lined the allusions, the terrors of
Mademoiselle Lise drawing her skirts around her at the sight of a mouse.
All the table laughed; the women could not keep their countenances, and
continued casting bright glances at their neighbors; it was not indecent
after all, there were no coarse words in it. All during the song Boche
was playing mouse up and down the legs of the lady coal-dealer. Things
might have gotten a bit out of line if Goujet, in response to a glance
from Gervaise, had not brought back the respectful silence with "The
Farewell of Abdul-Kader," which he sang out loudly in his bass voice.
The song rang out from his golden beard as if from a brass trumpet.
All the hearts skipped a beat when he cried, "Ah, my noble comrade!"
referring to the warrior's black mare. They burst into applause even
before the end.

"Now, Pere Bru, it's your turn!" said mother Coupeau. "Sing your song.
The old ones are the best any day!"

And everybody turned towards the old man, pressing him and encouraging
him. He, in a state of torpor, with his immovable mask of tanned skin,
looked at them without appearing to understand. They asked him if he
knew the "Five Vowels." He held down his head; he could not recollect
it; all the songs of the good old days were mixed up in his head. As
they made up their minds to leave him alone, he seemed to remember, and
began to stutter in a cavernous voice:

"Trou la la, trou la la,
Trou la, trou la, trou la la!"

His face assumed an animated expression, this chorus seemed to awake
some far-off gaieties within him, enjoyed by himself alone, as he
listened with a childish delight to his voice which became more and more
hollow.

"Say there, my dear," Virginie came and whispered in Gervaise's ear,
"I've just been there again, you know. It worried me. Well! Lantier has
disappeared from Francois's."

"You didn't meet him outside?" asked the laundress.

"No, I walked quickly, not as if I was looking for him."

But Virginie raised her eyes, interrupted herself and heaved a smothered
sigh.

"Ah! _Mon Dieu!_ He's there, on the pavement opposite; he's looking this
way."

Gervaise, quite beside herself, ventured to glance in the direction
indicated. Some persons had collected in the street to hear the party
sing. And Lantier was indeed there in the front row, listening and
coolly looking on. It was rare cheek, everything considered. Gervaise
felt a chill ascend from her legs to her heart,