t and on his
return pretend that he was completely exhausted because he had been
discussing very serious matters. Actually he was merely taking life
easy. He usually slept until ten. In the afternoons he would take a walk
if the weather was nice. If it was raining, he would sit in the shop
reading his newspaper. This atmosphere suited him. He always felt at his
ease with women and enjoyed listening to them.

Lantier first took his meals at Francois's, at the corner of the Rue
des Poissonniers. But of the seven days in the week he dined with the
Coupeaus on three or four; so much so that he ended by offering to board
with them and to pay them fifteen francs every Saturday. From that time
he scarcely ever left the house, but made himself completely at home
there. Morning to night he was in the shop, even giving orders and
attending to customers.

Lantier didn't like the wine from Francois's, so he persuaded Gervaise
to buy her wine from Vigouroux, the coal-dealer. Then he decided
that Coudeloup's bread was not baked to his satisfaction, so he sent
Augustine to the Viennese bakery on the Faubourg Poissonniers for their
bread. He changed from the grocer Lehongre but kept the butcher, fat
Charles, because of his political opinions. After a month he wanted all
the cooking done with olive oil. Clemence joked that with a Provencal
like him you could never wash out the oil stains. He wanted his omelets
fried on both sides, as hard as pancakes. He supervised mother Coupeau's
cooking, wanting his steaks cooked like shoe leather and with garlic on
everything. He got angry if she put herbs in the salad.

"They're just weeds and some of them might be poisonous," he declared.
His favorite soup was made with over-boiled vermicelli. He would pour
in half a bottle of olive oil. Only he and Gervaise could eat this soup,
the others being too used to Parisian cooking.

Little by little Lantier also came to mixing himself up in the affairs
of the family. As the Lorilleuxs always grumbled at having to part with
the five francs for mother Coupeau, he explained that an action could
be brought against them. They must think that they had a set of fools
to deal with! It was ten francs a month which they ought to give! And he
would go up himself for the ten francs so boldly and yet so amiably
that the chainmaker never dared refuse them. Madame Lerat also gave two
five-franc pieces now. Mother Coupeau could have kissed Lantier's hands.
He was, m