etite,
feeling hesitant about even raising a fork. After lunch Lantier went
to the undertaker's again with the ninety francs. Thirty had come from
Madame Lerat and Gervaise had run, with her hair all loose, to borrow
sixty francs from Goujet.

Several of the neighbors called in the afternoon, mainly out of
curiosity. They went into the little room to make the sign of the cross
and sprinkle some holy water with the boxwood sprig. Then they sat in
the shop and talked endlessly about the departed. Mademoiselle Remanjou
had noticed that her right eye was still open. Madame Gaudron maintained
that she had a fine complexion for her age. Madame Fauconnier kept
repeating that she had seen her having coffee only three days earlier.

Towards evening the Coupeaus were beginning to have had enough of it.
It was too great an affliction for a family to have to keep a corpse so
long a time. The government ought to have made a new law on the subject.
All through another evening, another night, and another morning--no!
it would never come to an end. When one no longer weeps, grief turns to
irritation; is it not so? One would end by misbehaving oneself. Mother
Coupeau, dumb and stiff in the depths of the narrow chamber, was
spreading more and more over the lodging and becoming heavy enough to
crush the people in it. And the family, in spite of itself, gradually
fell into the ordinary mode of life, and lost some portion of its
respect.

"You must have a mouthful with us," said Gervaise to Madame Lerat and
Madame Lorilleux, when they returned. "We're too sad; we must keep
together."

They laid the cloth on the work-table. Each one, on seeing the plates,
thought of the feastings they had had on it. Lantier had returned.
Lorilleux came down. A pastry-cook had just brought a meat pie, for the
laundress was too upset to attend to any cooking. As they were taking
their seats, Boche came to say that Monsieur Marescot asked to be
admitted, and the landlord appeared, looking very grave, and wearing
a broad decoration on his frock-coat. He bowed in silence and went
straight to the little room, where he knelt down. All the family,
leaving the table, stood up, greatly impressed. Monsieur Marescot,
having finished his devotions, passed into the shop and said to the
Coupeaus:

"I have come for the two quarters' rent that's overdue. Are you prepared
to pay?"

"No, sir, not quite," stammered Gervaise, greatly put out at hearing
this mentioned be