r or so, she knocked against the four corners of
the empty room. Then, suddenly, she paused with a fixed stare. So much
the worse! They might say what they liked; she would lick their feet if
needs be, but she would go and ask the Lorilleuxs to lend her ten sous.

At winter time, up these stairs of the house, the paupers' stairs, there
was a constant borrowing of ten sous and twenty sous, petty services
which these hungry beggars rendered each other. Only they would rather
have died than have applied to the Lorilleuxs, for they knew they were
too tight-fisted. Thus Gervaise displayed remarkable courage in going
to knock at their door. She felt so frightened in the passage that she
experienced the sudden relief of people who ring a dentist's bell.

"Come in!" cried the chainmaker in a sour voice.

How warm and nice it was inside. The forge was blazing, its white flame
lighting up the narrow workroom, whilst Madame Lorilleux set a coil of
gold wire to heat. Lorilleux, in front of his worktable, was perspiring
with the warmth as he soldered the links of a chain together. And it
smelt nice. Some cabbage soup was simmering on the stove, exhaling a
steam which turned Gervaise's heart topsy-turvy, and almost made her
faint.

"Ah! it's you," growled Madame Lorilleux, without even asking her to sit
down. "What do you want?"

Gervaise did not answer for a moment. She had recently been on fairly
good terms with the Lorilleuxs, but she saw Boche sitting by the stove.
He seemed very much at home, telling funny stories.

"What do you want?" repeated Lorilleux.

"You haven't seen Coupeau?" Gervaise finally stammered at last. "I
thought he was here."

The chainmakers and the concierge sneered. No, for certain, they hadn't
seen Coupeau. They didn't stand treat often enough to interest Coupeau.
Gervaise made an effort and resumed, stuttering:

"It's because he promised to come home. Yes, he's to bring me some
money. And as I have absolute need of something--"

Silence followed. Madame Lorilleux was roughly fanning the fire of the
stove; Lorilleux had lowered his nose over the bit of chain between his
fingers, while Boche continued laughing, puffing out his face till it
looked like the full moon.

"If I only had ten sous," muttered Gervaise, in a low voice.

The silence persisted.

"Couldn't you lend me ten sous? Oh! I would return them to you this
evening!"

Madame Lorilleux turned round and stared at her. Here was a whe