nd in the
whole of it I see nothing of any Egyptian women or children."

"Patience!" resumed Mahiette, "you will see one child.--In '66, 'twill
be sixteen years ago this month, at Sainte-Paule's day, Paquette was
brought to bed of a little girl. The unhappy creature! it was a great
joy to her; she had long wished for a child. Her mother, good woman, who
had never known what to do except to shut her eyes, her mother was dead.
Paquette had no longer any one to love in the world or any one to love
her. La Chantefleurie had been a poor creature during the five years
since her fall. She was alone, alone in this life, fingers were pointed
at her, she was hooted at in the streets, beaten by the sergeants,
jeered at by the little boys in rags. And then, twenty had arrived: and
twenty is an old age for amorous women. Folly began to bring her in no
more than her trade of embroidery in former days; for every wrinkle that
came, a crown fled; winter became hard to her once more, wood became
rare again in her brazier, and bread in her cupboard. She could no
longer work because, in becoming voluptuous, she had grown lazy; and she
suffered much more because, in growing lazy, she had become voluptuous.
At least, that is the way in which monsieur the cure of Saint-Remy
explains why these women are colder and hungrier than other poor women,
when they are old."

"Yes," remarked Gervaise, "but the gypsies?"

"One moment, Gervaise!" said Oudarde, whose attention was less
impatient. "What would be left for the end if all were in the beginning?
Continue, Mahiette, I entreat you. That poor Chantefleurie!"

Mahiette went on.

"So she was very sad, very miserable, and furrowed her cheeks with
tears. But in the midst of her shame, her folly, her debauchery,
it seemed to her that she should be less wild, less shameful, less
dissipated, if there were something or some one in the world whom she
could love, and who could love her. It was necessary that it should be a
child, because only a child could be sufficiently innocent for that. She
had recognized this fact after having tried to love a thief, the only
man who wanted her; but after a short time, she perceived that the thief
despised her. Those women of love require either a lover or a child to
fill their hearts. Otherwise, they are very unhappy. As she could not
have a lover, she turned wholly towards a desire for a child, and as she
had not ceased to be pious, she made her constant prayer t