Badingue for a joke, just to show how little he cared for
the Emperor. Poisson put up with it in his stiff way without one knowing
whether it really annoyed him or not. Besides the two men, though
separated by their political convictions, had become very good friends.

"You know that the Emperor was once a policeman in London," said Boche
in his turn. "Yes, on my word! He used to take the drunken women to the
station-house."

Gervaise had filled three glasses on the table. She would not drink
herself, she felt too sick at heart, but she stood there longing to
see what the box contained and watching Lantier remove the last cords.
Before raising the lid Lantier took his glass and clinked it with the
others.

"Good health."

"Same to you," replied Boche and Poisson.

The laundress filled the glasses again. The three men wiped their lips
on the backs of their hands. And at last the hatter opened the box. It
was full of a jumble of newspapers, books, old clothes and underlinen,
in bundles. He took out successively a saucepan, a pair of boots, a bust
of Ledru-Rollin with the nose broken, an embroidered shirt and a pair of
working trousers. Gervaise could smell the odor of tobacco and that of a
man whose linen wasn't too clean, one who took care only of the outside,
of what people could see.

The old hat was no longer in the left corner. There was a pincushion
she did not recognize, doubtless a present from some woman. She became
calmer, but felt a vague sadness as she continued to watch the objects
that appeared, wondering if they were from her time or from the time of
others.

"I say, Badingue, do you know this?" resumed Lantier.

He thrust under his nose a little book printed at Brussels. "The Amours
of Napoleon III." Illustrated with engravings. It related, among other
anecdotes, how the Emperor had seduced a girl of thirteen, the daughter
of a cook; and the picture represented Napoleon III., bare-legged, and
also wearing the grand ribbon of the Legion of Honor, pursuing a little
girl who was trying to escape his lust.

"Ah! that's it exactly!" exclaimed Boche, whose slyly ridiculous
instincts felt flattered by the sight. "It always happens like that!"

Poisson was seized with consternation, and he could not find a word to
say in the Emperor's defense. It was in a book, so he could not deny
it. Then, Lantier, continuing to push the picture under his nose in a
jeering way, he extended his arms and exclaimed: