shion, and gone almost every evening to tender consolation to the
bereaved husband. She had doubtless cherished the hope that she might
win his affection and fill the yet warm place of the deceased. Gavard,
however, abominated lean women; and would, indeed, only stroke such
cats and dogs as were very fat; so that Madame Lecoeur, who was long and
withered, failed in her designs.

With her feelings greatly hurt, furious at the ex-roaster's five-franc
pieces eluding her grasp, she nurtured great spite against him. He
became the enemy to whom she devoted all her time. When she saw him
set up in the markets only a few yards away from the pavilion where she
herself sold butter and eggs and cheese, she accused him of doing so
simply for the sake of annoying her and bringing her bad luck. From that
moment she began to lament, and turned so yellow and melancholy that she
indeed ended by losing her customers and getting into difficulties. She
had for a long time kept with her the daughter of one of her sisters,
a peasant woman who had sent her the child and then taken no further
trouble about it.

This child grew up in the markets. Her surname was Sarriet, and so she
soon became generally known as La Sarriette. At sixteen years of age she
had developed into such a charming sly-looking puss that gentlemen came
to buy cheeses at her aunt's stall simply for the purpose of ogling her.
She did not care for the gentlemen, however; with her dark hair, pale
face, and eyes glistening like live embers, her sympathies were with the
lower ranks of the people. At last she chose as her lover a young man
from Menilmontant who was employed by her aunt as a porter. At twenty
she set up in business as a fruit dealer with the help of some funds
procured no one knew how; and thenceforth Monsieur Jules, as her lover
was called, displayed spotless hands, a clean blouse, and a velvet cap;
and only came down to the market in the afternoon, in his slippers.
They lived together on the third storey of a large house in the Rue
Vauvilliers, on the ground floor of which was a disreputable cafe.

Madame Lecoeur's acerbity of temper was brought to a pitch by what she
called La Sarriette's ingratitude, and she spoke of the girl in the most
violent and abusive language. They broke off all intercourse, the aunt
fairly exasperated, and the niece and Monsieur Jules concocting stories
about the aunt, which the young man would repeat to the other dealers
in the butt