omplain of as regards her health, thank goodness! She
was growing too fat. But two men to coddle was often more than she could
manage. Ah! _Mon Dieu!_ one husband is already too much for a woman! The
worst was that they got on very well together, the rogues. They never
quarreled; they would chuckle in each other's faces, as they sat of
an evening after dinner, their elbows on the table; they would rub up
against one another all the live-long day, like cats which seek and
cultivate their pleasure. The days when they came home in a rage, it was
on her that they vented it. Go it! hammer away at the animal! She had
a good back; it made them all the better friends when they yelled
together. And it never did for her to give them tit-for-tat. In the
beginning, whenever one of them yelled at her, she would appeal to the
other, but this seldom worked. Coupeau had a foul mouth and called her
horrible things. Lantier chose his insults carefully, but they often
hurt her even more.

But one can get used to anything. Soon their nasty remarks and all the
wrongs done her by these two men slid off her smooth skin like water off
a duck's back. It was even easier to have them angry, because when they
were in good moods they bothered her too much, never giving her time to
get a bonnet ironed.

Yes, Coupeau and Lantier were wearing her out. The zinc-worker, sure
enough, lacked education; but the hatter had too much, or at least he
had education in the same way that dirty people have a white shirt, with
uncleanliness underneath it. One night, she dreamt that she was on the
edge of a wall; Coupeau was knocking her into it with a blow of his
fist, whilst Lantier was tickling her in the ribs to make her fall
quicker. Well! That resembled her life. It was no surprise if she was
becoming slipshod. The neighbors weren't fair in blaming her for the
frightful habits she had fallen into. Sometimes a cold shiver ran
through her, but things could have been worse, so she tried to make
the best of it. Once she had seen a play in which the wife detested
her husband and poisoned him for the sake of her lover. Wasn't it more
sensible for the three of them to live together in peace? In spite of
her debts and poverty she thought she was quite happy and could live in
peace if only Coupeau and Lantier would stop yelling at her so much.

Towards the autumn, unfortunately, things became worse. Lantier
pretended he was getting thinner, and pulled a longer face o