s 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 frighte