thing 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 yo