s, Gervaise had replied to her, clinching her teeth:

"You're confined to your bed and you take advantage of it. Listen!
You're wrong. You see that I behave nicely to you, for I've never thrown
your past life into your teeth. Oh! I know all about it. No, don't
cough. I've finished what I had to say. It's only to request you to mind
your own business, that's all!"

The old woman almost choked. On the morrow, Goujet having called about
his mother's washing when Gervaise happened to be out, mother Coupeau
called him to her and kept him some time seated beside her bed. She knew
all about the blacksmith's friendship, and had noticed that for some
time past he had looked dismal and wretched, from a suspicion of the
melancholy things that were taking place. So, for the sake of gossiping,
and out of revenge for the quarrel of the day before, she bluntly told
him the truth, weeping and complaining as though Gervaise's wicked
behavior did her some special injury. When Goujet quitted the little
room, he leant against the wall, almost stifling with grief. Then, when
the laundress returned home, mother Coupeau called to her that Madame
Goujet required her to go round with her clothes, ironed or not; and she
was so animated that Gervaise, seeing something was wrong, guessed
what had taken place and had a presentiment of the unpleasantness which
awaited her.

Very pale, her limbs already trembling, she placed the things in a
basket and started off. For years past she had not returned the Goujets
a sou of their money. The debt still amounted to four hundred and
twenty-five francs. She always spoke of her embarrassments and received
the money for the washing. It filled her with shame, because she seemed
to be taking advantage of the blacksmith's friendship to make a fool of
him. Coupeau, who had now become less scrupulous, would chuckle and say
that Goujet no doubt had fooled around with her a bit, and had so paid
himself. But she, in spite of the relations she had fallen into with
Coupeau, would indignantly ask her husband if he already wished to eat
of that sort of bread. She would not allow anyone to say a word against
Goujet in her presence; her affection for the blacksmith remained like
a last shred of her honor. Thus, every time she took the washing home to
those worthy people, she felt a spasm of her heart the moment she put a
foot on their stairs.

"Ah! it's you, at last!" said Madame Goujet sharply, on opening the door
to h