pite of her efforts, she had ended by falling
into a dose.

"What's most disgusting is that Nana might have heard everything,"
continued she. "She was indeed restless all the night, she who usually
sleeps so sound. She tossed about and kept turning over as though there
had been some lighted charcoal in her bed."

The other two women did not seem at all surprised.

"Of course!" murmured Madame Lorilleux, "it probably began the very
first night. But as it pleases Coupeau, we've no business to interfere.
All the same, it's not very respectable."

"As for me," declared Madame Lerat through clenched teeth, "if I'd been
there, I'd have thrown a fright into them. I'd have shouted something,
anything. A doctor's maid told me once that the doctor had told her that
a surprise like that, at a certain moment, could strike a woman dead.
If she had died right there, that would have been well, wouldn't it? She
would have been punished right where she had sinned."

It wasn't long until the entire neighborhood knew that Gervaise visited
Lantier's room every night. Madame Lorilleux was loudly indignant,
calling her brother a poor fool whose wife had shamed him. And her poor
mother, forced to live in the midst of such horrors. As a result, the
neighbors blamed Gervaise. Yes, she must have led Lantier astray; you
could see it in her eyes. In spite of the nasty gossip, Lantier was
still liked because he was always so polite. He always had candy or
flowers to give the ladies. _Mon Dieu!_ Men shouldn't be expected to
push away women who threw themselves at them. There was no excuse for
Gervaise. She was a disgrace. The Lorilleuxs used to bring Nana up
to their apartment in order to find out more details from her, their
godchild. But Nana would put on her expression of innocent stupidity
and lower her long silky eyelashes to hide the fire in her eyes as she
replied.

In the midst of this general indignation, Gervaise lived quietly on,
feeling tired out and half asleep. At first she considered herself very
sinful and felt a disgust for herself. When she left Lantier's room she
would wash her hands and scrub herself as if trying to get rid of an
evil stain. If Coupeau then tried to joke with her, she would fly into a
passion, and run and shiveringly dress herself in the farthest corner
of the shop; neither would she allow Lantier near her soon after her
husband had kissed her. She would have liked to have changed her skin as
she changed m