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