rl who so left her home did offend her parents; but, with
a gleam in the corner of his eyes, he added that, dash it! the girl was,
after all, too pretty to lead such a life of misery at her age.

"Do you know," cried Madame Lorilleux, one day in the Boches' room,
where the party were taking coffee; "well, as sure as daylight,
Clump-clump sold her daughter. Yes she sold her, and I have proof of it!
That old fellow, who was always on the stairs morning and night, went up
to pay something on account. It stares one in the face. They were seen
together at the Ambigu Theatre--the young wench and her old tom cat.
Upon my word of honor, they're living together, it's quite plain."

They discussed the scandal thoroughly while finishing their coffee.
Yes, it was quite possible. Soon most of the neighborhood accepted the
conclusion that Gervaise had actually sold her daughter.

Gervaise now shuffled along in her slippers, without caring a rap for
anyone. You might have called her a thief in the street, she wouldn't
have turned round. For a month past she hadn't looked at Madame
Fauconnier's; the latter had had to turn her out of the place to avoid
disputes. In a few weeks' time she had successively entered the service
of eight washerwomen; she only lasted two or three days in each place
before she got the sack, so badly did she iron the things entrusted to
her, careless and dirty, her mind failing to such a point that she quite
forgot her own craft. At last realizing her own incapacity she abandoned
ironing; and went out washing by the day at the wash-house in the
Rue Neuve, where she still jogged on, floundering about in the water,
fighting with filth, reduced to the roughest but simplest work, a bit
lower on the down-hill slopes. The wash-house scarcely beautified her.
A real mud-splashed dog when she came out of it, soaked and showing her
blue skin. At the same time she grew stouter and stouter, despite
her frequent dances before the empty sideboard, and her leg became so
crooked that she could no longer walk beside anyone without the risk of
knocking him over, so great indeed was her limp.

Naturally enough when a woman falls to this point all her pride leaves
her. Gervaise had divested herself of all her old self-respect, coquetry
and need of sentiment, propriety and politeness. You might have kicked
her, no matter where, she did not feel kicks for she had become too fat
and flabby. Lantier had altogether neglected her; he n