asleep on chairs, finishing the bottle
of wine that had been opened, worried and sulking, as though it was
their own fault.

Towards seven o'clock, before daylight, Coupeau at length awoke. When
he learnt his loss he at first stood still with dry eyes, stuttering
and vaguely thinking that they were playing him some joke. Then he threw
himself on the ground and went and knelt beside the corpse. His kissed
it and wept like a child, with such a copious flow of tears that he
quite wetted the sheet with wiping his cheeks. Gervaise had recommenced
sobbing, deeply affected by her husband's grief, and the best of friends
with him again. Yes, he was better at heart than she thought he was.
Coupeau's despair mingled with a violent pain in his head. He passed
his fingers through his hair. His mouth was dry, like on the morrow of
a booze, and he was still a little drunk in spite of his ten hours of
sleep. And, clenching his fist, he complained aloud. _Mon Dieu!_ she was
gone now, his poor mother, whom he loved so much! Ah! what a headache he
had; it would settle him! It was like a wig of fire! And now they were
tearing out his heart! No, it was not just of fate thus to set itself
against one man!

"Come, cheer up, old fellow," said Lantier, raising him from the ground;
"you must pull yourself together."

He poured him out a glass of wine, but Coupeau refused to drink.

"What's the matter with me? I've got copper in my throat. It's mamma.
When I saw her I got a taste of copper in my mouth. Mamma! _Mon Dieu!_
mamma, mamma!"

And he recommenced crying like a child. Then he drank the glass of wine,
hoping to put out the flame searing his breast. Lantier soon left, using
the excuse of informing the family and filing the necessary declaration
at the town hall. Really though, he felt the need of fresh air, and so
he took his time, smoking cigarettes and enjoying the morning air.
When he left Madame Lerat's house, he went into a dairy place on Les
Batignolles for a cup of hot coffee and remained there an hour, thinking
things over.

Towards nine o'clock the family were all united in the shop, the
shutters of which were kept up. Lorilleux did not cry. Moreover he had
some pressing work to attend to, and he returned almost directly to his
room, after having stalked about with a face put on for the occasion.
Madame Lorilleux and Madame Lerat embraced the Coupeaus and wiped their
eyes, from which a few tears were falling. But Madame Lor