e ladies laid their shawls
and their caps on the bed and pinned up their skirts so as not to soil
them. Boche sent his wife back to the concierge's lodge until time to
eat and had cornered Clemence in a corner trying to find out if she
was ticklish. She was gasping for breath, as the mere thought of being
tickled sent shivers through her. So as not to bother the cooks, the
other ladies had gone into the shop and were standing against the wall
facing the table. They were talking through the door though, and as they
could not hear very well, they were continually invading the back-room
and crowding around Gervaise, who would forget what she was doing to
answer them.

There were a few stories which brought sly laughter. When Virginie
mentioned that she hadn't eaten for two days in order to have more room
for today's feast, tall Clemence said that she had cleaned herself out
that morning with an enema like the English do. Then Boche suggested
a way of digesting the food quickly by squeezing oneself after each
course, another English custom. After all, when you were invited to
dinner, wasn't it polite to eat as much as you could? Veal and pork and
goose are placed out for the cats to eat. The hostess didn't need to
worry a bit, they were going to clean their plates so thoroughly that
she wouldn't have to wash them.

All of them kept coming to smell the air above the saucepans and the
roaster. The ladies began to act like young girls, scurrying from room
to room and pushing each other.

Just as they were all jumping about and shouting by way of amusement,
Goujet appeared. He was so timid he scarcely dared enter, but stood
still, holding a tall white rose-tree in his arms, a magnificent plant
with a stem that reached to his face and entangled the flowers in his
beard. Gervaise ran to him, her cheeks burning from the heat of the
stoves. But he did not know how to get rid of his pot; and when she had
taken it from his hands he stammered, not daring to kiss her. It was
she who was obliged to stand on tip-toe and place her cheek against his
lips; he was so agitated that even then he kissed her roughly on the eye
almost blinding her. They both stood trembling.

"Oh! Monsieur Goujet, it's too lovely!" said she, placing the rose-tree
beside the other flowers which it overtopped with the whole of its tuft
of foliage.

"Not at all, not at all!" repeated he, unable to say anything else.

Then, after sighing deeply, he slightly re