shadow on the ground. When she approached
a gas-lamp it gradually became less vague, till it stood out at last in
full force--an enormous shadow it was, positively grotesque, so portly
had she become. Her stomach, breast and hips, all equally flabby jostled
together as it were. She walked with such a limp that the shadow bobbed
almost topsy-turvy at every step she took; it looked like a real Punch!
Then as she left the street lamp behind her, the Punch grew taller,
becoming in fact gigantic, filling the whole Boulevard, bobbing to and
fro in such style that it seemed fated to smash its nose against the
trees or the houses. _Mon Dieu!_ how frightful she was! She had never
realised her disfigurement so thoroughly. And she could not help looking
at her shadow; indeed, she waited for the gas-lamps, still watching the
Punch as it bobbed about. Ah! she had a pretty companion beside her!
What a figure! It ought to attract the men at once! And at the thought
of her unsightliness, she lowered her voice, and only just dared to
stammer behind the passers-by:

"Sir, just listen."

It was now getting quite late. Matters were growing bad in the
neighborhood. The eating-houses had closed and voices, gruff with
drink, could be heard disputing in the wineshops. Revelry was turning to
quarreling and fisticuffs. A big ragged chap roared out, "I'll knock
yer to bits; just count yer bones." A large woman had quarreled with a
fellow outside a dancing place, and was calling him "dirty blackguard"
and "lousy bum," whilst he on his side just muttered under his breath.
Drink seemed to have imparted a fierce desire to indulge in blows, and
the passers-by, who were now less numerous, had pale contracted faces.
There was a battle at last; one drunken fellow came down on his back
with all four limbs raised in the air, whilst his comrade, thinking
he had done for him, ran off with his heavy shoes clattering over the
pavement. Groups of men sang dirty songs and then there would be long
silences broken only by hiccoughs or the thud of a drunk falling down.

Gervaise still hobbled about, going up and down, with the idea of
walking forever. At times, she felt drowsy and almost went to sleep,
rocked, as it were, by her lame leg; then she looked round her with a
start, and noticed she had walked a hundred yards unconsciously. Her
feet were swelling in her ragged shoes. The last clear thought that
occupied her mind was that her hussy of a daughter was pe