t the end of an hour Gervaise, who had
remained with the house surgeon, repeated in a low voice:

"He's dead, sir; he's dead!"

But the house surgeon, who was watching the feet, shook his head. The
bare feet, projecting beyond the mattress, still danced on. They were
not particularly clean and the nails were long. Several more hours
passed. All on a sudden they stiffened and became motionless. Then the
house surgeon turned towards Gervaise, saying:

"It's over now."

Death alone had been able to stop those feet.

When Gervaise got back to the Rue de la Goutte-d'Or she found at the
Boches' a number of women who were cackling in excited tones. She
thought they were awaiting her to have the latest news, the same as the
other days.

"He's gone," said she, quietly, as she pushed open the door, looking
tired out and dull.

But no one listened to her. The whole building was topsy-turvy. Oh!
a most extraordinary story. Poisson had caught his wife with Lantier.
Exact details were not known, because everyone had a different version.
However, he had appeared just when they were not expecting him. Some
further information was given, which the ladies repeated to one another
as they pursed their lips. A sight like that had naturally brought
Poisson out of his shell. He was a regular tiger. This man, who talked
but little and who always seemed to walk with a stick up his back, had
begun to roar and jump about. Then nothing more had been heard. Lantier
had evidently explained things to the husband. Anyhow, it could not last
much longer, and Boche announced that the girl of the restaurant was for
certain going to take the shop for selling tripe. That rogue of a hatter
adored tripe.

On seeing Madame Lorilleux and Madame Lerat arrive, Gervaise repeated,
faintly:

"He's gone. _Mon Dieu!_ Four days' dancing and yelling--"

Then the two sisters could not do otherwise than pull out their
handkerchiefs. Their brother had had many faults, but after all he was
their brother. Boche shrugged his shoulders and said, loud enough to be
heard by everyone:

"Bah! It's a drunkard the less."

From that day, as Gervaise often got a bit befuddled, one of the
amusements of the house was to see her imitate Coupeau. It was no longer
necessary to press her; she gave the performance gratis, her hands and
feet trembling as she uttered little involuntary shrieks. She must have
caught this habit at Sainte-Anne from watching her husband too long.