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
a