gh his open mouth. His grey
hair was straggling into the puddle around his head.

"Oh! the pig! the pig!" repeated Gervaise, indignant and exasperated.
"He's dirtied everything. No, a dog wouldn't have done that, even a dead
dog is cleaner."

They both hesitated to move, not knowing where to place their feet.
Coupeau had never before come home and put the bedroom into such a
shocking state. This sight was a blow to whatever affection his wife
still had for him. Previously she had been forgiving and not seriously
offended, even when he had been blind drunk. But this made her sick; it
was too much. She wouldn't have touched Coupeau for the world, and just
the thought of this filthy bum touching her caused a repugnance such as
she might have felt had she been required to sleep beside the corpse of
someone who had died from a terrible disease.

"Oh, I must get into that bed," murmured she. "I can't go and sleep in
the street. Oh! I'll crawl into it foot first."

She tried to step over the drunkard, but had to catch hold of a corner
of the chest of drawers to save herself from slipping in the mess.
Coupeau completely blocked the way to the bed. Then, Lantier, who
laughed to himself on seeing that she certainly could not sleep on her
own pillow that night, took hold of her hand, saying, in a low and angry
voice:

"Gervaise, he is a pig."

She understood what he meant and pulled her hand free. She sighed to
herself, and, in her bewilderment, addressed him familiarly, as in the
old days.

"No, leave me alone, Auguste. Go to your own bed. I'll manage somehow to
lie at the foot of the bed."

"Come, Gervaise, don't be foolish," resumed he. "It's too abominable;
you can't remain here. Come with me. He won't hear us. What are you
afraid of?"

"No," she replied firmly, shaking her head vigorously. Then, to show
that she would remain where she was, she began to take off her clothes,
throwing her silk dress over a chair. She was quickly in only her
chemise and petticoat. Well, it was her own bed. She wanted to sleep in
her own bed and made two more attempts to reach a clean corner of the
bed.

Lantier, having no intention of giving up, whispered things to her.

What a predicament she was in, with a louse of a husband that prevented
her from crawling under her own blankets and a low skunk behind her just
waiting to take advantage of the situation to possess her again. She
begged Lantier to be quiet. Turning toward the sma