y saw the shadows wandering up and down. The tall
creature stuck closer than ever to the side of the door, and suddenly
fell upon a pale little man who was prudently poking his head out. Oh!
it was soon settled! She searched him and collared his coin. Caught,
no more money, not even enough to pay for a dram! Then the little man,
looking very vexed and cast down, followed his gendarme, weeping like a
child. The workmen were still coming out; and as the fat mother with the
two brats approached the door, a tall fellow, with a cunning look, who
noticed her, went hastily inside again to warn her husband; and when
the latter arrived he had stuffed a couple of cart wheels away, two
beautiful new five franc pieces, one in each of his shoes. He took one
of the brats on his arm, and went off telling a variety of lies to
his old woman who was complaining. There were other workmen also,
mournful-looking fellows, who carried in their clinched fists the pay
for the three or five days' work they had done during a fortnight,
who reproached themselves with their own laziness, and took drunkards'
oaths. But the saddest thing of all was the grief of the dark little
woman, with the humble, delicate look; her husband, a handsome fellow,
took himself off under her very nose, and so brutally indeed that he
almost knocked her down, and she went home alone, stumbling past the
shops and weeping all the tears in her body.

At last the defile finished. Gervaise, who stood erect in the middle of
the street, was still watching the door. The look-out seemed a bad one.
A couple of workmen who were late appeared on the threshold, but there
were still no signs of Coupeau. And when she asked the workmen if
Coupeau wasn't coming, they answered her, being up to snuff, that he had
gone off by the back-door with Lantimeche. Gervaise understood what
this meant. Another of Coupeau's lies; she could whistle for him if she
liked. Then shuffling along in her worn-out shoes, she went slowly down
the Rue de la Charbonniere. Her dinner was going off in front of her,
and she shuddered as she saw it running away in the yellow twilight.
This time it was all over. Not a copper, not a hope, nothing but night
and hunger. Ah! a fine night to kick the bucket, this dirty night which
was falling over her shoulders!

She was walking heavily up the Rue des Poissonniers when she suddenly
heard Coupeau's voice. Yes, he was there in the Little Civet, letting
My-Boots treat him. T