whereupon Madame Lerat, jerking her head,
+answered with a smile full of underhand meaning:
+
+"That is a great mistake on your part, my dear; the old ones are more
+affectionate."
+
+At this moment Leonie's neighbor, a plump little body, whispered
+something in her ear and Leonie suddenly threw herself back on her
+chair, seized with a fit of noisy laughter, wriggling, looking at the
+gentleman and then laughing all the louder. "That's it. Oh! that's
+it," she stammered. "How dirty that Sophie is!"
+
+"What did she say? What did she say?" asked the whole workroom, aglow
+with curiosity.
+
+Leonie wiped the tears from her eyes without answering. When she
+became somewhat calmer, she began curling her flowers again and
+declared, "It can't be repeated."
+
+The others insisted, but she shook her head, seized again with a gust
+of gaiety. Thereupon Augustine, her left-hand neighbor, besought her
+to whisper it to her; and finally Leonie consented to do so with her
+lips close to Augustine's ear. Augustine threw herself back and
+wriggled with convulsive laughter in her turn. Then she repeated the
+phrase to a girl next to her, and from ear to ear it traveled round
+the room amid exclamations and stifled laughter. When they were all of
+them acquainted with Sophie's disgusting remark they looked at one
+another and burst out laughing together although a little flushed and
+confused. Madame Lerat alone was not in the secret and she felt
+extremely vexed.
+
+"That's very impolite behavior on your part, young ladies," said she.
+"It is not right to whisper when other people are present. Something
+indecent no doubt! Ah! that's becoming!"
+
+She did not dare go so far as to ask them to pass Sophie's remark on
+to her although she burned to hear it. So she kept her eyes on her
+work, amusing herself by listening to the conversation. Now no one
+could make even an innocent remark without the others twisting it
+around and connecting it with the gentleman on the sidewalk. Madame
+Lerat herself once sent them into convulsions of laughter when she
+said, "Mademoiselle Lisa, my fire's gone out. Pass me yours."
+
+"Oh! Madame Lerat's fire's out!" laughed the whole shop.
+
+They refused to listen to any explanation, but maintained they were
+going to call in the gentleman outside to rekindle Madame Lerat's
+fire.
+
+However, the gentleman over the way had gone off. The room grew calmer
+and the work was carried on in the sultry heat. When twelve o'clock
+struck--meal-time--they all shook themselves. Nana, who had hastened
+to the window again, volunteered to do the errands if they liked. And
+Leonie ordered two sous worth of shrimps, Augustine a screw of fried
+potatoes, Lisa a bunch of radishes, Sophie a sausage. Then as Nana was
+doing down the stairs, Madame Lerat, who found her partiality for the
+window that morning rather curious, overtook her with her long legs.
+
+"Wait a bit," said she. "I'll go with you. I want to buy something
+too."
+
+But in the passage below she perceived the gentleman, stuck there like
+a candle and exchanging glances with Nana. The girl flushed very red,
+whereupon her aunt at once caught her by the arm and made her trot
+over the pavement, whilst the individual followed behind. Ah! so the
+tom cat had come for Nana. Well, that /was/ nice! At fifteen years and
+a half to have men trailing after her! Then Madame Lerat hastily began
+to question her. /Mon Dieu!/ Nana didn't know; he had only been
+following her for five days, but she could not poke her nose out of
+doors without stumbling on men. She believed he was in business; yes,
+a manufacturer of bone buttons. Madame Lerat was greatly impressed.
+She turned round and glanced at the gentleman out of the corner of her
+eye.
+
+"One can see he's got a deep purse," she muttered. "Listen to me,
+kitten; you must tell me everything. You have nothing more to fear
+now."
+
+Whilst speaking they hastened from shop to shop--to the pork
+butcher's, the fruiterer's, the cook-shop; and the errands in greasy
+paper were piled up in their hands. Still they remained amiable,
+flouncing along and casting bright glances behind them with gusts of
+gay laughter. Madame Lerat herself was acting the young girl, on
+account of the button manufacturer who was still following them.
+
+"He is very distinguished looking," she declared as they returned into
+the passage. "If he only has honorable views--"
+
+Then, as they were going up the stairs she suddenly seemed to remember
+something. "By the way, tell me what the girls were whispering to each
+other--you know, what Sophie said?"
+
+Nana did not make any ceremony. Only she caught Madame Lerat by the
+hand, and caused her to descend a couple of steps, for, really, it
+wouldn't do to say it aloud, not even on the stairs. When she
+whispered it to her, it was so obscene that Madame Lerat could only
+shake her head, opening her eyes wide, and pursing her lips. Well, at
+least her curiosity wasn't troubling her any longer.
+
+From that day forth Madame Lerat regaled herself with her niece's
+first love adventure. She no longer left her, but accompanied her
+morning and evening, bringing her responsibility well to the fore.
+This somewhat annoyed Nana, but all the same she expanded with pride
+at seeing herself guarded like a treasure; and the talk she and her
+aunt indulged in in the street with the button manufacturer behind
+them flattered her, and rather quickened her desire for new
+flirtations. Oh! her aunt understood the feelings of the heart; she
+even compassionated the button manufacturer, this elderly gentleman,
+who looked so respectable, for, after all, sentimental feelings are
+more deeply rooted among people of a certain age. Still she watched.
+And, yes, he would have to pass over her body before stealing her
+niece.
+
+One evening she approached the gentleman, and told him, as straight as
+a bullet, that his conduct was most improper. He bowed to her politely
+without answering, like an old satyr who was accustomed to hear
+parents tell him to go about his business. She really could not be
+cross with him, he was too well mannered.
+
+Then came lectures on love, allusions to dirty blackguards of men, and
+all sorts of stories about hussies who had repented of flirtations,
+which left Nana in a state of pouting, with eyes gleaming brightly in
+her pale face.
+
+One day, however, in the Rue du Faubourg-Poissonniere the button
+manufacturer ventured to poke his nose between the aunt and the niece
+to whisper some things which ought not to have been said. Thereupon
+Madame Lerat was so frightened that she declared she no longer felt
+able to handle the matter and she told the whole business to her
+brother. Then came another row. There were some pretty rumpuses in the
+Coupeaus' room. To begin with, the zinc-worker gave Nana a hiding.
+What was that he learnt? The hussy was flirting with old men. All
+right. Only let her be caught philandering out of doors again, she'd
+be done for; he, her father, would cut off her head in a jiffy. Had
+the like ever been seen before! A dirty nose who thought of beggaring
+her family! Thereupon he shook her, declaring in God's name that she'd
+have to walk straight, for he'd watch her himself in future. He now
+looked her over every night when she came in, even going so far as to
+sniff at her and make her turn round before him.
+
+One evening she got another hiding because he discovered a mark on her
+neck that he maintained was the mark of a kiss. Nana insisted it was a
+bruise that Leonie had given her when they were having a bit of a
+rough-house. Yet at other times her father would tease her, saying she
+was certainly a choice morsel for men. Nana began to display the
+sullen submissiveness of a trapped animal. She was raging inside.
+
+"Why don't you leave her alone?" repeated Gervaise, who was more
+reasonable. "You will end by making her wish to do it by talking to
+her about it so much."
+
+Ah! yes, indeed, she did wish to do it. She itched all over, longing
+to break loose and gad all the time, as father Coupeau said. He
+insisted so much on the subject that even an honest girl would have
+fired up. Even when he was abusing her, he taught her a few things she
+did not know as yet, which, to say the least was astonishing. Then,
+little by little she acquired some singular habits. One morning he
+noticed her rummaging in a paper bag and rubbing something on her
+face. It was rice powder, which she plastered on her delicate satin-
+like skin with perverse taste. He caught up the paper bag and rubbed
+it over her face violently enough to graze her skin and called her a
+miller's daughter. On another occasion she brought some ribbon home,
+to do up her old black hat which she was so ashamed of. He asked her
+in a furious voice where she had got those ribbons from. Had she
+earned them by lying on her back or had she bagged them somewhere? A
+hussy or a thief, and perhaps both by now?
+
+More than once he found her with some pretty little doodad. She had
+found a little interlaced heart in the street on Rue d'Aboukir. Her
+father crushed the heart under his foot, driving her to the verge of
+throwing herself at him to ruin something of his. For two years she
+had been longing for one of those hearts, and now he had smashed it!
+This was too much, she was reaching the end of the line with him.
+
+Coupeau was often in the wrong in the manner in which he tried to rule
+Nana. His injustice exasperated her. She at last left off attending
+the workshop and when the zinc-worker gave her a hiding, she declared
+she would not return to Titreville's again, for she was always placed
+next to Augustine, who must have swallowed her feet to have such a
+foul breath. Then Coupeau took her himself to the Rue du Caire and
+requested the mistress of the establishment to place her always next
+to Augustine, by way of punishment. Every morning for a fortnight he
+took the trouble to come down from the Barriere Poissonniere to escort
+Nana to the door of the flower shop. And he remained for five minutes
+on the footway, to make sure that she had gone in. But one morning
+while he was drinking a glass with a friend in a wineshop in the Rue
+Saint-Denis, he perceived the hussy darting down the street. For a
+fortnight she had been deceiving him; instead of going into the
+workroom, she climbed a story higher, and sat down on the stairs,
+waiting till he had gone off. When Coupeau began casting the blame on
+Madame Lerat, the latter flatly replied that she would not accept it.
+She had told her niece all she ought to tell her, to keep her on her
+guard against men, and it was not her fault if the girl still had a
+liking for the nasty beasts. Now, she washed her hands of the whole
+business; she swore she would not mix up in it, for she knew what she
+knew about scandalmongers in her own family, yes, certain persons who
+had the nerve to accuse her of going astray with Nana and finding an
+indecent pleasure in watching her take her first misstep. Then Coupeau
+found out from the proprietress that Nana was being corrupted by that
+little floozie Leonie, who had given up flower-making to go on the
+street. Nana was being tempted by the jingle of cash and the lure of
+adventure on the streets.
+
+In the tenement in the Rue de la Goutte-d'Or, Nana's old fellow was
+talked about as a gentleman everyone was acquainted with. Oh! he
+remained very polite, even a little timid, but awfully obstinate and
+patient, following her ten paces behind like an obedient poodle.
+Sometimes, indeed, he ventured into the courtyard. One evening, Madame
+Gaudron met him on the second floor landing, and he glided down
+alongside the balusters with his nose lowered and looking as if on
+fire, but frightened. The Lorilleuxs threatened to move out if that
+wayward niece of theirs brought men trailing in after her. It was
+disgusting. The staircase was full of them. The Boches said that they
+felt sympathy for the old gentleman because he had fallen for a tramp.
+He was really a respectable businessman, they had seen his button
+factory on the Boulevard de la Villette. He would be an excellent
+catch for a decent girl.
+
+For the first month Nana was greatly amused with her old flirt. You
+should have seen him always dogging her--a perfect great nuisance, who
+followed far behind, in the crowd, without seeming to do so. And his
+legs! Regular lucifers. No more moss on his pate, only four straight
+hairs falling on his neck, so that she was always tempted to ask him
+where his hairdresser lived. Ah! what an old gaffer, he was comical
+and no mistake, nothing to get excited over.
+
+Then, on finding him always behind her, she no longer thought him so
+funny. She became afraid of him and would have called out if he had
+approached her. Often, when she stopped in front of a jeweler's shop,
+she heard him stammering something behind her. And what he said was
+true; she would have liked to have had a cross with a velvet neck-
+band, or a pair of coral earrings, so small you would have thought
+they were drops of blood.
+
+More and more, as she plodded through the mire of the streets, getting
+splashed by passing vehicles and being dazzled by the magnificence of
+the window displays, she felt longings that tortured her like hunger
+pangs, yearnings for better clothes, for eating in restaurants, for
+going to the theatre, for a room of her own with nice furniture. Right
+at those moments, it never failed that her old gentleman would come up
+to whisper something in her ear. Oh, if only she wasn't afraid of him,
+how readily she would have taken up with him.
+
+When the winter arrived, life became impossible at home. Nana had her
+hiding every night. When her father was tired of beating her, her
+mother smacked her to teach her how to behave. And there were free-
+for-alls; as soon as one of them began to beat her, the other took her
+part, so that all three of them ended by rolling on the floor in the
+midst of the broken crockery. And with all this, there were short
+rations and they shivered with cold. Whenever the girl bought anything
+pretty, a bow or a pair of buttons, her parents confiscated the
+purchase and drank what they could get for it. She had nothing of her
+own, excepting her allowance of blows, before coiling herself up
+between the rags of a sheet, where she shivered under her little black
+skirt, which she stretched out by way of a blanket. No, that cursed
+life could not continue; she was not going to leave her skin in it.
+Her father had long since ceased to count for her; when a father gets
+drunk like hers did, he isn't a father, but a dirty beast one longs to
+be rid of. And now, too, her mother was doing down the hill in her
+esteem. She drank as well. She liked to go and fetch her husband at
+Pere Colombe's, so as to be treated; and she willingly sat down, with
+none of the air of disgust that she had assumed on the first occasion,
+draining glasses indeed at one gulp, dragging her elbows over the
+table for hours and leaving the place with her eyes starting out of
+her head.
+
+When Nana passed in front of l'Assommoir and saw her mother inside,
+with her nose in her glass, fuddled in the midst of the disputing men,
+she was seized with anger; for youth which has other dainty thoughts
+uppermost does not understand drink. On these evenings it was a pretty
+sight. Father drunk, mother drunk, a hell of a home that stunk with
+liquor, and where there was no bread. To tell the truth, a saint would
+not have stayed in the place. So much the worse if she flew the coop
+one of these days; her parents would have to say their /mea culpa/,
+and own that they had driven her out themselves.
+
+One Saturday when Nana came home she found her father and her mother
+in a lamentable condition. Coupeau, who had fallen across the bed was
+snoring. Gervaise, crouching on a chair was swaying her head, with her
+eyes vaguely and threateningly staring into vacancy. She had forgotten
+to warm the dinner, the remains of a stew. A tallow dip which she
+neglected to snuff revealed the shameful misery of their hovel.
+
+"It's you, shrimp?" stammered Gervaise. "Ah, well, your father will
+take care of you."
+
+Nana did not answer, but remained pale, looking at the cold stove, the
+table on which no plates were laid, the lugubrious hovel which this
+pair of drunkards invested with the pale horror of their callousness.
+She did not take off her hat but walked round the room; then with her
+teeth tightly set, she opened the door and went out.
+
+"You are doing down again?" asked her mother, who was unable even to
+turn her head.
+
+"Yes; I've forgotten something. I shall come up again. Good evening."
+
+And she did not return. On the morrow when the Coupeaus were sobered
+they fought together, reproaching each other with being the cause of
+Nana's flight. Ah! she was far away if she were running still! As
+children are told of sparrows, her parents might set a pinch of salt
+on her tail, and then perhaps they would catch her. It was a great
+blow, and crushed Gervaise, for despite the impairment of her
+faculties, she realized perfectly well that her daughter's misconduct
+lowered her still more; she was alone now, with no child to think
+about, able to let herself sink as low as she could fall. She drank
+steadily for three days. Coupeau prowled along the exterior Boulevards
+without seeing Nana and then came home to smoke his pipe peacefully.
+He was always back in time for his soup.
+
+In this tenement, where girls flew off every month like canaries whose
+cages are left open, no one was astonished to hear of the Coupeaus'
+mishap. But the Lorilleuxs were triumphant. Ah! they had predicted
+that the girl would reward her parents in this fashion. It was
+deserved; all artificial flower-girls went that way. The Boches and
+the Poissons also sneered with an extraordinary display and outlay of
+grief. Lantier alone covertly defended Nana. /Mon Dieu!/ said he, with
+his puritanical air, no doubt a girl who so left her home did offend
+her parents; but, with a gleam in the corner of his eyes, he added
+that, dash it! the girl was, after all, too pretty to lead such a life
+of misery at her age.
+
+"Do you know," cried Madame Lorilleux, one day in the Boches' room,
+where the party were taking coffee; "well, as sure as daylight, Clump-
+clump sold her daughter. Yes she sold her, and I have proof of it!
+That old fellow, who was always on the stairs morning and night, went
+up to pay something on account. It stares one in the face. They were
+seen together at the Ambigu Theatre--the young wench and her old tom
+cat. Upon my word of honor, they're living together, it's quite
+plain."
+
+They discussed the scandal thoroughly while finishing their coffee.
+Yes, it was quite possible. Soon most of the neighborhood accepted the
+conclusion that Gervaise had actually sold her daughter.
+
+Gervaise now shuffled along in her slippers, without caring a rap for
+anyone. You might have called her a thief in the street, she wouldn't
+have turned round. For a month past she hadn't looked at Madame
+Fauconnier's; the latter had had to turn her out of the place to avoid
+disputes. In a few weeks' time she had successively entered the
+service of eight washerwomen; she only lasted two or three days in
+each place before she got the sack, so badly did she iron the things
+entrusted to her, careless and dirty, her mind failing to such a point
+that she quite forgot her own craft. At last realizing her own
+incapacity she abandoned ironing; and went out washing by the day at
+the wash-house in the Rue Neuve, where she still jogged on,
+floundering about in the water, fighting with filth, reduced to the
+roughest but simplest work, a bit lower on the down-hill slopes. The
+wash-house scarcely beautified her. A real mud-splashed dog when she
+came out of it, soaked and showing her blue skin. At the same time she
+grew stouter and stouter, despite her frequent dances before the empty
+sideboard, and her leg became so crooked that she could no longer walk
+beside anyone without the risk of knocking him over, so great indeed
+was her limp.
+
+Naturally enough when a woman falls to this point all her pride leaves
+her. Gervaise had divested herself of all her old self-respect,
+coquetry and need of sentiment, propriety and politeness. You might
+have kicked her, no matter where, she did not feel kicks for she had
+become too fat and flabby. Lantier had altogether neglected her; he no
+longer escorted her or even bothered to give her a pinch now and
+again. She did not seem to notice this finish of a long liaison slowly
+spun out, and ending in mutual insolence. It was a chore the less for
+her. Even Lantier's intimacy with Virginie left her quite calm, so
+great was her indifference now for all that she had been so upset
+about in the past. She would even have held a candle for them now.
+
+Everyone was aware that Virginie and Lantier were carrying on. It was
+much too convenient, especially with Poisson on duty every other
+night. Lantier had thought of himself when he advised Virginie to deal
+in dainties. He was too much of a Provincial not to adore sugared
+things; and in fact he would have lived off sugar candy, lozenges,
+pastilles, sugar plums and chocolate. Sugared almonds especially left
+a little froth on his lips so keenly did they tickle his palate. For a
+year he had been living only on sweetmeats. He opened the drawers and
+stuffed himself whenever Virginie asked him to mind the shop. Often,
+when he was talking in the presence of five or six other people, he
+would take the lid off a jar on the counter, dip his hand into it and
+begin to nibble at something sweet; the glass jar remained open and
+its contents diminished. People ceased paying attention to it, it was
+a mania of his so he had declared. Besides, he had devised a perpetual
+cold, an irritation of the throat, which he always talked of calming.
+
+He still did not work, for he had more and more important schemes than
+ever in view. He was contriving a superb invention--the umbrella hat,
+a hat which transformed itself into an umbrella on your head as soon
+as a shower commenced to fall; and he promised Poisson half shares in
+the profit of it, and even borrowed twenty franc pieces of him to
+defray the cost of experiments. Meanwhile the shop melted away on his
+tongue. All the stock-in-trade followed suit down to the chocolate
+cigars and pipes in pink caramel. Whenever he was stuffed with
+sweetmeats and seized with a fit of tenderness, he paid himself with a
+last lick on the groceress in a corner, who found him all sugar with
+lips which tasted like burnt almonds. Such a delightful man to kiss!
+He was positively becoming all honey. The Boches said he merely had to
+dip a finger into his coffee to sweeten it.
+
+Softened by this perpetual dessert, Lantier showed himself paternal
+towards Gervaise. He gave her advice and scolded her because she no
+longer liked to work. Indeed! A woman of her age ought to know how to
+turn herself round. And he accused her of having always been a
+glutton. Nevertheless, as one ought to hold out a helping hand, even
+to folks who don't deserve it, he tried to find her a little work.
+Thus he had prevailed upon Virginie to let Gervaise come once a week
+to scrub the shop and the rooms. That was the sort of thing she
+understood and on each occasion she earned her thirty sous. Gervaise
+arrived on the Saturday morning with a pail and a scrubbing brush,
+without seeming to suffer in the least at having to perform a dirty,
+humble duty, a charwoman's work in the dwelling-place where she had
+reigned as the beautiful fair-haired mistress. It was a last
+humiliation, the end of her pride.
+
+One Saturday she had a hard job of it. It had rained for three days
+and the customers seemed to have brought all the mud of the
+neighborhood into the shop on the soles of their boots. Virginie was
+at the counter doing the grand, with her hair well combed, and wearing
+a little white collar and a pair of lace cuffs. Beside her, on the
+narrow seat covered with red oil-cloth, Lantier did the dandy, looking
+for the world as if he were at home, as if he were the real master of
+the place, and from time to time he carelessly dipped his hand into a
+jar of peppermint drops, just to nibble something sweet according to
+his habit.
+
+"Look here, Madame Coupeau!" cried Virginie, who was watching the
+scrubbing with compressed lips, "you have left some dirt over there in
+the corner. Scrub that rather better please."
+
+Gervaise obeyed. She returned to the corner and began to scrub again.
+She bent double on her knees in the midst of the dirty water, with her
+shoulders protruding, her arms stiff and purple with cold. Her old
+skirt, fairly soaked, stuck to her figure. And there on the floor she
+looked a dirty, ill-combed drab, the rents in her jacket showing her
+puffy form, her fat, flabby flesh which heaved, swayed and floundered
+about as she went about her work; and all the while she perspired to
+such a point that from her moist face big drops of sweat fell on to
+the floor.
+
+"The more elbow grease one uses, the more it shines," said Lantier,
+sententiously, with his mouth full of peppermint drops.
+
+Virginie, who sat back with the demeanor of a princess, her eyes
+partly open, was still watching the scrubbing, and indulging in
+remarks. "A little more on the right there. Take care of the wainscot.
+You know I was not very well pleased last Saturday. There were some
+stains left."
+
+And both together, the hatter and the groceress assumed a more
+important air, as if they had been on a throne whilst Gervaise dragged
+herself through the black mud at their feet. Virginie must have
+enjoyed herself, for a yellowish flame darted from her cat's eyes, and
+she looked at Lantier with an insidious smile. At last she was
+revenged for that hiding she had received at the wash-house, and which
+she had never forgotten.
+
+Whenever Gervaise ceased scrubbing, a sound of sawing could be heard
+from the back room. Through the open doorway, Poisson's profile stood
+out against the pale light of the courtyard. He was off duty that day
+and was profiting by his leisure time to indulge in his mania for
+making little boxes. He was seated at a table and was cutting out
+arabesques in a cigar box with extraordinary care.
+
+"Say, Badingue!" cried Lantier, who had given him this surname again,
+out of friendship. "I shall want that box of yours as a present for a
+young lady."
+
+Virginie gave him a pinch and he reached under the counter to run his
+fingers like a creeping mouse up her leg.
+
+"Quite so," said the policeman. "I was working for you, Auguste, in
+view of presenting you with a token of friendship."
+
+"Ah, if that's the case, I'll keep your little memento!" rejoined
+Lantier with a laugh. "I'll hang it round my neck with a ribbon."
+
+Then suddenly, as if this thought brought another one to his memory,
+"By the way," he cried, "I met Nana last night."
+
+This news caused Gervaise such emotion that she sunk down in the dirty
+water which covered the floor of the shop.
+
+"Ah!" she muttered speechlessly.
+
+"Yes; as I was going down the Rue des Martyrs, I caught sight of a
+girl who was on the arm of an old fellow in front of me, and I said to
+myself: I know that shape. I stepped faster and sure enough found
+myself face to face with Nana. There's no need to pity her, she looked
+very happy, with her pretty woolen dress on her back, a gold cross
+and an awfully pert expression."
+
+"Ah!" repeated Gervaise in a husky voice.
+
+Lantier, who had finished the pastilles, took some barley-sugar out of
+another jar.
+
+"She's sneaky," he resumed. "She made a sign to me to follow her, with
+wonderful composure. Then she left her old fellow somewhere in a cafe
+--oh a wonderful chap, the old bloke, quite used up!--and she came and
+joined me under the doorway. A pretty little serpent, pretty, and
+doing the grand, and fawning on you like a little dog. Yes, she kissed
+me, and wanted to have news of everyone--I was very pleased to meet
+her."
+
+"Ah!" said Gervaise for the third time. She drew herself together, and
+still waited. Hadn't her daughter had a word for her then? In the
+silence Poisson's saw could be heard again. Lantier, who felt gay, was
+sucking his barley-sugar, and smacking his lips.
+
+"Well, if /I/ saw her, I should go over to the other side of the
+street," interposed Virginie, who had just pinched the hatter again
+most ferociously. "It isn't because you are there, Madame Coupeau, but
+your daughter is rotten to the core. Why, every day Poisson arrests
+girls who are better than she is."
+
+Gervaise said nothing, nor did she move; her eyes staring into space.
+She ended by jerking her head to and fro, as if in answer to her
+thoughts, whilst the hatter, with a gluttonous mien, muttered:
+
+"Ah, a man wouldn't mind getting a bit of indigestion from that sort
+of rottenness. It's as tender as chicken."
+
+But the grocer gave him such a terrible look that he had to pause and
+quiet her with some delicate attention. He watched the policeman, and
+perceiving that he had his nose lowered over his little box again, he
+profited of the opportunity to shove some barley-sugar into Virginie's
+mouth. Thereupon she laughed at him good-naturedly and turned all her
+anger against Gervaise.
+
+"Just make haste, eh? The work doesn't do itself while you remain
+stuck there like a street post. Come, look alive, I don't want to
+flounder about in the water till night time."
+
+And she added hatefully in a lower tone: "It isn't my fault if her
+daughter's gone and left her."
+
+No doubt Gervaise did not hear. She had begun to scrub the floor
+again, with her back bent and dragging herself along with a frog-like
+motion. She still had to sweep the dirty water out into the gutter,
+and then do the final rinsing.
+
+After a pause, Lantier, who felt bored, raised his voice again: "Do
+you know, Badingue," he cried, "I met your boss yesterday in the Rue
+de Rivoli. He looked awfully down in the mouth. He hasn't six months'
+life left in his body. Ah! after all, with the life he leads--"
+
+He was talking about the Emperor. The policeman did not raise his
+eyes, but curtly answered: "If you were the Government you wouldn't be
+so fat."
+
+"Oh, my dear fellow, if I were the Government," rejoined the hatter,
+suddenly affecting an air of gravity, "things would go on rather
+better, I give you my word for it. Thus, their foreign policy--why,
+for some time past it has been enough to make a fellow sweat. If I--I
+who speak to you--only knew a journalist to inspire him with my
+ideas."
+
+He was growing animated, and as he had finished crunching his barley-
+sugar, he opened a drawer from which he took a number of jujubes,
+which he swallowed while gesticulating.
+
+"It's quite simple. Before anything else, I should give Poland her
+independence again, and I should establish a great Scandinavian state
+to keep the Giant of the North at bay. Then I should make a republic
+out of all the little German states. As for England, she's scarcely to
+be feared; if she budged ever so little I should send a hundred
+thousand men to India. Add to that I should send the Sultan back to
+Mecca and the Pope to Jerusalem, belaboring their backs with the butt
+end of a rifle. Eh? Europe would soon be clean. Come, Badingue, just
+look here."
+
+He paused to take five or six jujubes in his hand. "Why, it wouldn't
+take longer than to swallow these."
+
+And he threw one jujube after another into his open mouth.
+
+"The Emperor has another plan," said the policeman, after reflecting
+for a couple of minutes.
+
+"Oh, forget it," rejoined the hatter. "We know what his plan is. All
+Europe is laughing at us. Every day the Tuileries footmen find your
+boss under the table between a couple of high society floozies."
+
+Poisson rose to his feet. He came forward and placed his hand on his
+heart, saying: "You hurt me, Auguste. Discuss, but don't involve
+personalities."
+
+Thereupon Virginie intervened, bidding them stop their row. She didn't
+care a fig for Europe. How could two men, who shared everything else,
+always be disputing about politics? For a minute they mumbled some
+indistinct words. Then the policeman, in view of showing that he
+harbored no spite, produced the cover of his little box, which he had
+just finished; it bore the inscription in marquetry: "To Auguste, a
+token of friendship." Lantier, feeling exceedingly flattered, lounged
+back and spread himself out so that he almost sat upon Virginie. And
+the husband viewed the scene with his face the color of an old wall
+and his bleared eyes fairly expressionless; but all the same, at
+moments the red hairs of his moustaches stood up on end of their own
+accord in a very singular fashion, which would have alarmed any man
+who was less sure of his business than the hatter.
+
+This beast of a Lantier had the quiet cheek which pleases ladies. As
+Poisson turned his back he was seized with the idea of printing a kiss
+on Madame Poisson's left eye. As a rule he was stealthily prudent, but
+when he had been disputing about politics he risked everything, so as
+to show the wife his superiority. These gloating caresses, cheekily
+stolen behind the policeman's back, revenged him on the Empire which
+had turned France into a house of quarrels. Only on this occasion he
+had forgotten Gervaise's presence. She had just finished rinsing and
+wiping the shop, and she stood near the counter waiting for her thirty
+sous. However, the kiss on Virginie's eye left her perfectly calm, as
+being quite natural, and as part of a business she had no right to mix
+herself up in. Virginie seemed rather vexed. She threw the thirty sous
+on to the counter in front of Gervaise. The latter did not budge but
+stood there waiting, still palpitating with the effort she had made in
+scrubbing, and looking as soaked and as ugly as a dog fished out of
+the sewer.
+
+"Then she didn't tell you anything?" she asked the hatter at last.
+
+"Who?" he cried. "Ah, yes; you mean Nana. No, nothing else. What a
+tempting mouth she has, the little hussy! Real strawberry jam!"
+
+Gervaise went off with her thirty sous in her hand. The holes in her
+shoes spat water forth like pumps; they were real musical shoes, and
+played a tune as they left moist traces of their broad soles along the
+pavement.
+
+In the neighborhood the feminine tipplers of her own class now related
+that she drank to console herself for her daughter's misconduct. She
+herself, when she gulped down her dram of spirits on the counter,
+assumed a dramatic air, and tossed the liquor into her mouth, wishing
+it would "do" for her. And on the days when she came home boozed she
+stammered that it was all through grief. But honest folks shrugged
+their shoulders. They knew what that meant: ascribing the effects of
+the peppery fire of l'Assommoir to grief, indeed! At all events, she
+ought to have called it bottled grief. No doubt at the beginning she
+couldn't digest Nana's flight. All the honest feelings remaining in
+her revolted at the thought, and besides, as a rule a mother doesn't
+like to have to think that her daughter, at that very moment, perhaps,
+is being familiarly addressed by the first chance comer. But Gervaise
+was already too stultified with a sick head and a crushed heart, to
+think of the shame for long. With her it came and went. She remained
+sometimes for a week together without thinking of her daughter, and
+then suddenly a tender or an angry feeling seized hold of her,
+sometimes when she had her stomach empty, at others when it was full,
+a furious longing to catch Nana in some corner, where she would
+perhaps have kissed her or perhaps have beaten her, according to the
+fancy of the moment.
+
+Whenever these thoughts came over her, Gervaise looked on all sides in
+the streets with the eyes of a detective. Ah! if she had only seen her
+little sinner, how quickly she would have brought her home again! The
+neighborhood was being turned topsy-turvy that year. The Boulevard
+Magenta and the Boulevard Ornano were being pierced; they were doing
+away with the old Barriere Poissonniere and cutting right through the
+outer Boulevard. The district could not be recognized. The whole of
+one side of the Rue des Poissonniers had been pulled down. From the
+Rue de la Goutte-d'Or a large clearing could now be seen, a dash of
+sunlight and open air; and in place of the gloomy buildings which had
+hidden the view in this direction there rose up on the Boulevard
+Ornano a perfect monument, a six-storied house, carved all over like a
+church, with clear windows, which, with their embroidered curtains,
+seemed symbolical of wealth. This white house, standing just in front
+of the street, illuminated it with a jet of light, as it were, and
+every day it caused discussions between Lantier and Poisson.
+
+Gervaise had several times had tidings of Nana. There are always ready
+tongues anxious to pay you a sorry compliment. Yes, she had been told
+that the hussy had left her old gentleman, just like the inexperienced
+girl she was. She had gotten along famously with him, petted, adored,
+and free, too, if she had only known how to manage the situation. But
+youth is foolish, and she had no doubt gone off with some young rake,
+no one knew exactly where. What seemed certain was that one afternoon
+she had left her old fellow on the Place de la Bastille, just for half
+a minute, and he was still waiting for her to return. Other persons
+swore they had seen her since, dancing on her heels at the "Grand Hall
+of Folly," in the Rue de la Chapelle. Then it was that Gervaise took
+it into her head to frequent all the dancing places of the
+neighborhood. She did not pass in front of a public ball-room without
+going in. Coupeau accompanied her. At first they merely made the round
+of the room, looking at the drabs who were jumping about. But one
+evening, as they had some coin, they sat down and ordered a large bowl
+of hot wine in view of regaling themselves and waiting to see if Nana
+would turn up. At the end of a month or so they had practically
+forgotten her, but they frequented the halls for their own pleasure,
+liking to look at the dancers. They would remain for hours without
+exchanging a word, resting their elbows on the table, stultified
+amidst the quaking of the floor, and yet no doubt amusing themselves
+as they stared with pale eyes at the Barriere women in the stifling
+atmosphere and ruddy glow of the hall.
+
+It happened one November evening that they went into the "Grand Hall
+of Folly" to warm themselves. Out of doors a sharp wind cut you across
+the face. But the hall was crammed. There was a thundering big swarm
+inside; people at all the tables, people in the middle, people up
+above, quite an amount of flesh. Yes, those who cared for tripes could
+enjoy themselves. When they had made the round twice without finding a
+vacant table, they decided to remain standing and wait till somebody
+went off. Coupeau was teetering on his legs, in a dirty blouse, with
+an old cloth cap which had lost its peak flattened down on his head.
+And as he blocked the way, he saw a scraggy young fellow who was
+wiping his coat-sleeve after elbowing him.
+
+"Say!" cried Coupeau in a fury, as he took his pipe out of his black
+mouth. "Can't you apologize? And you play the disgusted one? Just
+because a fellow wears a blouse!"
+
+The young man turned round and looked at the zinc-worker from head to
+foot.
+
+"I'll just teach you, you scraggy young scamp," continued Coupeau,
+"that the blouse is the finest garment out; yes! the garment of work.
+I'll wipe you if you like with my fists. Did one ever hear of such a
+thing--a ne'er-do-well insulting a workman!"
+
+Gervaise tried to calm him, but in vain. He drew himself up in his
+rags, in full view, and struck his blouse, roaring: "There's a man's
+chest under that!"
+
+Thereupon the young man dived into the midst of the crowd, muttering:
+"What a dirty blackguard!"
+
+Coupeau wanted to follow and catch him. He wasn't going to let himself
+be insulted by a fellow with a coat on. Probably it wasn't even paid
+for! Some second-hand toggery to impress a girl with, without having
+to fork out a centime. If he caught the chap again, he'd bring him
+down on his knees and make him bow to the blouse. But the crush was
+too great; there was no means of walking. He and Gervaise turned
+slowly round the dancers; there were three rows of sightseers packed
+close together, whose faces lighted up whenever any of the dancers
+showed off. As Coupeau and Gervaise were both short, they raised
+themselves up on tiptoe, trying to see something besides the chignons
+and hats that were bobbing about. The cracked brass instruments of the
+orchestra were furiously thundering a quadrille, a perfect tempest
+which made the hall shake; while the dancers, striking the floor with
+their feet, raised a cloud of dust which dimmed the brightness of the
+gas. The heat was unbearable.
+
+"Look there," said Gervaise suddenly.
+
+"Look at what?"
+
+"Why, at that velvet hat over there."
+
+They raised themselves up on tiptoe. On the left hand there was an old
+black velvet hat trimmed with ragged feathers bobbing about--regular
+hearse's plumes. It was dancing a devil of a dance, this hat--bouncing
+and whirling round, diving down and then springing up again. Coupeau
+and Gervaise lost sight of it as the people round about moved their
+heads, but then suddenly they saw it again, swaying farther off with
+such droll effrontery that folks laughed merely at the sight of this
+dancing hat, without knowing what was underneath it.
+
+"Well?" asked Coupeau.
+
+"Don't you recognize that head of hair?" muttered Gervaise in a
+stifled voice. "May my head be cut off if it isn't her."
+
+With one shove the zinc-worker made his way through the crowd. /Mon
+Dieu!/ yes, it was Nana! And in a nice pickle too! She had nothing on
+her back but an old silk dress, all stained and sticky from having
+wiped the tables of boozing dens, and with its flounces so torn that
+they fell in tatters round about. Not even a bit of a shawl over her
+shoulders. And to think that the hussy had had such an attentive,
+loving gentleman, and had yet fallen to this condition, merely for the
+sake of following some rascal who had beaten her, no doubt!
+Nevertheless she had remained fresh and insolent, with her hair as
+frizzy as a poodle's, and her mouth bright pink under that rascally
+hat of hers.
+
+"Just wait a bit, I'll make her dance!" resumed Coupeau.
+
+Naturally enough, Nana was not on her guard. You should have seen how
+she wriggled about! She twisted to the right and to the left, bending
+double as if she were going to break herself in two, and kicking her
+feet as high as her partner's face. A circle had formed about her and
+this excited her even more. She raised her skirts to her knees and
+really let herself go in a wild dance, whirling and turning, dropping
+to the floor in splits, and then jigging and bouncing.
+
+Coupeau was trying to force his way through the dancers and was
+disrupting the quadrille.
+
+"I tell you, it's my daughter!" he cried; "let me pass."
+
+Nana was now dancing backwards, sweeping the floor with her flounces,
+rounding her figure and wriggling it, so as to look all the more
+tempting. She suddenly received a masterly blow just on the right
+cheek. She raised herself up and turned quite pale on recognizing her
+father and mother. Bad luck and no mistake.
+
+"Turn him out!" howled the dancers.
+
+But Coupeau, who had just recognized his daughter's cavalier as the
+scraggy young man in the coat, did not care a fig for what the people
+said.
+
+"Yes, it's us," he roared. "Eh? You didn't expect it. So we catch you
+here, and with a whipper-snapper, too, who insulted me a little while
+ago!"
+
+Gervaise, whose teeth were tight set, pushed him aside, exclaiming,
+"Shut up. There's no need of so much explanation."
+
+And, stepping forward, she dealt Nana a couple of hearty cuffs. The
+first knocked the feathered hat on one side, and the second left a red
+mark on the girl's white cheek. Nana was too stupefied either to cry
+or resist. The orchestra continued playing, the crowd grew angry and
+repeated savagely, "Turn them out! Turn them out!"
+
+"Come, make haste!" resumed Gervaise. "Just walk in front, and don't
+try to run off. You shall sleep in prison if you do."
+
+The scraggy young man had prudently disappeared. Nana walked ahead,
+very stiff and still stupefied by her bad luck. Whenever she showed
+the lest unwillingness, a cuff from behind brought her back to the
+direction of the door. And thus they went out, all three of them, amid
+the jeers and banter of the spectators, whilst the orchestra finished
+playing the finale with such thunder that the trombones seemed to be
+spitting bullets.
+
+The old life began again. After sleeping for twelve hours in her
+closet, Nana behaved very well for a week or so. She had patched
+herself a modest little dress, and wore a cap with the strings tied
+under her chignon. Seized indeed with remarkable fervor, she declared
+she would work at home, where one could earn what one liked without
+hearing any nasty work-room talk; and she procured some work and
+installed herself at a table, getting up at five o'clock in the
+morning on the first few days to roll her sprigs of violets. But when
+she had delivered a few gross, she stretched her arms and yawned over
+her work, with her hands cramped, for she had lost her knack of stem-
+rolling, and suffocated, shut up like this at home after allowing
+herself so much open air freedom during the last six months. Then the
+glue dried, the petals and the green paper got stained with grease,
+and the flower-dealer came three times in person to make a row and
+claim his spoiled materials.
+
+Nana idled along, constantly getting a hiding from her father, and
+wrangling with her mother morning and night--quarrels in which the two
+women flung horrible words at each other's head. It couldn't last; the
+twelfth day she took herself off, with no more luggage than her modest
+dress on her back and her cap perched over one ear. The Lorilleuxs,
+who had pursed their lips on hearing of her return and repentance,
+nearly died of laughter now. Second performance, eclipse number two,
+all aboard for the train for Saint-Lazare, the prison-hospital for
+streetwalkers! No, it was really too comical. Nana took herself off in
+such an amusing style. Well, if the Coupeaus wanted to keep her in the
+future, they must shut her up in a cage.
+
+In the presence of other people the Coupeaus pretended they were very
+glad to be rid of the girl, though in reality they were enraged.
+However, rage can't last forever, and soon they heard without even
+blinking that Nana was seen in the neighborhood. Gervaise, who accused
+her of doing it to enrage them, set herself above the scandal; she
+might meet her daughter on the street, she said; she wouldn't even
+dirty her hand to cuff her; yes, it was all over; she might have seen
+her lying in the gutter, dying on the pavement, and she would have
+passed by without even admitting that such a hussy was her own child.
+
+Nana meanwhile was enlivening the dancing halls of the neighborhood.
+She was known from the "Ball of Queen Blanche" to the "Great Hall of
+Folly." When she entered the "Elysee-Montmartre," folks climbed onto
+the tables to see her do the "sniffling crawfish" during the
+pastourelle. As she had twice been turned out of the "Chateau Rouge"
+hall, she walked outside the door waiting for someone she knew to
+escort her inside. The "Black Ball" on the outer Boulevard and the
+"Grand Turk" in the Rue des Poissonniers, were respectable places
+where she only went when she had some fine dress on. Of all the
+jumping places of the neighborhood, however, those she most preferred
+were the "Hermitage Ball" in a damp courtyard and "Robert's Ball" in
+the Impasse du Cadran, two dirty little halls, lighted up with a half
+dozen oil lamps, and kept very informally, everyone pleased and
+everyone free, so much so that the men and their girls kissed each
+other at their ease, in the dances, without being disturbed. Nana had
+ups and downs, perfect transformations, now tricked out like a stylish
+woman and now all dirt. Ah! she had a fine life.
+
+On several occasions the Coupeaus fancied they saw her in some shady
+dive. They turned their backs and decamped in another direction so as
+not to be obliged to recognize her. They didn't care to be laughed at
+by a whole dancing hall again for the sake of bringing such a dolt
+home. One night as they were going to bed, however, someone knocked at
+the door. It was Nana who matter-of-factly came to ask for a bed; and
+in what a state. /Mon Dieu!/ her head was bare, her dress in tatters,
+and her boots full of holes--such a toilet as might have led the
+police to run her in, and take her off to the Depot. Naturally enough
+she received a hiding, and then she gluttonously fell on a crust of
+stale bread and went to sleep, worn out, with the last mouthful
+between her teeth.
+
+Then this sort of life continued. As soon as she was somewhat
+recovered she would go off and not a sight or sound of her. Weeks or
+months would pass and she would suddenly appear with no explanation.
+The Coupeaus got used to these comings and goings. Well, as long as
+she didn't leave the door open. What could you expect?
+
+There was only one thing that really bothered Gervaise. This was to
+see her daughter come home in a dress with a train and a hat covered
+with feathers. No, she couldn't stomach this display. Nana might
+indulge in riotous living if she chose, but when she came home to her
+mother's she ought to dress like a workgirl. The dresses with trains
+caused quite a sensation in the house; the Lorilleuxs sneered;
+Lantier, whose mouth sneered, turned the girl round to sniff at her
+delicious aroma; the Boches had forbidden Pauline to associate with
+this baggage in her frippery. And Gervaise was also angered by Nana's
+exhausted slumber, when after one of her adventures, she slept till
+noon, with her chignon undone and still full of hair pins, looking so
+white and breathing so feebly that she seemed to be dead. Her mother
+shook her five or six times in the course of the morning, threatening
+to throw a jugful of water over her. The sight of this handsome lazy
+girl, half naked and besotted with wine, exasperated her, as she saw
+her lying there. Sometimes Nana opened an eye, closed it again, and
+then stretched herself out all the more.
+
+One day after reproaching her with the life she led and asking her if
+she had taken on an entire battalion of soldiers, Gervaise put her
+threat into execution to the extent of shaking her dripping hand over
+Nana's body. Quite infuriated, the girl pulled herself up in the
+sheet, and cried out:
+
+"That's enough, mamma. It would be better not to talk of men. You did
+as you liked, and now I do the same!"
+
+"What! What!" stammered the mother.
+
+"Yes, I never spoke to you about it, for it didn't concern me; but you
+didn't used to be very fussy. I often saw you when we lived at the
+shop sneaking off as soon as papa started snoring. So just shut up;
+you shouldn't have set me the example."
+
+Gervaise remained pale, with trembling hands, turning round without
+knowing what she was about, whilst Nana, flattened on her breast,
+embraced her pillow with both arms and subsided into the torpor of her
+leaden slumber.
+
+Coupeau growled, no longer sane enough to think of launching out a
+whack. He was altogether losing his mind. And really there was no need
+to call him an unprincipled father, for liquor had deprived him of all
+consciousness of good and evil.
+
+Now it was a settled thing. He wasn't sober once in six months; then
+he was laid up and had to go into the Sainte-Anne hospital; a pleasure
+trip for him. The Lorilleuxs said that the Duke of Bowel-Twister had
+gone to visit his estates. At the end of a few weeks he left the
+asylum, repaired and set together again, and then he began to pull
+himself to bits once more, till he was down on his back and needed
+another mending. In three years he went seven times to Sainte-Anne in
+this fashion. The neighborhood said that his cell was kept ready for
+him. But the worst of the matter was that this obstinate tippler
+demolished himself more and more each time so that from relapse to
+relapse one could foresee the final tumble, the last cracking of this
+shaky cask, all the hoops of which were breaking away, one after the
+other.
+
+At the same time, he forgot to improve in appearance; a perfect ghost
+to look at! The poison was having terrible effects. By dint of
+imbibing alcohol, his body shrunk up like the embryos displayed in
+glass jars in chemical laboratories. When he approached a window you
+could see through his ribs, so skinny had he become. Those who knew
+his age, only forty years just gone, shuddered when he passed by, bent
+and unsteady, looking as old as the streets themselves. And the
+trembling of his hands increased, the right one danced to such an
+extent, that sometimes he had to take his glass between both fists to
+carry it to his lips. Oh! that cursed trembling! It was the only thing
+that worried his addled brains. You could hear him growling ferocious
+insults against those hands of his.
+
+This last summer, during which Nana usually came home to spend her
+nights, after she had finished knocking about, was especially bad for
+Coupeau. His voice changed entirely as if liquor had set a new music
+in his throat. He became deaf in one ear. Then in a few days his sight
+grew dim, and he had to clutch hold of the stair railings to prevent
+himself from falling. As for his health, he had abominable headaches
+and dizziness. All on a sudden he was seized with acute pains in his
+arms and legs; he turned pale; was obliged to sit down, and remained
+on a chair witless for hours; indeed, after one such attack, his arm
+remained paralyzed for the whole day. He took to his bed several
+times; he rolled himself up and hid himself under the sheet, breathing
+hard and continuously like a suffering animal. Then the strange scenes
+of Sainte-Anne began again. Suspicious and nervous, worried with a
+burning fever, he rolled about in a mad rage, tearing his blouse and
+biting the furniture with his convulsed jaws; or else he sank into a
+great state of emotion, complaining like a child, sobbing and
+lamenting because nobody loved him. One night when Gervaise and Nana
+returned home together they were surprised not to find him in his bed.
+He had laid the bolster in his place. And when they discovered him,
+hiding between the bed and the wall, his teeth were chattering, and he
+related that some men had come to murder him. The two women were
+obliged to put him to bed again and quiet him like a child.
+
+Coupeau knew only one remedy, to toss down a pint of spirits; a whack
+in his stomach, which set him on his feet again. This was how he
+doctored his gripes of a morning. His memory had left him long ago,
+his brain was empty; and he no sooner found himself on his feet than
+he poked fun at illness. He had never been ill. Yes, he had got to the
+point when a fellow kicks the bucket declaring that he's quite well.
+And his wits were going a-wool-gathering in other respects too. When
+Nana came home after gadding about for six weeks or so he seemed to
+fancy she had returned from doing some errand in the neighborhood.
+Often when she was hanging on an acquaintance's arm she met him and
+laughed at him without his recognizing her. In short, he no longer
+counted for anything; she might have sat down on him if she had been
+at a loss for a chair.
+
+When the first frosts came Nana took herself off once more under the
+pretence of going to the fruiterer's to see if there were any baked
+pears. She scented winter and didn't care to let her teeth chatter in
+front of the fireless stove. The Coupeaus had called her no good
+because they had waited for the pears. No doubt she would come back
+again. The other winter she had stayed away three weeks to fetch her
+father two sous' worth of tobacco. But the months went by and the girl
+did not show herself. This time she must have indulged in a hard
+gallop. When June arrived she did not even turn up with the sunshine.
+Evidently it was all over, she had found a new meal ticket somewhere
+or other. One day when the Coupeaus were totally broke they sold
+Nana's iron bedstead for six francs, which they drank together at
+Saint-Ouen. The bedstead had been in their way.
+
+One morning in July Virginie called to Gervaise, who was passing by,
+and asked her to lend a hand in washing up, for Lantier had
+entertained a couple of friends on the day before. And while Gervaise
+was cleaning up the plates and dishes, greasy with the traces of the
+spread, the hatter, who was still digesting in the shop, suddenly
+called out:
+
+"Say, I saw Nana the other day."
+
+Virginie, who was seated at the counter looking very careworn in front
+of the jars and drawers which were already three parts emptied, jerked
+her head furiously. She restrained herself so as not to say too much,
+but really it was angering her. Lantier was seeing Nana often. Oh! she
+was by no means sure of him; he was a man to do much worse than that,
+when a fancy for a woman came into his head. Madame Lerat, very
+intimate just then with Virginie, who confided in her, had that moment
+entered the shop, and hearing Lantier's remark, she pouted
+ridiculously, and asked:
+
+"What do you mean, you saw her?"
+
+"Oh, in the street here," answered the hatter, who felt highly
+flattered, and began to laugh and twirl his moustaches. "She was in a
+carriage and I was floundering on the pavement. Really it was so, I
+swear it! There's no use denying it, the young fellows of position who
+are on friendly terms with her are terribly lucky!"
+
+His eyes had brightened and he turned towards Gervaise who was
+standing in the rear of the shop wiping a dish.
+
+"Yes, she was in a carriage, and wore such a stylish dress! I didn't
+recognise her, she looked so much like a lady of the upper set, with
+her white teeth and her face as fresh as a flower. It was she who
+waved her glove to me. She has caught a count, I believe. Oh! she's
+launched for good. She can afford to do without any of us; she's head
+over heels in happiness, the little beggar! What a love of a little
+kitten! No, you've no idea what a little kitten she is!"
+
+Gervaise was still wiping the same plate, although it had long since
+been clean and shiny. Virginie was reflecting, anxious about a couple
+of bills which fell due on the morrow and which she didn't know how to
+pay; whilst Lantier, stout and fat, perspiring the sugar he fed off,
+ventured his enthusiasm for well-dressed little hussies. The shop,
+which was already three parts eaten up, smelt of ruin. Yes, there were
+only a few more burnt almonds to nibble, a little more barley-sugar to
+suck, to clean the Poissons' business out. Suddenly, on the pavement
+over the way, he perceived the policeman, who was on duty, pass by all
+buttoned up with his sword dangling by his side. And this made him all
+the gayer. He compelled Virginie to look at her husband.
+
+"Dear me," he muttered, "Badingue looks fine this morning! Just look,
+see how stiff he walks. He must have stuck a glass eye in his back to
+surprise people."
+
+When Gervaise went back upstairs, she found Coupeau seated on the bed,
+in the torpid state induced by one of his attacks. He was looking at
+the window-panes with his dim expressionless eyes. She sat herself
+down on a chair, tired out, her hands hanging beside her dirty skirt;
+and for a quarter of an hour she remained in front of him without
+saying a word.
+
+"I've had some news," she muttered at last. "Your daughter's been
+seen. Yes, your daughter's precious stylish and hasn't any more need
+of you. She's awfully happy, she is! Ah! /Mon Dieu!/ I'd give a great
+deal to be in her place."
+
+Coupeau was still staring at the window-pane. But suddenly he raised
+his ravaged face, and stammered with an idiotic laugh:
+
+"Well, my little lamb, I'm not stopping you. You're not yet so bad
+looking when you wash yourself. As folks say, however old a pot may
+be, it ends by finding its lid. And, after all, I wouldn't care if it
+only buttered our bread."
+
+
+
+                             CHAPTER XII
+
+It must have been the Saturday after quarter day, something like the
+12th or 13th of January--Gervaise didn't quite know. She was losing
+her wits, for it was centuries since she had had anything warm in her
+stomach. Ah! what an infernal week! A complete clear out. Two loaves
+of four pounds each on Tuesday, which had lasted till Thursday; then a
+dry crust found the night before, and finally not a crumb for thirty-
+six hours, a real dance before the cupboard! What did she know, by the
+way, what she felt on her back, was the frightful cold, a black cold,
+the sky as grimy as a frying-pan, thick with snow which obstinately
+refused to fall. When winter and hunger are both together in your
+guts, you may tighten your belt as much as you like, it hardly feeds
+you.
+
+Perhaps Coupeau would bring back some money in the evening. He said
+that he was working. Anything is possible, isn't it? And Gervaise,
+although she had been caught many and many a time, had ended by
+relying on this coin. After all sorts of incidents, she herself
+couldn't find as much as a duster to wash in the whole neighborhood;
+and even an old lady, whose rooms she did, had just given her the
+sack, charging her with swilling her liqueurs. No one would engage
+her, she was washed up everywhere; and this secretly suited her, for
+she had fallen to that state of indifference when one prefers to croak
+rather than move one's fingers. At all events, if Coupeau brought his
+pay home they would have something warm to eat. And meanwhile, as it
+wasn't yet noon, she remained stretched on the mattress, for one
+doesn't feel so cold or so hungry when one is lying down.
+
+The bed was nothing but a pile of straw in a corner. Bed and bedding
+had gone, piece by piece, to the second-hand dealers of the
+neighborhood. First she had ripped open the mattress to sell handfuls
+of wool at ten sous a pound. When the mattress was empty she got
+thirty sous for the sack so as to be able to have coffee. Everything
+else had followed. Well, wasn't the straw good enough for them?
+
+Gervaise bent herself like a gun-trigger on the heap of straw, with
+her clothes on and her feet drawn up under her rag of a skirt, so as
+to keep them warm. And huddled up, with her eyes wide open, she turned
+some scarcely amusing ideas over in her mind that morning. Ah! no,
+they couldn't continue living without food. She no longer felt her
+hunger, only she had a leaden weight on her chest and her brain seemed
+empty. Certainly there was nothing gay to look at in the four corners
+of the hovel. A perfect kennel now, where greyhounds, who wear
+wrappers in the streets, would not even have lived in effigy. Her pale
+eyes stared at the bare walls. Everything had long since gone to
+"uncle's." All that remained were the chest of drawers, the table and
+a chair. Even the marble top of the chest of drawers and the drawers
+themselves, had evaporated in the same direction as the bedstead. A
+fire could not have cleaned them out more completely; the little
+knick-knacks had melted, beginning with the ticker, a twelve franc
+watch, down to the family photos, the frames of which had been bought
+by a woman keeping a second-hand store; a very obliging woman, by the
+way, to whom Gervaise carried a saucepan, an iron, a comb and who gave
+her five, three or two sous in exchange, according to the article;
+enough, at all events to go upstairs again with a bit of bread. But
+now there only remained a broken pair of candle snuffers, which the
+woman refused to give her even a sou for.
+
+Oh! if she could only have sold the rubbish and refuse, the dust and
+the dirt, how speedily she would have opened shop, for the room was
+filthy to behold! She only saw cobwebs in the corners and although
+cobwebs are good for cuts, there are, so far, no merchants who buy
+them. Then turning her head, abandoning the idea of doing a bit of
+trade, Gervaise gathered herself together more closely on her straw,
+preferring to stare through the window at the snow-laden sky, at the
+dreary daylight, which froze the marrow in her bones.
+
+What a lot of worry! Though, after all, what was the use of putting
+herself in such a state and puzzling her brains? If she had only been
+able to have a snooze. But her hole of a home wouldn't go out of her
+mind. Monsieur Marescot, the landlord had come in person the day
+before to tell them that he would turn them out into the street if the
+two quarters' rent now overdue were not paid during the ensuing week.
+Well, so he might, they certainly couldn't be worse off on the
+pavement! Fancy this ape, in his overcoat and his woolen gloves,
+coming upstairs to talk to them about rent, as if they had had a
+treasure hidden somewhere!
+
+Just the same with that brute of a Coupeau, who couldn't come home now
+without beating her; she wished him in the same place as the landlord.
+She sent them all there, wishing to rid herself of everyone, and of
+life too. She was becoming a real storehouse for blows. Coupeau had a
+cudgel, which he called his ass's fan, and he fanned his old woman.
+You should just have seen him giving her abominable thrashings, which
+made her perspire all over. She was no better herself, for she bit and
+scratched him. Then they stamped about in the empty room and gave each
+other such drubbings as were likely to ease them of all taste for
+bread for good. But Gervaise ended by not caring a fig for these
+thwacks, not more than she did for anything else. Coupeau might
+celebrate Saint Monday for weeks altogether, go off on the spree for
+months at a time, come home mad with liquor, and seek to sharpen her
+as he said, she had grown accustomed to it, she thought him tiresome,
+but nothing more. It was on these occasions that she wished him
+somewhere else. Yes, somewhere, her beast of a man and the Lorilleuxs,
+the Boches, and the Poissons too; in fact, the whole neighborhood,
+which she had such contempt for. She sent all Paris there with a
+gesture of supreme carelessness, and was pleased to be able to revenge
+herself in this style.
+
+One could get used to almost anything, but still, it is hard to break
+the habit of eating. That was the one thing that really annoyed
+Gervaise, the hunger that kept gnawing at her insides. Oh, those
+pleasant little snacks she used to have. Now she had fallen low enough
+to gobble anything she could find.
+
+On special occasions, she would get waste scraps of meat from the
+butcher for four sous a pound. Blacked and dried out meat that
+couldn't find a purchaser. She would mix this with potatoes for a
+stew. On other occasions, when she had some wine, she treated herself
+to a sop, a true parrot's pottage. Two sous' worth of Italian cheese,
+bushels of white potatoes, quarts of dry beans, cooked in their own
+juice, these also were dainties she was not often able to indulge in
+now. She came down to leavings from low eating dens, where for a sou
+she had a pile of fish-bones, mixed with the parings of moldy roast
+meat. She fell even lower--she begged a charitable eating-house keeper
+to give her his customers' dry crusts, and she made herself a bread
+soup, letting the crusts simmer as long as possible on a neighbor's
+fire. On the days when she was really hungry, she searched about with
+the dogs, to see what might be lying outside the tradespeople's doors
+before the dustmen went by; and thus at times she came across rich
+men's food, rotten melons, stinking mackerel and chops, which she
+carefully inspected for fear of maggots.
+
+Yes, she had come to this. The idea may be a repugnant one to
+delicate-minded folks, but if they hadn't chewed anything for three
+days running, we should hardly see them quarreling with their
+stomachs; they would go down on all fours and eat filth like other
+people. Ah! the death of the poor, the empty entrails, howling hunger,
+the animal appetite that leads one with chattering teeth to fill one's
+stomach with beastly refuse in this great Paris, so bright and golden!
+And to think that Gervaise used to fill her belly with fat goose! Now
+the thought of it brought tears to her eyes. One day, when Coupeau
+bagged two bread tickets from her to go and sell them and get some
+liquor, she nearly killed him with the blow of a shovel, so hungered
+and so enraged was she by this theft of a bit of bread.
+
+However, after a long contemplation of the pale sky, she had fallen
+into a painful doze. She dreamt that the snow-laden sky was falling on
+her, so cruelly did the cold pinch. Suddenly she sprang to her feet,
+awakened with a start by a shudder of anguish. /Mon Dieu!/ was she
+going to die? Shivering and haggard she perceived that it was still
+daylight. Wouldn't the night ever come? How long the time seems when
+the stomach is empty! Hers was waking up in its turn and beginning to
+torture her. Sinking down on the chair, with her head bent and her
+hands between her legs to warm them, she began to think what they
+would have for dinner as soon as Coupeau brought the money home: a
+loaf, a quart of wine and two platefuls of tripe in the Lyonnaise
+fashion. Three o'clock struck by father Bazouge's clock. Yes, it was
+only three o'clock. Then she began to cry. She would never have
+strength enough to wait until seven. Her body swayed backwards and
+forwards, she oscillated like a child nursing some sharp pain, bending
+herself double and crushing her stomach so as not to feel it. Ah! an
+accouchement is less painful than hunger! And unable to ease herself,
+seized with rage, she rose and stamped about, hoping to send her
+hunger to sleep by walking it to and fro like an infant. For half an
+hour or so, she knocked against the four corners of the empty room.
+Then, suddenly, she paused with a fixed stare. So much the worse! They
+might say what they liked; she would lick their feet if needs be, but
+she would go and ask the Lorilleuxs to lend her ten sous.
+
+At winter time, up these stairs of the house, the paupers' stairs,
+there was a constant borrowing of ten sous and twenty sous, petty
+services which these hungry beggars rendered each other. Only they
+would rather have died than have applied to the Lorilleuxs, for they
+knew they were too tight-fisted. Thus Gervaise displayed remarkable
+courage in going to knock at their door. She felt so frightened in the
+passage that she experienced the sudden relief of people who ring a
+dentist's bell.
+
+"Come in!" cried the chainmaker in a sour voice.
+
+How warm and nice it was inside. The forge was blazing, its white
+flame lighting up the narrow workroom, whilst Madame Lorilleux set a
+coil of gold wire to heat. Lorilleux, in front of his worktable, was
+perspiring with the warmth as he soldered the links of a chain
+together. And it smelt nice. Some cabbage soup was simmering on the
+stove, exhaling a steam which turned Gervaise's heart topsy-turvy, and
+almost made her faint.
+
+"Ah! it's you," growled Madame Lorilleux, without even asking her to
+sit down. "What do you want?"
+
+Gervaise did not answer for a moment. She had recently been on fairly
+good terms with the Lorilleuxs, but she saw Boche sitting by the
+stove. He seemed very much at home, telling funny stories.
+
+"What do you want?" repeated Lorilleux.
+
+"You haven't seen Coupeau?" Gervaise finally stammered at last. "I
+thought he was here."
+
+The chainmakers and the concierge sneered. No, for certain, they
+hadn't seen Coupeau. They didn't stand treat often enough to interest
+Coupeau. Gervaise made an effort and resumed, stuttering:
+
+"It's because he promised to come home. Yes, he's to bring me some
+money. And as I have absolute need of something--"
+
+Silence followed. Madame Lorilleux was roughly fanning the fire of the
+stove; Lorilleux had lowered his nose over the bit of chain between
+his fingers, while Boche continued laughing, puffing out his face till
+it looked like the full moon.
+
+"If I only had ten sous," muttered Gervaise, in a low voice.
+
+The silence persisted.
+
+"Couldn't you lend me ten sous? Oh! I would return them to you this
+evening!"
+
+Madame Lorilleux turned round and stared at her. Here was a wheedler
+trying to get round them. To-day she asked them for ten sous,
+to-morrow it would be for twenty, and there would be no reason to
+stop. No, indeed; it would be a warm day in winter if they lent her
+anything.
+
+"But, my dear," cried Madame Lorilleux. "You know very well that we
+haven't any money! Look! There's the lining of my pocket. You can
+search us. If we could, it would be with a willing heart, of course."
+
+"The heart's always there," growled Lorilleux. "Only when one can't,
+one can't."
+
+Gervaise looked very humble and nodded her head approvingly. However,
+she did not take herself off. She squinted at the gold, at the gold
+tied together hanging on the walls, at the gold wire the wife was
+drawing out with all the strength of her little arms, at the gold
+links lying in a heap under the husband's knotty fingers. And she
+thought that the least bit of this ugly black metal would suffice to
+buy her a good dinner. The workroom was as dirty as ever, full of old
+iron, coal dust and sticky oil stains, half wiped away; but now, as
+Gervaise saw it, it seemed resplendent with treasure, like a money
+changer's shop. And so she ventured to repeat softly: "I would return
+them to you, return them without fail. Ten sous wouldn't inconvenience
+you."
+
+Her heart was swelling with the effort she made not to own that she
+had had nothing to eat since the day before. Then she felt her legs
+give way. She was frightened that she might burst into tears, and she
+still stammered:
+
+"It would be kind of you! You don't know. Yes, I'm reduced to that,
+good Lord--reduced to that!"
+
+Thereupon the Lorilleuxs pursed their lips and exchanged covert
+glances. So Clump-clump was begging now! Well, the fall was complete.
+But they did not care for that kind of thing by any means. If they had
+known, they would have barricaded the door, for people should always
+be on their guard against beggars--folks who make their way into
+apartments under a pretext and carry precious objects away with them;
+and especially so in this place, as there was something worth while
+stealing. One might lay one's fingers no matter where, and carry off
+thirty or forty francs by merely closing the hands. They had felt
+suspicious several times already on noticing how strange Gervaise
+looked when she stuck herself in front of the gold. This time,
+however, they meant to watch her. And as she approached nearer, with
+her feet on the board, the chainmaker roughly called out, without
+giving any further answer to her question: "Look out, pest--take care;
+you'll be carrying some scraps of gold away on the soles of your
+shoes. One would think you had greased them on purpose to make the
+gold stick to them."
+
+Gervaise slowly drew back. For a moment she leant against a rack, and
+seeing that Madame Lorilleux was looking at her hands, she opened them
+and showed them, saying softly, without the least anger, like a fallen
+women who accepts anything:
+
+"I have taken nothing; you can look."
+
+And then she went off, because the strong smell of the cabbage soup
+and the warmth of the workroom made her feel too ill.
+
+Ah! the Lorilleuxs did not detain her. Good riddance; just see if they
+opened the door to her again. They had seen enough of her face. They
+didn't want other people's misery in their rooms, especially when that
+misery was so well deserved. They reveled in their selfish delight at
+being seated so cozily in a warm room, with a dainty soup cooking.
+Boche also stretched himself, puffing with his cheeks still more and
+more, so much, indeed, that his laugh really became indecent. They
+were all nicely revenged on Clump-clump, for her former manners, her
+blue shop, her spreads, and all the rest. It had all worked out just
+as it should, proving where a love of showing-off would get you.
+
+"So that is the style now? Begging for ten sous," cried Madame
+Lorilleux as soon as Gervaise had gone. "Wait a bit; I'll lend her ten
+sous, and no mistake, to go and get drunk with."
+
+Gervaise shuffled along the passage in her slippers, bending her back
+and feeling heavy. On reaching her door she did not open it--her room
+frightened her. It would be better to walk about, she would learn
+patience. As she passed by she stretched out her neck, peering into
+Pere Bru's kennel under the stairs. There, for instance, was another
+one who must have a fine appetite, for he had breakfasted and dined by
+heart during the last three days. However, he wasn't at home, there
+was only his hole, and Gervaise felt somewhat jealous, thinking that
+perhaps he had been invited somewhere. Then, as she reached the
+Bijards' she heard Lalie moaning, and, as the key was in the lock as
+usual, she opened the door and went in.
+
+"What is the matter?" she asked.
+
+The room was very clean. One could see that Lalie had carefully swept
+it, and arranged everything during the morning. Misery might blow into
+the room as much as it liked, carry off the chattels and spread all
+the dirt and refuse about. Lalie, however, came behind and tidied
+everything, imparting, at least, some appearance of comfort within.
+She might not be rich, but you realized that there was a housewife in
+the place. That afternoon her two little ones, Henriette and Jules,
+had found some old pictures which they were cutting out in a corner.
+But Gervaise was greatly surprised to see Lalie herself in bed,
+looking very pale, with the sheet drawn up to her chin. In bed,
+indeed, then she must be seriously ill!
+
+"What is the matter with you?" inquired Gervaise, feeling anxious.
+
+Lalie no longer groaned. She slowly raised her white eyelids, and
+tried to compel her lips to smile, although they were convulsed by a
+shudder.
+
+"There's nothing the matter with me," she whispered very softly.
+"Really nothing at all."
+
+Then, closing her eyes again, she added with an effort:
+
+"I made myself too tired during the last few days, and so I'm doing
+the idle; I'm nursing myself, as you see."
+
+But her childish face, streaked with livid stains, assumed such an
+expression of anguish that Gervaise, forgetting her own agony, joined
+her hands and fell on her knees near the bed. For the last month she
+had seen the girl clinging to the walls for support when she went
+about, bent double indeed, by a cough which seemed to presage a
+coffin. Now the poor child could not even cough. She had a hiccough
+and drops of blood oozed from the corners of her mouth.
+
+"It's not my fault if I hardly feel strong," she murmured, as if
+relieved. "I've tired myself to-day, trying to put things to rights.
+It's pretty tidy, isn't it? And I wanted to clean the windows as well,
+but my legs failed me. How stupid! However, when one has finished one
+can go to bed."
+
+She paused, then said, "Pray, see if my little ones are not cutting
+themselves with the scissors."
+
+And then she relapsed into silence, trembling and listening to a heavy
+footfall which was approaching up the stairs. Suddenly father Bijard
+brutally opened the door. As usual he was far gone, and his eyes shone
+with the furious madness imparted by the vitriol he had swallowed.
+When he perceived Lalie in bed, he tapped on his thighs with a sneer,
+and took the whip from where it hung.
+
+"Ah! by blazes, that's too much," he growled, "we'll soon have a
+laugh. So the cows lie down on their straw at noon now! Are you poking
+fun at me, you lazy beggar? Come, quick now, up you get!"
+
+And he cracked the whip over the bed. But the child beggingly replied:
+
+"Pray, papa, don't--don't strike me. I swear to you you will regret
+it. Don't strike!"
+
+"Will you jump up?" he roared still louder, "or else I'll tickle your
+ribs! Jump up, you little hound!"
+
+Then she softly said, "I can't--do you understand? I'm going to die."
+
+Gervaise had sprung upon Bijard and torn the whip away from him. He
+stood bewildered in front of the bed. What was the dirty brat talking
+about? Do girls die so young without even having been ill? Some excuse
+to get sugar out of him no doubt. Ah! he'd make inquiries, and if she
+lied, let her look out!
+
+"You will see, it's the truth," she continued. "As long as I could I
+avoided worrying you; but be kind now, and bid me good-bye, papa."
+
+Bijard wriggled his nose as if he fancied she was deceiving him. And
+yet it was true she had a singular look, the serious mien of a grown
+up person. The breath of death which passed through the room in some
+measure sobered him. He gazed around like a man awakened from a long
+sleep, saw the room so tidy, the two children clean, playing and
+laughing. And then he sank on to a chair stammering, "Our little
+mother, our little mother."
+
+Those were the only words he could find to say, and yet they were very
+tender ones to Lalie, who had never been much spoiled. She consoled
+her father. What especially worried her was to go off like this
+without having completely brought up the little ones. He would take
+care of them, would he not? With her dying breath she told him how
+they ought to be cared for and kept clean. But stultified, with the
+fumes of drink seizing hold of him again, he wagged his head, watching
+her with an uncertain stare as she was dying. All kind of things were
+touched in him, but he could find no more to say and he was too
+utterly burnt with liquor to shed a tear.
+
+"Listen," resumed Lalie, after a pause. "We owe four francs and seven
+sous to the baker; you must pay that. Madame Gaudron borrowed an iron
+of ours, which you must get from her. I wasn't able to make any soup
+this evening, but there's some bread left and you can warm up the
+potatoes."
+
+Till her last rattle, the poor kitten still remained the little
+mother. Surely she could never be replaced! She was dying because she
+had had, at her age, a true mother's reason, because her breast was
+too small and weak for so much maternity. And if her ferocious beast
+of a father lost his treasure, it was his own fault. After kicking the
+mother to death, hadn't he murdered the daughter as well? The two good
+angels would lie in the pauper's grave and all that could be in store
+for him was to kick the bucket like a dog in the gutter.
+
+Gervaise restrained herself not to burst out sobbing. She extended her
+hands, desirous of easing the child, and as the shred of a sheet was
+falling, she wished to tack it up and arrange the bed. Then the dying
+girl's poor little body was seen. Ah! /Mon Dieu!/ what misery! What
+woe! Stones would have wept. Lalie was bare, with only the remnants of
+a camisole on her shoulders by way of chemise; yes, bare, with the
+grievous, bleeding nudity of a martyr. She had no flesh left; her
+bones seemed to protrude through the skin. From her ribs to her thighs
+there extended a number of violet stripes--the marks of the whip
+forcibly imprinted on her. A livid bruise, moreover, encircled her
+left arm, as if the tender limb, scarcely larger than a lucifer, had
+been crushed in a vise. There was also an imperfectly closed wound on
+her right leg, left there by some ugly blow and which opened again and
+again of a morning, when she went about doing her errands. From head
+to foot, indeed, she was but one bruise! Oh! this murdering of
+childhood; those heavy hands crushing this lovely girl; how abominable
+that such weakness should have such a weighty cross to bear! Again did
+Gervaise crouch down, no longer thinking of tucking in the sheet, but
+overwhelmed by the pitiful sight of this martyrdom; and her trembling
+lips seemed to be seeking for words of prayer.
+
+"Madame Coupeau," murmured the child, "I beg you--"
+
+With her little arms she tried to draw up the sheet again, ashamed as
+it were for her father. Bijard, as stultified as ever, with his eyes
+on the corpse which was his own work, still wagged his head, but more
+slowly, like a worried animal might do.
+
+When she had covered Lalie up again, Gervaise felt she could not
+remain there any longer. The dying girl was growing weaker and ceased
+speaking; all that was left to her was her gaze--the dark look she had
+had as a resigned and thoughtful child and which she now fixed on her
+two little ones who were still cutting out their pictures. The room
+was growing gloomy and Bijard was working off his liquor while the
+poor girl was in her death agonies. No, no, life was too abominable!
+How frightful it was! How frightful! And Gervaise took herself off,
+and went down the stairs, not knowing what she was doing, her head
+wandering and so full of disgust that she would willingly have thrown
+herself under the wheels of an omnibus to have finished with her own
+existence.
+
+As she hastened on, growling against cursed fate, she suddenly found
+herself in front of the place where Coupeau pretended that he worked.
+Her legs had taken her there, and now her stomach began singing its
+song again, the complaint of hunger in ninety verses--a complaint she
+knew by heart. However, if she caught Coupeau as he left, she would be
+able to pounce upon the coin at once and buy some grub. A short hour's
+waiting at the utmost; she could surely stay that out, though she had
+sucked her thumbs since the day before.
+
+She was at the corner of Rue de la Charbonniere and Rue de Chartres.
+A chill wind was blowing and the sky was an ugly leaden grey. The
+impending snow hung over the city but not a flake had fallen as yet.
+She tried stamping her feet to keep warm, but soon stopped as there
+was no use working up an appetite.
+
+There was nothing amusing about. The few passers-by strode rapidly
+along, wrapped up in comforters; naturally enough one does not care to
+tarry when the cold is nipping at your heels. However, Gervaise
+perceived four or five women who were mounting guard like herself
+outside the door of the zinc-works; unfortunate creatures of course--
+wives watching for the pay to prevent it going to the dram-shop. There
+was a tall creature as bulky as a gendarme leaning against the wall,
+ready to spring on her husband as soon as he showed himself. A dark
+little woman with a delicate humble air was walking about on the other
+side of the way. Another one, a fat creature, had brought her two
+brats with her and was dragging them along, one on either hand, and
+both of them shivering and sobbing. And all these women, Gervaise like
+the others, passed and repassed, exchanging glances, but without
+speaking to one another. A pleasant meeting and no mistake. They
+didn't need to make friends to learn what number they lived at. They
+could all hang out the same sideboard, "Misery & Co." It seemed to
+make one feel even colder to see them walk about in silence, passing
+each other in this terrible January weather.
+
+However, nobody as yet left the zinc-works. But presently one workman
+appeared, then two, and then three, but these were no doubt decent
+fellows who took their pay home regularly, for they jerked their heads
+significantly as they saw the shadows wandering up and down. The tall
+creature stuck closer than ever to the side of the door, and suddenly
+fell upon a pale little man who was prudently poking his head out. Oh!
+it was soon settled! She searched him and collared his coin. Caught,
+no more money, not even enough to pay for a dram! Then the little man,
+looking very vexed and cast down, followed his gendarme, weeping like
+a child. The workmen were still coming out; and as the fat mother with
+the two brats approached the door, a tall fellow, with a cunning look,
+who noticed her, went hastily inside again to warn her husband; and
+when the latter arrived he had stuffed a couple of cart wheels away,
+two beautiful new five franc pieces, one in each of his shoes. He took
+one of the brats on his arm, and went off telling a variety of lies to
+his old woman who was complaining. There were other workmen also,
+mournful-looking fellows, who carried in their clinched fists the pay
+for the three or five days' work they had done during a fortnight, who
+reproached themselves with their own laziness, and took drunkards'
+oaths. But the saddest thing of all was the grief of the dark little
+woman, with the humble, delicate look; her husband, a handsome fellow,
+took himself off under her very nose, and so brutally indeed that he
+almost knocked her down, and she went home alone, stumbling past the
+shops and weeping all the tears in her body.
+
+At last the defile finished. Gervaise, who stood erect in the middle
+of the street, was still watching the door. The look-out seemed a bad
+one. A couple of workmen who were late appeared on the threshold, but
+there were still no signs of Coupeau. And when she asked the workmen
+if Coupeau wasn't coming, they answered her, being up to snuff, that
+he had gone off by the back-door with Lantimeche. Gervaise understood
+what this meant. Another of Coupeau's lies; she could whistle for him
+if she liked. Then shuffling along in her worn-out shoes, she went
+slowly down the Rue de la Charbonniere. Her dinner was going off in
+front of her, and she shuddered as she saw it running away in the
+yellow twilight. This time it was all over. Not a copper, not a hope,
+nothing but night and hunger. Ah! a fine night to kick the bucket,
+this dirty night which was falling over her shoulders!
+
+She was walking heavily up the Rue des Poissonniers when she suddenly
+heard Coupeau's voice. Yes, he was there in the Little Civet, letting
+My-Boots treat him. That comical chap, My-Boots, had been cunning
+enough at the end of last summer to espouse in authentic fashion a
+lady who, although rather advanced in years, had still preserved
+considerable traces of beauty. She was a lady-of-the-evening of the
+Rue des Martyrs, none of your common street hussies. And you should
+have seen this fortunate mortal, living like a man of means, with his
+hands in his pockets, well clad and well fed. He could hardly be
+recognised, so fat had he grown. His comrades said that his wife had
+as much work as she liked among the gentlemen of her acquaintance. A
+wife like that and a country-house is all one can wish for to
+embellish one's life. And so Coupeau squinted admiringly at My-Boots.
+Why, the lucky dog even had a gold ring on his little finger!
+
+Gervaise touched Coupeau on the shoulder just as he was coming out of
+the little Civet.
+
+"Say, I'm waiting; I'm hungry! I've got an empty stomach which is all
+I ever get from you."
+
+But he silenced her in a capital style, "You're hungry, eh? Well, eat
+your fist, and keep the other for to-morrow."
+
+He considered it highly improper to do the dramatic in other people's
+presence. What, he hadn't worked, and yet the bakers kneaded bread all
+the same. Did she take him for a fool, to come and try to frighten him
+with her stories?
+
+"Do you want me to turn thief?" she muttered, in a dull voice.
+
+My-Boots stroked his chin in conciliatory fashion. "No, that's
+forbidden," said he. "But when a woman knows how to handle herself--"
+
+And Coupeau interrupted him to call out "Bravo!" Yes, a woman always
+ought to know how to handle herself, but his wife had always been a
+helpless thing. It would be her fault if they died on the straw. Then
+he relapsed into his admiration for My-Boots. How awfully fine he
+looked! A regular landlord; with clean linen and swell shoes! They
+were no common stuff! His wife, at all events, knew how to keep the
+pot boiling!
+
+The two men walked towards the outer Boulevard, and Gervaise followed
+them. After a pause, she resumed, talking behind Coupeau's back: "I'm
+hungry; you know, I relied on you. You must find me something to
+nibble."
+
+He did not answer, and she repeated, in a tone of despairing agony:
+"Is that all I get from you?"
+
+"/Mon Dieu!/ I've no coin," he roared, turning round in a fury. "Just
+leave me alone, eh? Or else I'll hit you."
+
+He was already raising his fist. She drew back, and seemed to make up
+her mind. "All right, I'll leave you. I guess I can find a man."
+
+The zinc-worker laughed at this. He pretended to make a joke of the
+matter, and strengthened her purpose without seeming to do so. That
+was a fine idea of hers, and no mistake! In the evening, by gaslight,
+she might still hook a man. He recommended her to try the Capuchin
+restaurant where one could dine very pleasantly in a small private
+room. And, as she went off along the Boulevard, looking pale and
+furious he called out to her: "Listen, bring me back some dessert. I
+like cakes! And if your gentleman is well dressed, ask him for an old
+overcoat. I could use one."
+
+With these words ringing in her ears, Gervaise walked softly away. But
+when she found herself alone in the midst of the crowd, she slackened
+her pace. She was quite resolute. Between thieving and the other, well
+she preferred the other; for at all events she wouldn't harm any one.
+No doubt it wasn't proper. But what was proper and what was improper
+was sorely muddled together in her brain. When you are dying of
+hunger, you don't philosophize, you eat whatever bread turns up. She
+had gone along as far as the Chaussee-Clignancourt. It seemed as if
+the night would never come. However, she followed the Boulevards like
+a lady who is taking a stroll before dinner. The neighborhood in which
+she felt so ashamed, so greatly was it being embellished, was now full
+of fresh air.
+
+Lost in the crowd on the broad footway, walking past the little plane
+trees, Gervaise felt alone and abandoned. The vistas of the avenues
+seemed to empty her stomach all the more. And to think that among this
+flood of people there were many in easy circumstances, and yet not a
+Christian who could guess her position, and slip a ten sous piece into
+her hand! Yes, it was too great and too beautiful; her head swam and
+her legs tottered under this broad expanse of grey sky stretched over
+so vast a space. The twilight had the dirty-yellowish tinge of
+Parisian evenings, a tint that gives you a longing to die at once, so
+ugly does street life seem. The horizon was growing indistinct,
+assuming a mud-colored tinge as it were. Gervaise, who was already
+weary, met all the workpeople returning home. At this hour of the day
+the ladies in bonnets and the well-dressed gentlemen living in the new
+houses mingled with the people, with the files of men and women still
+pale from inhaling the tainted atmosphere of workshops and workrooms.
+From the Boulevard Magenta and the Rue du Faubourg-Poissonniere, came
+bands of people, rendered breathless by their uphill walk. As the
+omnivans and the cabs rolled by less noiselessly among the vans and
+trucks returning home empty at a gallop, an ever-increasing swarm of
+blouses and blue vests covered the pavement. Commissionaires returned
+with their crotchets on their backs. Two workmen took long strides
+side by side, talking to each other in loud voices, with any amount of
+gesticulation, but without looking at one another; others who were
+alone in overcoats and caps walked along the curbstones with lowered
+noses; others again came in parties of five or six, following each
+other, with pale eyes and their hands in their pockets and not
+exchanging a word. Some still had their pipes, which had gone out
+between their teeth. Four masons poked their white faces out of the
+windows of a cab which they had hired between them, and on the roof of
+which their mortar-troughs rocked to and fro. House-painters were
+swinging their pots; a zinc-worker was returning laden with a long
+ladder, with which he almost poked people's eyes out; whilst a belated
+plumber, with his box on his back, played the tune of "The Good King
+Dagobert" on his little trumpet. Ah! the sad music, a fitting
+accompaniment to the tread of the flock, the tread of the weary beasts
+of burden.
+
+Suddenly on raising her eyes she noticed the old Hotel Boncoeur in
+front of her. After being an all-night cafe, which the police had
+closed down, the little house was now abandoned; the shutters were
+covered with posters, the lantern was broken, and the whole building
+was rotting and crumbling away from top to bottom, with its smudgy
+claret-colored paint, quite moldy. The stationer's and the
+tobacconist's were still there. In the rear, over some low buildings,
+you could see the leprous facades of several five-storied houses
+rearing their tumble-down outlines against the sky. The "Grand
+Balcony" dancing hall no longer existed; some sugar-cutting works,
+which hissed continually, had been installed in the hall with the ten
+flaming windows. And yet it was here, in this dirty den--the Hotel
+Boncoeur--that the whole cursed life had commenced. Gervaise remained
+looking at the window of the first floor, from which hung a broken
+shutter, and recalled to mind her youth with Lantier, their first rows
+and the ignoble way in which he had abandoned her. Never mind, she was
+young then, and it all seemed gay to her, seen from a distance. Only
+twenty years. /Mon Dieu!/ and yet she had fallen to street-walking.
+Then the sight of the lodging house oppressed her and she walked up
+the Boulevard in the direction of Montmartre.
+
+The night was gathering, but children were still playing on the heaps
+of sand between the benches. The march past continued, the workgirls
+went by, trotting along and hurrying to make up for the time they had
+lost in looking in at the shop windows; one tall girl, who had
+stopped, left her hand in that of a big fellow, who accompanied her to
+within three doors of her home; others as they parted from each other,
+made appointments for the night at the "Great Hall of Folly" or the
+"Black Ball." In the midst of the groups, piece-workmen went by,
+carrying their clothes folded under their arms. A chimney sweep,
+harnessed with leather braces, was drawing a cart along, and nearly
+got himself crushed by an omnibus. Among the crowd which was now
+growing scantier, there were several women running with bare heads;
+after lighting the fire, they had come downstairs again and were
+hastily making their purchases for dinner; they jostled the people
+they met, darted into the bakers' and the pork butchers', and went off
+again with all despatch, their provisions in their hands. There were
+little girls of eight years old, who had been sent out on errands, and
+who went along past the shops, pressing long loaves of four pounds'
+weight, as tall as they were themselves, against their chests, as if
+these loaves had been beautiful yellow dolls; at times these little
+ones forgot themselves for five minutes or so, in front of some
+pictures in a shop window, and rested their cheeks against the bread.
+Then the flow subsided, the groups became fewer and farther between,
+the working classes had gone home; and as the gas blazed now that the
+day's toil was over, idleness and amusement seemed to wake up.
+
+Ah! yes; Gervaise had finished her day! She was wearier even than all
+this mob of toilers who had jostled her as they went by. She might lie
+down there and croak, for work would have nothing more to do with her,
+and she had toiled enough during her life to say: "Whose turn now?
+I've had enough." At present everyone was eating. It was really the
+end, the sun had blown out its candle, the night would be a long one.
+/Mon Dieu!/ To stretch one's self at one's ease and never get up
+again; to think one had put one's tools by for good and that one could
+ruminate like a cow forever! That's what is good, after tiring one's
+self out for twenty years! And Gervaise, as hunger twisted her
+stomach, thought in spite of herself of the fete days, the spreads and
+the revelry of her life. Of one occasion especially, an awfully cold
+day, a mid-Lent Thursday. She had enjoyed herself wonderfully well.
+She was very pretty, fair-haired and fresh looking at that time. Her
+wash-house in the Rue Neuve had chosen her as queen in spite of her
+leg. And then they had had an outing on the boulevards in carts decked
+with greenery, in the midst of stylish people who ogled her. Real
+gentlemen put up their glasses as if she had been a true queen. In the
+evening there was a wonderful spread, and then they had danced till
+daylight. Queen; yes Queen! With a crown and a sash for twenty-four
+hours--twice round the clock! And now oppressed by hunger, she looked
+on the ground, as if she were seeking for the gutter in which she had
+let her fallen majesty tumble.
+
+She raised her eyes again. She was in front of the slaughter-houses
+which were being pulled down; through the gaps in the facade one could
+see the dark, stinking courtyards, still damp with blood. And when she
+had gone down the Boulevard again, she also saw the Lariboisiere
+Hospital, with its long grey wall, above which she could distinguish
+the mournful, fan-like wings, pierced with windows at even distances.
+A door in the wall filled the neighborhood with dread; it was the door
+of the dead in solid oak, and without a crack, as stern and as silent
+as a tombstone. Then to escape her thoughts, she hurried further down
+till she reached the railway bridge. The high parapets of riveted
+sheet-iron hid the line from view; she could only distinguish a corner
+of the station standing out against the luminous horizon of Paris,
+with a vast roof black with coal-dust. Through the clear space she
+could hear the engines whistling and the cars being shunted, in token
+of colossal hidden activity. Then a train passed by, leaving Paris,
+with puffing breath and a growing rumble. And all she perceived of
+this train was a white plume, a sudden gust of steam which rose above
+the parapet and then evaporated. But the bridge had shaken, and she
+herself seemed impressed by this departure at full speed. She turned
+round as if to follow the invisible engine, the noise of which was
+dying away.
+
+She caught a glimpse of open country through a gap between tall
+buildings. Oh, if only she could have taken a train and gone away, far
+away from this poverty and suffering. She might have started an
+entirely new life! Then she turned to look at the posters on the
+bridge sidings. One was on pretty blue paper and offered a fifty-franc
+reward for a lost dog. Someone must have really loved that dog!
+
+Gervaise slowly resumed her walk. In the smoky fog which was falling,
+the gas lamps were being lighted up; and the long avenues, which had
+grown bleak and indistinct, suddenly showed themselves plainly again,
+sparkling to their full length and piercing through the night, even to
+the vague darkness of the horizon. A great gust swept by; the widened
+spaces were lighted up with girdles of little flames, shining under
+the far-stretching moonless sky. It was the hour when, from one end of
+the Boulevard to the other, the dram-shops and the dancing-halls
+flamed gayly as the first glasses were merrily drunk and the first
+dance began. It was the great fortnightly pay-day, and the pavement
+was crowded with jostling revelers on the spree. There was a breath of
+merrymaking in the air--deuced fine revelry, but not objectionable so
+far. Fellows were filling themselves in the eating-houses; through the
+lighted windows you could see people feeding, with their mouths full
+and laughing without taking the trouble to swallow first. Drunkards
+were already installed in the wineshops, squabbling and
+gesticulating. And there was a cursed noise on all sides, voices
+shouting amid the constant clatter of feet on the pavement.
+
+"Say, are you coming to sip?" "Make haste, old man; I'll pay for a
+glass of bottled wine." "Here's Pauline! Shan't we just laugh!" The
+doors swung to and fro, letting a smell of wine and a sound of cornet
+playing escape into the open air. There was a gathering in front of
+Pere Colombe's l'Assommoir, which was lighted up like a cathedral for
+high mass. /Mon Dieu!/ you would have said a real ceremony was going
+on, for several capital fellows, with rounded paunches and swollen
+cheeks, looking for all the world like professional choristers, were
+singing inside. They were celebrating Saint-Pay, of course--a very
+amiable saint, who no doubt keeps the cash box in Paradise. Only, on
+seeing how gaily the evening began, the retired petty tradesmen who
+had taken their wives out for a stroll wagged their heads, and
+repeated that there would be any number of drunken men in Paris that
+night. And the night stretched very dark, dead-like and icy, above
+this revelry, perforated only with lines of gas lamps extending to the
+four corners of heaven.
+
+Gervaise stood in front of l'Assommoir, thinking that if she had had
+a couple of sous she could have gone inside and drunk a dram. No doubt
+a dram would have quieted her hunger. Ah! what a number of drams she
+had drunk in her time! Liquor seemed good stuff to her after all. And
+from outside she watched the drunk-making machine, realizing that her
+misfortune was due to it, and yet dreaming of finishing herself off
+with brandy on the day she had some coin. But a shudder passed through
+her hair as she saw it was now almost dark. Well, the night time was
+approaching. She must have some pluck and sell herself coaxingly if
+she didn't wish to kick the bucket in the midst of the general
+revelry. Looking at other people gorging themselves didn't precisely
+fill her own stomach. She slackened her pace again and looked around
+her. There was a darker shade under the trees. Few people passed
+along, only folks in a hurry, who swiftly crossed the Boulevards. And
+on the broad, dark, deserted footway, where the sound of the revelry
+died away, women were standing and waiting. They remained for long
+intervals motionless, patient and as stiff-looking as the scrubby
+little plane trees; then they slowly began to move, dragging their
+slippers over the frozen soil, taking ten steps or so and then waiting
+again, rooted as it were to the ground. There was one of them with a
+huge body and insect-like arms and legs, wearing a black silk rag,
+with a yellow scarf over her head; there was another one, tall and
+bony, who was bareheaded and wore a servant's apron; and others, too--
+old ones plastered up and young ones so dirty that a ragpicker would
+not have picked them up. However, Gervaise tried to learn what to do
+by imitating them; girlish-like emotion tightened her throat; she was
+hardly aware whether she felt ashamed or not; she seemed to be living
+in a horrible dream. For a quarter of an hour she remained standing
+erect. Men hurried by without even turning their heads. Then she moved
+about in her turn, and venturing to accost a man who was whistling
+with his hands in his pockets, she murmured, in a strangled voice:
+
+"Sir, listen a moment--"
+
+The man gave her a side glance and then went off, whistling all the
+louder.
+
+Gervaise grew bolder, and, with her stomach empty, she became absorbed
+in this chase, fiercely rushing after her dinner, which was still
+running away. She walked about for a long while, without thinking of
+the flight of time or of the direction she took. Around her the dark,
+mute women went to and fro under the trees like wild beasts in a cage.
+They stepped out of the shade like apparitions, and passed under the
+light of a gas lamp with their pale masks fully apparent; then they
+grew vague again as they went off into the darkness, with a white
+strip of petticoat swinging to and fro. Men let themselves be stopped
+at times, talked jokingly, and then started off again laughing. Others
+would quietly follow a woman to her room, discreetly, ten paces
+behind. There was a deal of muttering, quarreling in an undertone and
+furious bargaining, which suddenly subsided into profound silence. And
+as far as Gervaise went she saw these women standing like sentinels in
+the night. They seemed to be placed along the whole length of the
+Boulevard. As soon as she met one she saw another twenty paces further
+on, and the file stretched out unceasingly. Entire Paris was guarded.
+She grew enraged on finding herself disdained, and changing her place,
+she now perambulated between the Chaussee de Clignancourt and the
+Grand Rue of La Chapelle. All were beggars.
+
+"Sir, just listen."
+
+But the men passed by. She started from the slaughter-houses, which
+stank of blood. She glanced on her way at the old Hotel Boncoeur, now
+closed. She passed in front of the Lariboisiere Hospital, and
+mechanically counted the number of windows that were illuminated with
+a pale quiet glimmer, like that of night-lights at the bedside of some
+agonizing sufferers. She crossed the railway bridge as the trains
+rushed by with a noisy rumble, rending the air in twain with their
+shrill whistling! Ah! how sad everything seemed at night-time! Then
+she turned on her heels again and filled her eyes with the sight of
+the same houses, doing this ten and twenty times without pausing,
+without resting for a minute on a bench. No; no one wanted her. Her
+shame seemed to be increased by this contempt. She went down towards
+the hospital again, and then returned towards the slaughter-houses. It
+was her last promenade--from the blood-stained courtyards, where
+animals were slaughtered, down to the pale hospital wards, where death
+stiffened the patients stretched between the sheets. It was between
+these two establishments that she had passed her life.
+
+"Sir, just listen."
+
+But suddenly she perceived her shadow on the ground. When she
+approached a gas-lamp it gradually became less vague, till it stood
+out at last in full force--an enormous shadow it was, positively
+grotesque, so portly had she become. Her stomach, breast and hips, all
+equally flabby jostled together as it were. She walked with such a
+limp that the shadow bobbed almost topsy-turvy at every step she took;
+it looked like a real Punch! Then as she left the street lamp behind
+her, the Punch grew taller, becoming in fact gigantic, filling the
+whole Boulevard, bobbing to and fro in such style that it seemed fated
+to smash its nose against the trees or the houses. /Mon Dieu!/ how
+frightful she was! She had never realised her disfigurement so
+thoroughly. And she could not help looking at her shadow; indeed, she
+waited for the gas-lamps, still watching the Punch as it bobbed about.
+Ah! she had a pretty companion beside her! What a figure! It ought to
+attract the men at once! And at the thought of her unsightliness, she
+lowered her voice, and only just dared to stammer behind the passers-
+by:
+
+"Sir, just listen."
+
+It was now getting quite late. Matters were growing bad in the
+neighborhood. The eating-houses had closed and voices, gruff with
+drink, could be heard disputing in the wineshops. Revelry was turning
+to quarreling and fisticuffs. A big ragged chap roared out, "I'll
+knock yer to bits; just count yer bones." A large woman had quarreled
+with a fellow outside a dancing place, and was calling him "dirty
+blackguard" and "lousy bum," whilst he on his side just muttered under
+his breath. Drink seemed to have imparted a fierce desire to indulge
+in blows, and the passers-by, who were now less numerous, had pale
+contracted faces. There was a battle at last; one drunken fellow came
+down on his back with all four limbs raised in the air, whilst his
+comrade, thinking he had done for him, ran off with his heavy shoes
+clattering over the pavement. Groups of men sang dirty songs and then
+there would be long silences broken only by hiccoughs or the thud of a
+drunk falling down.
+
+Gervaise still hobbled about, going up and down, with the idea of
+walking forever. At times, she felt drowsy and almost went to sleep,
+rocked, as it were, by her lame leg; then she looked round her with a
+start, and noticed she had walked a hundred yards unconsciously. Her
+feet were swelling in her ragged shoes. The last clear thought that
+occupied her mind was that her hussy of a daughter was perhaps eating
+oysters at that very moment. Then everything became cloudy; and,
+albeit, she remained with open eyes, it required too great an effort
+for her to think. The only sensation that remained to her, in her
+utter annihilation, was that it was frightfully cold, so sharply,
+mortally cold, she had never known the like before. Why, even dead
+people could not feel so cold in their graves. With an effort she
+raised her head, and something seemed to lash her face. It was the
+snow, which had at last decided to fall from the smoky sky--fine thick
+snow, which the breeze swept round and round. For three days it had
+been expected and what a splendid moment it chose to appear.
+
+Woken up by the first gusts, Gervaise began to walk faster. Eager to
+get home, men were running along, with their shoulders already white.
+And as she suddenly saw one who, on the contrary, was coming slowly
+towards her under the trees, she approached him and again said: "Sir,
+just listen--"
+
+The man has stopped. But he did not seem to have heard her. He held
+out his hand, and muttered in a low voice: "Charity, if you please!"
+
+They looked at one another. Ah! /Mon Dieu!/ They were reduced to this
+--Pere Bru begging, Madame Coupeau walking the streets! They remained
+stupefied in front of each other. They could join hands as equals now.
+The old workman had prowled about the whole evening, not daring to
+stop anyone, and the first person he accosted was as hungry as
+himself. Lord, was it not pitiful! To have toiled for fifty years and
+be obliged to beg! To have been one of the most prosperous laundresses
+in the Rue de la Goutte-d'Or and to end beside the gutter! They still
+looked at one another. Then, without saying a word, they went off in
+different directions under the lashing snow.
+
+It was a perfect tempest. On these heights, in the midst of this open
+space, the fine snow revolved round and round as if the wind came from
+the four corners of heaven. You could not see ten paces off,
+everything was confused in the midst of this flying dust. The
+surroundings had disappeared, the Boulevard seemed to be dead, as if
+the storm had stretched the silence of its white sheet over the
+hiccoughs of the last drunkards. Gervaise still went on, blinded,
+lost. She felt her way by touching the trees. As she advanced the gas-
+lamps shone out amidst the whiteness like torches. Then, suddenly,
+whenever she crossed an open space, these lights failed her; she was
+enveloped in the whirling snow, unable to distinguish anything to
+guide her. Below stretched the ground, vaguely white; grey walls
+surrounded her, and when she paused, hesitating and turning her head,
+she divined that behind this icy veil extended the immense avenue with
+interminable vistas of gas-lamps--the black and deserted Infinite of
+Paris asleep.
+
+She was standing where the outer Boulevard meets the Boulevards
+Magenta and Ornano, thinking of lying down on the ground, when
+suddenly she heard a footfall. She began to run, but the snow blinded
+her, and the footsteps went off without her being able to tell whether
+it was to the right or to the left. At last, however, she perceived a
+man's broad shoulders, a dark form which was disappearing amid the
+snow. Oh! she wouldn't let this man get away. And she ran on all the
+faster, reached him, and caught him by the blouse: "Sir, sir, just
+listen."
+
+The man turned round. It was Goujet.
+
+So now she had accosted Golden-Beard. But what had she done on earth
+to be tortured like this by Providence? It was the crowning blow--to
+stumble against Goujet, and be seen by her blacksmith friend, pale and
+begging, like a common street walker. And it happened just under a
+gas-lamp; she could see her deformed shadow swaying on the snow like a
+real caricature. You would have said she was drunk. /Mon Dieu!/ not to
+have a crust of bread, or a drop of wine in her body, and to be taken
+for a drunken women! It was her own fault, why did she booze? Goujet
+no doubt thought she had been drinking, and that she was up to some
+nasty pranks.
+
+He looked at her while the snow scattered daisies over his beautiful
+yellow beard. Then as she lowered her head and stepped back he
+detained her.
+
+"Come," said he.
+
+And he walked on first. She followed him. They both crossed the silent
+district, gliding noiselessly along the walls. Poor Madame Goujet had
+died of rheumatism in the month of October. Goujet still resided in
+the little house in the Rue Neuve, living gloomily alone. On this
+occasion he was belated because he had sat up nursing a wounded
+comrade. When he had opened the door and lighted a lamp, he turned
+towards Gervaise, who had remained humbly on the threshold. Then, in a
+low voice, as if he were afraid his mother could still hear him, he
+exclaimed, "Come in."
+
+The first room, Madame Goujet's, was piously preserved in the state
+she had left it. On a chair near the window lay the tambour by the
+side of the large arm-chair, which seemed to be waiting for the old
+lace-worker. The bed was made, and she could have stretched herself
+beneath the sheets if she had left the cemetery to come and spend the
+evening with her child. There was something solemn, a perfume of
+honesty and goodness about the room.
+
+"Come in," repeated the blacksmith in a louder tone.
+
+She went in, half frightened, like a disreputable woman gliding into a
+respectable place. He was quite pale, and trembled at the thought of
+ushering a woman like this into his dead mother's home. They crossed
+the room on tip-toe, as if they were ashamed to be heard. Then when he
+had pushed Gervaise into his own room he closed the door. Here he was
+at home. It was the narrow closet she was acquainted with; a
+schoolgirl's room, with the little iron bedstead hung with white
+curtains. On the walls the engravings cut out of illustrated
+newspapers had gathered and spread, and they now reached to the
+ceiling. The room looked so pure that Gervaise did not dare to
+advance, but retreated as far as she could from the lamp. Then without
+a word, in a transport as it were, he tried to seize hold of her and
+press her in his arms. But she felt faint and murmured: "Oh! /Mon
+Dieu!/ Oh, /mon Dieu!/"
+
+The fire in the stove, having been covered with coke-dust, was still
+alight, and the remains of a stew which Goujet had put to warm,
+thinking he should return to dinner, was smoking in front of the
+cinders. Gervaise, who felt her numbness leave her in the warmth of
+this room, would have gone down on all fours to eat out of the
+saucepan. Her hunger was stronger than her will; her stomach seemed
+rent in two; and she stooped down with a sigh. Goujet had realized the
+truth. He placed the stew on the table, cut some bread, and poured her
+out a glass of wine.
+
+"Thank you! Thank you!" said she. "Oh, how kind you are! Thank you!"
+
+She stammered; she could hardly articulate. When she caught hold of
+her fork she began to tremble so acutely that she let it fall again.
+The hunger that possessed her made her wag her head as if senile. She
+carried the food to her mouth with her fingers. As she stuffed the
+first potato into her mouth, she burst out sobbing. Big tears coursed
+down her cheeks and fell onto her bread. She still ate, gluttonously
+devouring this bread thus moistened by her tears, and breathing very
+hard all the while. Goujet compelled her to drink to prevent her from
+stifling, and her glass chinked, as it were, against her teeth.
+
+"Will you have some more bread?" he asked in an undertone.
+
+She cried, she said "no," she said "yes," she didn't know. Ah! how
+nice and yet how painful it is to eat when one is starving.
+
+And standing in front of her, Goujet looked at her all the while;
+under the bright light cast by the lamp-shade he could see her well.
+How aged and altered she seemed! The heat was melting the snow on her
+hair and clothes, and she was dripping. Her poor wagging head was
+quite grey; there were any number of grey locks which the wind had
+disarranged. Her neck sank into her shoulders and she had become so
+fat and ugly you might have cried on noticing the change. He
+recollected their love, when she was quite rosy, working with her
+irons, and showing the child-like crease which set such a charming
+necklace round her throat. In those times he had watched her for
+hours, glad just to look at her. Later on she had come to the forge,
+and there they had enjoyed themselves whilst he beat the iron, and she
+stood by watching his hammer dance. How often at night, with his head
+buried in his pillow, had he dreamed of holding her in his arms.
+
+Gervaise rose; she had finished. She remained for a moment with her
+head lowered, and ill at ease. Then, thinking she detected a gleam in
+his eyes, she raised her hand to her jacket and began to unfasten the
+first button. But Goujet had fallen on his knees, and taking hold of
+her hands, he exclaimed softly:
+
+"I love you, Madame Gervaise; oh! I love you still, and in spite of
+everything, I swear it to you!"
+
+"Don't say that, Monsieur Goujet!" she cried, maddened to see him like
+this at her feet. "No, don't say that; you grieve me too much."
+
+And as he repeated that he could never love twice in his life, she
+became yet more despairing.
+
+"No, no, I am too ashamed. For the love of God get up. It is my place
+to be on the ground."
+
+He rose, he trembled all over and stammered: "Will you allow me to
+kiss you?"
+
+Overcome with surprise and emotion she could not speak, but she
+assented with a nod of the head. After all she was his; he could do
+what he chose with her. But he merely kissed her.
+
+"That suffices between us, Madame Gervaise," he muttered. "It sums up
+all our friendship, does it not?"
+
+He had kissed her on the forehead, on a lock of her grey hair. He had
+not kissed anyone since his mother's death. His sweetheart Gervaise
+alone remained to him in life. And then, when he had kissed her with
+so much respect, he fell back across his bed with sobs rising in his
+throat. And Gervaise could not remain there any longer. It was too sad
+and too abominable to meet again under such circumstances when one
+loved. "I love you, Monsieur Goujet," she exclaimed. "I love you
+dearly, also. Oh! it isn't possible you still love me. Good-bye, good-
+bye; it would smother us both; it would be more than we could stand."
+
+And she darted through Madame Goujet's room and found herself outside
+on the pavement again. When she recovered her senses she had rung at
+the door in the Rue de la Goutte-d'Or and Boche was pulling the
+string. The house was quite dark, and in the black night the yawning,
+dilapidated porch looked like an open mouth. To think that she had
+been ambitious of having a corner in this barracks! Had her ears been
+stopped up then, that she had not heard the cursed music of despair
+which sounded behind the walls? Since she had set foot in the place
+she had begun to go down hill. Yes, it must bring bad luck to shut
+oneself up in these big workmen's houses; the cholera of misery was
+contagious there. That night everyone seemed to have kicked the
+bucket. She only heard the Boches snoring on the right-hand side,
+while Lantier and Virginie on the left were purring like a couple of
+cats who were not asleep, but have their eyes closed and feel warm. In
+the courtyard she fancied she was in a perfect cemetery; the snow
+paved the ground with white; the high frontages, livid grey in tint,
+rose up unlighted like ruined walls, and not a sigh could be heard. It
+seemed as if a whole village, stiffened with cold and hunger, were
+buried here. She had to step over a black gutter--water from the dye-
+works--which smoked and streaked the whiteness of the snow with its
+muddy course. It was the color of her thoughts. The beautiful light
+blue and light pink waters had long since flowed away.
+
+Then, whilst ascending the six flights of stairs in the dark, she
+could not prevent herself from laughing; an ugly laugh which hurt her.
+She recalled her ideal of former days: to work quietly, always have
+bread to eat and a tidy house to sleep in, to bring up her children,
+not to be beaten and to die in her bed. No, really, it was comical how
+all that was becoming realized! She no longer worked, she no longer
+ate, she slept on filth, her husband frequented all sorts of
+wineshops, and her husband drubbed her at all hours of the day; all
+that was left for her to do was to die on the pavement, and it would
+not take long if on getting into her room, she could only pluck up
+courage to fling herself out of the window. Was it not enough to make
+one think that she had hoped to earn thirty thousand francs a year,
+and no end of respect? Ah! really, in this life it is no use being
+modest; one only gets sat upon. Not even pap and a nest, that is the
+common lot.
+
+What increased her ugly laugh was the recollection of her grand hope
+of retiring into the country after twenty years passed in ironing.
+Well! she was on her way to the country. She was going to have her
+green corner in the Pere-Lachaise cemetery.
+
+When she entered the passage she was like a mad-woman. Her poor head
+was whirling round. At heart her great grief was at having bid the
+blacksmith an eternal farewell. All was ended between them; they would
+never see each other more. Then, besides that, all her other thoughts
+of misfortune pressed upon her, and almost caused her head to split.
+As she passed she poked her nose in at the Bijards' and beheld Lalie
+dead, with a look of contentment on her face at having at last been
+laid out and slumbering forever. Ah, well! children were luckier than
+grown-up people. And, as a glimmer of light passed under old Bazouge's
+door, she walked boldly in, seized with a mania for going off on the
+same journey as the little one.
+
+That old joker, Bazouge, had come home that night in an extraordinary
+state of gaiety. He had had such a booze that he was snoring on the
+ground in spite of the temperature, and that no doubt did not prevent
+him from dreaming something pleasant, for he seemed to be laughing
+from his stomach as he slept. The candle, which he had not put out,
+lighted up his old garments, his black cloak, which he had drawn over
+his knees as though it had been a blanket.
+
+On beholding him Gervaise uttered such a deep wailing that he awoke.
+
+"/Mon Dieu!/ shut the door! It's so cold! Ah! it's you! What's the
+matter? What do you want?"
+
+Then, Gervaise, stretching out her arms, no longer knowing what she
+stuttered, began passionately to implore him:
+
+"Oh! take me away! I've had enough; I want to go off. You mustn't bear
+me any grudge. I didn't know. One never knows until one's ready. Oh,
+yes; one's glad to go one day! Take me away! Take me away and I shall
+thank you!"
+
+She fell on her knees, all shaken with a desire which caused her to
+turn ghastly pale. Never before had she thus dragged herself at a
+man's feet. Old Bazouge's ugly mug, with his mouth all on one side and
+his hide begrimed with the dust of funerals, seemed to her as
+beautiful and resplendent as a sun. The old fellow, who was scarcely
+awake thought, however, that it was some sort of bad joke.
+
+"Look here," murmured he, "no jokes!"
+
+"Take me away," repeated Gervaise more ardently still. "You remember,
+I knocked one evening against the partition; then I said that it
+wasn't true, because I was still a fool. But see! Give me your hands.
+I'm no longer frightened. Take me away to by-by; you'll see how still
+I'll be. Oh! sleep, that's all I care for. Oh! I'll love you so much!"
+
+Bazouge, ever gallant, thought that he ought not to be hasty with a
+lady who appeared to have taken such a fancy to him. She was falling
+to pieces, but all the same, what remained was very fine, especially
+when she was excited.
+
+"What you say is very true," said he in a convinced manner. "I packed
+up three more to-day who would only have been too glad to have given
+me something for myself, could they but have got their hands to their
+pockets. But, little woman, it's not so easily settled as all that--"
+
+"Take me away, take me away," continued Gervaise, "I want to die."
+
+"Ah! but there's a little operation to be gone through beforehand--you
+know, glug!"
+
+And he made a noise in his throat, as though swallowing his tongue.
+Then, thinking it a good joke, he chuckled.
+
+Gervaise slowly rose to her feet. So he too could do nothing for her.
+She went to her room and threw herself on her straw, feeling stupid,
+and regretting she had eaten. Ah! no indeed, misery did not kill
+quickly enough.
+
+
+
+                             CHAPTER XIII
+
+That night Coupeau went on a spree. Next day, Gervaise received ten
+francs from her son Etienne, who was a mechanic on some railway. The
+youngster sent her a few francs from time to time, knowing that they
+were not very well off at home. She made some soup, and ate it all
+alone, for that scoundrel Coupeau did not return on the morrow. On
+Monday he was still absent, and on Tuesday also. The whole week went
+by. Ah, it would be good luck if some woman took him in.
+
+On Sunday Gervaise received a printed document. It was to inform her
+that her husband was dying at the Sainte-Anne asylum.
+
+Gervaise did not disturb herself. He knew the way; he could very well
+get home from the asylum by himself. They had cured him there so often
+that they could once more do him the sorry service of putting him on
+his pins again. Had she not heard that very morning that for the week
+before Coupeau had been seen as round as a ball, rolling about
+Belleville from one dram shop to another in the company of My-Boots.
+Exactly so; and it was My-Boots, too, who stood treat. He must have
+hooked his missus's stocking with all the savings gained at very hard
+work. It wasn't clean money they had used, but money that could infect
+them with any manner of vile diseases. Well, anyway, they hadn't
+thought to invite her for a drink. If you wanted to drink by yourself,
+you could croak by yourself.
+
+However, on Monday, as Gervaise had a nice little meal planned for the
+evening, the remains of some beans and a pint of wine, she pretended
+to herself that a walk would give her an appetite. The letter from the
+asylum which she had left lying on the bureau bothered her. The snow
+had melted, the day was mild and grey and on the whole fine, with just
+a slight keenness in the air which was invigorating. She started at
+noon, for her walk was a long one. She had to cross Paris and her bad
+leg always slowed her. With that the streets were crowded; but the
+people amused her; she reached her destination very pleasantly. When
+she had given her name, she was told a most astounding story to the
+effect that Coupeau had been fished out of the Seine close to the
+Pont-Neuf. He had jumped over the parapet, under the impression that a
+bearded man was barring his way. A fine jump, was it not? And as for
+finding out how Coupeau got to be on the Pont-Neuf, that was a matter
+he could not even explain himself.
+
+One of the keepers escorted Gervaise. She was ascending a staircase,
+when she heard howlings which made her shiver to her very bones.
+
+"He's playing a nice music, isn't he?" observed the keeper.
+
+"Who is?" asked she.
+
+"Why, your old man! He's been yelling like that ever since the day
+before yesterday; and he dances, you'll just see."
+
+/Mon Dieu!/ what a sight! She stood as one transfixed. The cell was
+padded from the floor to the ceiling. On the floor there were two
+straw mats, one piled on top of the other; and in a corner were spread
+a mattress and a bolster, nothing more. Inside there Coupeau was
+dancing and yelling, his blouse in tatters and his limbs beating the
+air. He wore the mask of one about to die. What a breakdown! He bumped
+up against the window, then retired backwards, beating time with his
+arms and shaking his hands as though he were trying to wrench them off
+and fling them in somebody's face. One meets with buffoons in low
+dancing places who imitate the delirium tremens, only they imitate it
+badly. One must see this drunkard's dance if one wishes to know what
+it is like when gone through in earnest. The song also has its merits,
+a continuous yell worthy of carnival-time, a mouth wide open uttering
+the same hoarse trombone notes for hours together. Coupeau had the
+howl of a beast with a crushed paw. Strike up, music! Gentlemen,
+choose your partners!
+
+"/Mon Dieu!/ what is the matter with him? What is the matter with
+him?" repeated Gervaise, seized with fear.
+
+A house surgeon, a big fair fellow with a rosy countenance, and
+wearing a white apron, was quietly sitting taking notes. The case was
+a curious one; the doctor did not leave the patient.
+
+"Stay a while if you like," said he to the laundress; "but keep quiet.
+Try and speak to him, he will not recognise you."
+
+Coupeau indeed did not even appear to see his wife. She had only had a
+bad view of him on entering, he was wriggling about so much. When she
+looked him full in the face, she stood aghast. /Mon Dieu!/ was it
+possible he had a countenance like that, his eyes full of blood and
+his lips covered with scabs? She would certainly never have known him.
+To begin with, he was making too many grimaces, without saying why,
+his mouth suddenly out of all shape, his nose curled up, his cheeks
+drawn in, a perfect animal's muzzle. His skin was so hot the air
+steamed around him; and his hide was as though varnished, covered with
+a heavy sweat which trickled off him. In his mad dance, one could see
+all the same that he was not at his ease, his head was heavy and his
+limbs ached.
+
+Gervaise drew near to the house surgeon, who was strumming a tune with
+the tips of his fingers on the back of his chair.
+
+"Tell me, sir, it's serious then this time?"
+
+The house surgeon nodded his head without answering.
+
+"Isn't he jabbering to himself? Eh! don't you hear? What's it about?
+
+"About things he sees," murmured the young man. "Keep quiet, let me
+listen."
+
+Coupeau was speaking in a jerky voice. A glimmer of amusement lit up
+his eyes. He looked on the floor, to the right, to the left, and
+turned about as though he had been strolling in the Bois de Vincennes,
+conversing with himself.
+
+"Ah! that's nice, that's grand! There're cottages, a regular fair. And
+some jolly fine music! What a Balthazar's feast! They're smashing the
+crockery in there. Awfully swell! Now it's being lit up; red balls in
+the air, and it jumps, and it flies! Oh! oh! what a lot of lanterns in
+the trees! It's confoundedly pleasant! There's water flowing
+everywhere, fountains, cascades, water which sings, oh! with the voice
+of a chorister. The cascades are grand!"
+
+And he drew himself up, as though the better to hear the delicious
+song of the water; he sucked in forcibly, fancying he was drinking the
+fresh spray blown from the fountains. But, little by little, his face
+resumed an agonized expression. Then he crouched down and flew quicker
+than ever around the walls of the cell, uttering vague threats.
+
+"More traps, all that! I thought as much. Silence, you set of
+swindlers! Yes, you're making a fool of me. It's for that that you're
+drinking and bawling inside there with your viragoes. I'll demolish
+you, you and your cottage! Damnation! Will you leave me in peace?"
+
+He clinched his fists; then he uttered a hoarse cry, stooping as he
+ran. And he stuttered, his teeth chattering with fright.
+
+"It's so that I may kill myself. No, I won't throw myself in! All that
+water means that I've no heart. No, I won't throw myself in!"
+
+The cascades, which fled at his approach, advanced when he retired.
+And all of a sudden, he looked stupidly around him, mumbling, in a
+voice which was scarcely audible:
+
+"It isn't possible, they set conjurers against me!"
+
+"I'm off, sir. I've got to go. Good-night!" said Gervaise to the house
+surgeon. "It upsets me too much; I'll come again."
+
+She was quite white. Coupeau was continuing his breakdown from the
+window to the mattress and from the mattress to the window,
+perspiring, toiling, always beating the same rhythm. Then she hurried
+away. But though she scrambled down the stairs, she still heard her
+husband's confounded jig until she reached the bottom. Ah! /Mon Dieu!/
+how pleasant it was out of doors, one could breathe there!
+
+That evening everyone in the tenement was discussing Coupeau's strange
+malady. The Boches invited Gervaise to have a drink with them, even
+though they now considered Clump-clump beneath them, in order to hear
+all the details. Madame Lorilleux and Madame Poisson were there also.
+Boche told of a carpenter he had known who had been a drinker of
+absinthe. The man shed his clothes, went out in the street and danced
+the polka until he died. That rather struck the ladies as comic, even
+though it was very sad.
+
+Gervaise got up in the middle of the room and did an imitation of
+Coupeau. Yes, that's just how it was. Can anyone feature a man doing
+that for hours on end? If they didn't believe they could go see for
+themselves.
+
+On getting up the next morning, Gervaise promised herself she would
+not return to the Sainte-Anne again. What use would it be? She did not
+want to go off her head also. However, every ten minutes, she fell to
+musing and became absent-minded. It would be curious though, if he
+were still throwing his legs about. When twelve o'clock struck, she
+could no longer resist; she started off and did not notice how long
+the walk was, her brain was so full of her desire to go and the dread
+of what awaited her.
+
+Oh! there was no need for her to ask for news. She heard Coupeau's
+song the moment she reached the foot of the staircase. Just the same
+tune, just the same dance. She might have thought herself going up
+again after having only been down for a minute. The attendant of the
+day before, who was carrying some jugs of tisane along the corridor,
+winked his eye as he met her, by way of being amiable.
+
+"Still the same, then?" said she.
+
+"Oh! still the same!" he replied without stopping.
+
+She entered the room, but she remained near the door, because there
+were some people with Coupeau. The fair, rosy house surgeon was
+standing up, having given his chair to a bald old gentleman who was
+decorated and had a pointed face like a weasel. He was no doubt the
+head doctor, for his glance was as sharp and piercing as a gimlet. All
+the dealers in sudden death have a glance like that.
+
+No, really, it was not a pretty sight; and Gervaise, all in a tremble,
+asked herself why she had returned. To think that the evening before
+they accused her at the Boches' of exaggerating the picture! Now she
+saw better how Coupeau set about it, his eyes wide open looking into
+space, and she would never forget it. She overheard a few words
+between the house surgeon and the head doctor. The former was giving
+some details of the night: her husband had talked and thrown himself
+about, that was what it amounted to. Then the bald-headed old
+gentleman, who was not very polite by the way, at length appeared to
+become aware of her presence; and when the house surgeon had informed
+him that she was the patient's wife, he began to question her in the
+harsh manner of a commissary of the police.
+
+"Did this man's father drink?"
+
+"Yes, sir; just a little like everyone. He killed himself by falling
+from a roof one day when he was tipsy."
+
+"Did his mother drink?"
+
+"Well! sir, like everyone else, you know; a drop here, a drop there.
+Oh! the family is very respectable! There was a brother who died very
+young in convulsions."
+
+The doctor looked at her with his piercing eye. He resumed in his
+rough voice:
+
+"And you, you drink too, don't you?"
+
+Gervaise stammered, protested, and placed her hand upon her heart, as
+though to take her solemn oath.
+
+"You drink! Take care; see where drink leads to. One day or other you
+will die thus."
+
+Then she remained close to the wall. The doctor had turned his back to
+her. He squatted down, without troubling himself as to whether his
+overcoat trailed in the dust of the matting; for a long while he
+studied Coupeau's trembling, waiting for its reappearance, following
+it with his glance. That day the legs were going in their turn, the
+trembling had descended from the hands to the feet; a regular puppet
+with his strings being pulled, throwing his limbs about, whilst the
+trunk of his body remained as stiff as a piece of wood. The disease
+progressed little by little. It was like a musical box beneath the
+skin; it started off every three or four seconds and rolled along for
+an instant; then it stopped and then it started off again, just the
+same as the little shiver which shakes stray dogs in winter, when cold
+and standing in some doorway for protection. Already the middle of the
+body and the shoulders quivered like water on the point of boiling. It
+was a funny demolition all the same, going off wriggling like a girl
+being tickled.
+
+Coupeau, meanwhile, was complaining in a hollow voice. He seemed to
+suffer a great deal more than the day before. His broken murmurs
+disclosed all sorts of ailments. Thousands of pins were pricking him.
+He felt something heavy all about his body; some cold, wet animal was
+crawling over his thighs and digging its fangs into his flesh. Then
+there were other animals sticking to his shoulders, tearing his back
+with their claws.
+
+"I'm thirsty, oh! I'm thirsty!" groaned he continually.
+
+The house surgeon handed him a little lemonade from a small shelf;
+Coupeau seized the mug in both hands and greedily took a mouthful,
+spilling half the liquid over himself; but he spat it out at once with
+furious disgust, exclaiming:
+
+"Damnation! It's brandy!"
+
+Then, on a sign from the doctor, the house surgeon tried to make him
+drink some water without leaving go of the bottle. This time he
+swallowed the mouthful, yelling as though he had swallowed fire.
+
+"It's brandy; damnation! It's brandy!"
+
+Since the night before, everything he had had to drink was brandy. It
+redoubled his thirst and he could no longer drink, because everything
+burnt him. They had brought him some broth, but they were evidently
+trying to poison him, for the broth smelt of vitriol. The bread was
+sour and moldy. There was nothing but poison around him. The cell
+stank of sulphur. He even accused persons of rubbing matches under his
+nose to infect him.
+
+All on a sudden he exclaimed:
+
+"Oh! the rats, there're the rats now!"
+
+There were black balls that were changing into rats. These filthy
+animals got fatter and fatter, then they jumped onto the mattress and
+disappeared. There was also a monkey which came out of the wall, and
+went back into the wall, and which approached so near him each time,
+that he drew back through fear of having his nose bitten off. Suddenly
+there was another change, the walls were probably cutting capers, for
+he yelled out, choking with terror and rage:
+
+"That's it, gee up! Shake me, I don't care! Gee up! Tumble down! Yes,
+ring the bells, you black crows! Play the organ to prevent my calling
+the police. They've put a bomb behind the wall, the lousy scoundrels!
+I can hear it, it snorts, they're going to blow us up! Fire!
+Damnation, fire! There's a cry of fire! There it blazes. Oh, it's
+getting lighter, lighter! All the sky's burning, red fires, green
+fires, yellow fires. Hi! Help! Fire!"
+
+His cries became lost in a rattle. He now only mumbled disconnected
+words, foaming at the mouth, his chin wet with saliva. The doctor
+rubbed his nose with his finger, a movement no doubt habitual with him
+in the presence of serious cases. He turned to the house surgeon, and
+asked him in a low voice:
+
+"And the temperature, still the hundred degrees, is it not?"
+
+"Yes, sir."
+
+The doctor pursed his lips. He continued there another two minutes,
+his eyes fixed on Coupeau. Then he shrugged his shoulders, adding:
+
+"The same treatment, broth, milk, lemonade, and the potion of extract
+of quinine. Do not leave him, and call me if necessary."
+
+He went out and Gervaise followed him, to ask him if there was any
+hope. But he walked so stiffly along the corridor, that she did not
+dare approach him. She stood rooted there a minute, hesitating whether
+to return and look at her husband. The time she had already passed had
+been far from pleasant. As she again heard him calling out that the
+lemonade smelt of brandy, she hurried away, having had enough of the
+performance. In the streets, the galloping of the horses and the noise
+of the vehicles made her fancy that all the inmates of Saint-Anne were
+at her heels. And that the doctor had threatened her! Really, she
+already thought she had the complaint.
+
+In the Rue de la Goutte-d'Or the Boches and the others were naturally
+awaiting her. The moment she appeared they called her into the
+concierge's room. Well! was old Coupeau still in the land of the
+living? /Mon Dieu!/ yes, he still lived. Boche seemed amazed and
+confounded; he had bet a bottle that old Coupeau would not last till
+the evening. What! He still lived! And they all exhibited their
+astonishment, and slapped their thighs. There was a fellow who lasted!
+Madame Lorilleux reckoned up the hours; thirty-six hours and twenty-
+four hours, sixty hours. /Sacre Dieu!/ already sixty hours that he had
+been doing the jig and screaming! Such a feat of strength had never
+been seen before. But Boche, who was upset that he had lost the bet,
+questioned Gervaise with an air of doubt, asking her if she was quite
+sure he had not filed off behind her back. Oh! no, he had no desire
+to, he jumped about too much. Then Boche, still doubting, begged her
+to show them again a little how he was acting, just so they could see.
+Yes, yes, a little more! The request was general! The company told her
+she would be very kind if she would oblige, for just then two
+neighbors happened to be there who had not been present the day
+before, and who had come down purposely to see the performance. The
+concierge called to everybody to make room, they cleared the centre of
+the apartment, pushing one another with their elbows, and quivering
+with curiosity. Gervaise, however, hung down her head. Really, she was
+afraid it might upset her. Desirous though of showing that she did not
+refuse for the sake of being pressed, she tried two or three little
+leaps; but she became quite queer, and stopped; on her word of honor,
+she was not equal to it! There was a murmur of disappointment; it was
+a pity, she imitated it perfectly. However, she could not do it, it
+was no use insisting! And when Virginie left to return to her shop,
+they forgot all about old Coupeau and began to gossip about the
+Poissons and their home, a real mess now. The day before, the bailiffs
+had been; the policeman was about to lose his place; as for Lantier,
+he was now making up to the daughter of the restaurant keeper next
+door, a fine woman, who talked of setting up as a tripe-seller. Ah! it
+was amusing, everyone already beheld a tripe-seller occupying the
+shop; after the sweets should come something substantial. And that
+blind Poisson! How could a man whose profession required him to be so
+smart fail to see what was going on in his own home? They stopped
+talking suddenly when they noticed that Gervaise was off in a corner
+by herself imitating Coupeau. Her hands and feet were jerking. Yes,
+they couldn't ask for a better performance! Then Gervaise started as
+if waking from a dream and hurried away calling out good-night to
+everyone.
+
+On the morrow, the Boches saw her start off at twelve, the same as on
+the two previous days. They wished her a pleasant afternoon. That day
+the corridor at Sainte-Anne positively shook with Coupeau's yells and
+kicks. She had not left the stairs when she heard him yelling:
+
+"What a lot of bugs!--Come this way again that I may squash you!--Ah!
+they want to kill me! ah! the bugs!--I'm a bigger swell than the lot
+of you! Clear out, damnation! Clear out."
+
+For a moment she stood panting before the door. Was he then fighting
+against an army? When she entered, the performance had increased and
+was embellished even more than on previous occasions. Coupeau was a
+raving madman, the same as one sees at the Charenton mad-house! He was
+throwing himself about in the center of the cell, slamming his fists
+everywhere, on himself, on the walls, on the floor, and stumbling
+about punching empty space. He wanted to open the window, and he hid
+himself, defended himself, called, answered, produced all this uproar
+without the least assistance, in the exasperated way of a man beset by
+a mob of people. Then Gervaise understood that he fancied he was on a
+roof, laying down sheets of zinc. He imitated the bellows with his
+mouth, he moved the iron about in the fire and knelt down so as to
+pass his thumb along the edges of the mat, thinking that he was
+soldering it. Yes, his handicraft returned to him at the moment of
+croaking; and if he yelled so loud, if he fought on his roof, it was
+because ugly scoundrels were preventing him doing his work properly.
+On all the neighboring roofs were villains mocking and tormenting him.
+Besides that, the jokers were letting troops of rats loose about his
+legs. Ah! the filthy beasts, he saw them always! Though he kept
+crushing them, bringing his foot down with all his strength, fresh
+hordes of them continued passing, until they quite covered the roof.
+And there were spiders there too! He roughly pressed his trousers
+against his thigh to squash some big spiders which had crept up his
+leg. /Mon Dieu!/ he would never finish his day's work, they wanted to
+destroy him, his employer would send him to prison. Then, whilst
+making haste, he suddenly imagined he had a steam-engine in his
+stomach; with his mouth wide open, he puffed out the smoke, a dense
+smoke which filled the cell and found an outlet by the window; and,
+bending forward, still puffing, he looked outside of the cloud of
+smoke as it unrolled and ascended to the sky, where it hid the sun.
+
+"Look!" cried he, "there's the band of the Chaussee Clignancourt,
+disguised as bears with drums, putting on a show."
+
+He remained crouching before the window, as though he had been
+watching a procession in a street, from some rooftop.
+
+"There's the cavalcade, lions and panthers making grimaces--there's
+brats dressed up as dogs and cats--there's tall Clemence, with her wig
+full of feathers. Ah! /Mon Dieu!/ she's turning head over heels; she's
+showed everything--you'd better run, Duckie. Hey, the cops, leave her
+alone!--just you leave her alone--don't shoot! Don't shoot--"
+
+His voice rose, hoarse and terrified and he stooped down quickly,
+saying that the police and the military were below, men who were
+aiming at him with rifles. In the wall he saw the barrel of a pistol
+emerging, pointed at his breast. They had dragged the girl away.
+
+"Don't shoot! /Mon Dieu!/ Don't shoot!"
+
+Then, the buildings were tumbling down, he imitated the cracking of a
+whole neighborhood collapsing; and all disappeared, all flew off. But
+he had no time to take breath, other pictures passed with
+extraordinary rapidity. A furious desire to speak filled his mouth
+full of words which he uttered without any connection, and with a
+gurgling sound in his throat. He continued to raise his voice, louder
+and louder.
+
+"Hallow, it's you? Good-day! No jokes! Don't make me nuzzle your
+hair."
+
+And he passed his hand before his face, he blew to send the hairs
+away. The house surgeon questioned him.
+
+"Who is it you see?"
+
+"My wife, of course!"
+
+He was looking at the wall, with his back to Gervaise. The latter had
+a rare fright, and she examined the wall, to see if she also could
+catch sight of herself there. He continued talking.
+
+"Now, you know, none of your wheedling--I won't be tied down! You are
+pretty, you have got a fine dress. Where did you get the money for it,
+you cow? You've been at a party, camel! Wait a bit and I'll do for
+you! Ah! you're hiding your boy friend behind your skirts. Who is it?
+Stoop down that I may see. Damnation, it's him again!"
+
+With a terrible leap, he went head first against the wall; but the
+padding softened the blow. One only heard his body rebounding onto the
+matting, where the shock had sent him.
+
+"Who is it you see?" repeated the house surgeon.
+
+"The hatter! The hatter!" yelled Coupeau.
+
+And the house surgeon questioning Gervaise, the latter stuttered
+without being able to answer, for this scene stirred up within her all
+the worries of her life. The zinc-worker thrust out his fists.
+
+"We'll settle this between us, my lad. It's full time I did for you!
+Ah, you coolly come, with that virago on your arm, to make a fool of
+me before everyone. Well! I'm going to throttle you--yes, yes, I! And
+without putting any gloves on either! I'll stop your swaggering. Take
+that! And that! And that!"
+
+He hit about in the air viciously. Then a wild rage took possession of
+him. Having bumped against the wall in walking backwards, he thought
+he was being attacked from behind. He turned round, and fiercely
+hammered away at the padding. He sprang about, jumped from one corner
+to another, knocked his stomach, his back, his shoulder, rolled over,
+and picked himself up again. His bones seemed softened, his flesh had
+a sound like damp oakum. He accompanied this pretty game with
+atrocious threats, and wild and guttural cries. However the battle
+must have been going badly for him, for his breathing became quicker,
+his eyes were starting out of his head, and he seemed little by little
+to be seized with the cowardice of a child.
+
+"Murder! Murder! Be off with you both. Oh! you brutes, they're
+laughing. There she is on her back, the virago! She must give in, it's
+settled. Ah! the brigand, he's murdering her! He's cutting off her leg
+with his knife. The other leg's on the ground, the stomach's in two,
+it's full of blood. Oh! /Mon Dieu!/ Oh! /Mon Dieu!/"
+
+And, covered with perspiration, his hair standing on end, looking a
+frightful object, he retired backwards, violently waving his arms, as
+though to send the abominable sight from him. He uttered two heart-
+rending wails, and fell flat on his back on the mattress, against
+which his heels had caught.
+
+"He's dead, sir, he's dead!" said Gervaise, clasping her hands.
+
+The house surgeon had drawn near, and was pulling Coupeau into the
+middle of the mattress. No, he was not dead. They had taken his shoes
+off. His bare feet hung off the end of the mattress and they were
+dancing all by themselves, one beside the other, in time, a little
+hurried and regular dance.
+
+Just then the head doctor entered. He had brought two of his
+colleagues--one thin, the other fat, and both decorated like himself.
+All three stooped down without saying a word, and examined the man all
+over; then they rapidly conversed together in a low voice. They had
+uncovered Coupeau from his thighs to his shoulders, and by standing on
+tiptoe Gervaise could see the naked trunk spread out. Well! it was
+complete. The trembling had descended from the arms and ascended from
+the legs, and now the trunk itself was getting lively!
+
+"He's sleeping," murmured the head doctor.
+
+And he called the two others' attention to the man's countenance.
+Coupeau, his eyes closed, had little nervous twinges which drew up all
+his face. He was more hideous still, thus flattened out, with his jaw
+projecting, and his visage deformed like a corpse's that had suffered
+from nightmare; but the doctors, having caught sight of his feet, went
+and poked their noses over them, with an air of profound interest. The
+feet were still dancing. Though Coupeau slept the feet danced. Oh!
+their owner might snore, that did not concern them, they continued
+their little occupation without either hurrying or slackening. Regular
+mechanical feet, feet which took their pleasure wherever they found
+it.
+
+Gervaise having seen the doctors place their hands on her old man,
+wished to feel him also. She approached gently and laid a hand on his
+shoulder, and she kept it there a minute. /Mon Dieu!/ whatever was
+taking place inside? It danced down into the very depths of the flesh,
+the bones themselves must have been jumping. Quiverings, undulations,
+coming from afar, flowed like a river beneath the skin. When she
+pressed a little she felt she distinguished the suffering cries of the
+marrow. What a fearful thing, something was boring away like a mole!
+It must be the rotgut from l'Assommoir that was hacking away inside
+him. Well! his entire body had been soaked in it.
+
+The doctors had gone away. At the end of an hour Gervaise, who had
+remained with the house surgeon, repeated in a low voice:
+
+"He's dead, sir; he's dead!"
+
+But the house surgeon, who was watching the feet, shook his head. The
+bare feet, projecting beyond the mattress, still danced on. They were
+not particularly clean and the nails were long. Several more hours
+passed. All on a sudden they stiffened and became motionless. Then the
+house surgeon turned towards Gervaise, saying:
+
+"It's over now."
+
+Death alone had been able to stop those feet.
+
+When Gervaise got back to the Rue de la Goutte-d'Or she found at the
+Boches' a number of women who were cackling in excited tones. She
+thought they were awaiting her to have the latest news, the same as
+the other days.
+
+"He's gone," said she, quietly, as she pushed open the door, looking
+tired out and dull.
+
+But no one listened to her. The whole building was topsy-turvy. Oh! a
+most extraordinary story. Poisson had caught his wife with Lantier.
+Exact details were not known, because everyone had a different
+version. However, he had appeared just when they were not expecting
+him. Some further information was given, which the ladies repeated to
+one another as they pursed their lips. A sight like that had naturally
+brought Poisson out of his shell. He was a regular tiger. This man,
+who talked but little and who always seemed to walk with a stick up
+his back, had begun to roar and jump about. Then nothing more had been
+heard. Lantier had evidently explained things to the husband. Anyhow,
+it could not last much longer, and Boche announced that the girl of
+the restaurant was for certain going to take the shop for selling
+tripe. That rogue of a hatter adored tripe.
+
+On seeing Madame Lorilleux and Madame Lerat arrive, Gervaise repeated,
+faintly:
+
+"He's gone. /Mon Dieu!/ Four days' dancing and yelling--"
+
+Then the two sisters could not do otherwise than pull out their
+handkerchiefs. Their brother had had many faults, but after all he was
+their brother. Boche shrugged his shoulders and said, loud enough to
+be heard by everyone:
+
+"Bah! It's a drunkard the less."
+
+From that day, as Gervaise often got a bit befuddled, one of the
+amusements of the house was to see her imitate Coupeau. It was no
+longer necessary to press her; she gave the performance gratis, her
+hands and feet trembling as she uttered little involuntary shrieks.
+She must have caught this habit at Sainte-Anne from watching her
+husband too long.
+
+Gervaise lasted in this state several months. She fell lower and lower
+still, submitting to the grossest outrages and dying of starvation a
+little every day. As soon as she had four sous she drank and pounded
+on the walls. She was employed on all the dirty errands of the
+neighborhood. Once they even bet her she wouldn't eat filth, but she
+did it in order to earn ten sous. Monsieur Marescot had decided to
+turn her out of her room on the sixth floor. But, as Pere Bru had just
+been found dead in his cubbyhole under the staircase, the landlord had
+allowed her to turn into it. Now she roosted there in the place of
+Pere Bru. It was inside there, on some straw, that her teeth
+chattered, whilst her stomach was empty and her bones were frozen. The
+earth would not have her apparently. She was becoming idiotic. She did
+not even think of making an end of herself by jumping out of the sixth
+floor window on to the pavement of the courtyard below. Death had to
+take her little by little, bit by bit, dragging her thus to the end
+through the accursed existence she had made for herself. It was never
+even exactly known what she did die of. There was some talk of a cold,
+but the truth was she died of privation and of the filth and hardship
+of her ruined life. Overeating and dissoluteness killed her, according
+to the Lorilleuxs. One morning, as there was a bad smell in the
+passage, it was remembered that she had not been seen for two days,
+and she was discovered already green in her hole.
+
+It happened to be old Bazouge who came with the pauper's coffin under
+his arm to pack her up. He was again precious drunk that day, but a
+jolly fellow all the same, and as lively as a cricket. When he
+recognized the customer he had to deal with he uttered several
+philosophical reflections, whilst performing his little business.
+
+"Everyone has to go. There's no occasion for jostling, there's room
+for everyone. And it's stupid being in a hurry that just slows you up.
+All I want to do is to please everybody. Some will, others won't.
+What's the result? Here's one who wouldn't, then she would. So she was
+made to wait. Anyhow, it's all right now, and faith! She's earned it!
+Merrily, just take it easy."
+
+And when he took hold of Gervaise in his big, dirty hands, he was
+seized with emotion, and he gently raised this woman who had had so
+great a longing for his attentions. Then, as he laid her out with
+paternal care at the bottom of the coffin, he stuttered between two
+hiccoughs:
+
+"You know--now listen--it's me, Bibi-the-Gay, called the ladies'
+consoler. There, you're happy now. Go by-by, my beauty!"
+
+
+                               THE END
+
+
+
+
+
+End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of L'Assommoir, by Emile Zola
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