ys in the Bicetre
mad-house. But his passion got the better of him; the first little glass
led him, in spite of himself, to a second, to a third and to a fourth,
and at the end of a fortnight, he had got back to his old ration, a pint
of vitriol a day. Gervaise, exasperated, could have beaten him. To think
that she had been stupid enough to dream once more of leading a worthy
life, just because she had seen him at the asylum in full possession of
his good sense! Another joyful hour had flown, the last one no doubt!
Oh! now, as nothing could reclaim him, not even the fear of his near
death, she swore she would no longer put herself out; the home might
be all at sixes and sevens, she did not care any longer; and she talked
also of leaving him.

Then hell upon earth recommenced, a life sinking deeper into the mire,
without a glimmer of hope for something better to follow. Nana, whenever
her father clouted her, furiously asked why the brute was not at the
hospital. She was awaiting the time when she would be earning money, she
would say, to treat him to brandy and make him croak quicker. Gervaise,
on her side, flew into a passion one day that Coupeau was regretting
their marriage. Ah! she had brought him her saucy children; ah! she had
got herself picked up from the pavement, wheedling him with rosy dreams!
_Mon Dieu!_ he had a rare cheek! So many words, so many lies. She hadn't
wished to have anything to do with him, that was the truth. He had
dragged himself at her feet to make her give way, whilst she was
advising him to think well what he was about. And if it was all to come
over again, he would hear how she would just say "no!" She would sooner
have an arm cut off. Yes, she'd had a lover before him; but a woman who
has had a lover, and who is a worker, is worth more than a sluggard of a
man who sullies his honor and that of his family in all the dram-shops.
That day, for the first time, the Coupeaus went in for a general brawl,
and they whacked each other so hard that an old umbrella and the broom
were broken.

Gervaise kept her word. She sank lower and lower; she missed going to
her work oftener, spent whole days in gossiping, and became as soft as a
rag whenever she had a task to perform. If a thing fell from her hands,
it might remain on the floor; it was certainly not she who would have
stooped to pick it up. She took her ease about everything, and never
handled a broom except when the accumulation of filth almost