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If it were clean they wouldn't send it to us," quietly explained Gervaise. "It smells as one would expect it to, that's all! We said fourteen chemises, didn't we, Madame Bijard? Fifteen, sixteen, seventeen " And she continued counting aloud. Used to this kind of thing she evinced no disgust.
But the child beggingly replied: "Pray, papa, don't don't strike me. I swear to you you will regret it. Don't strike!" "Will you jump up?" he roared still louder, "or else I'll tickle your ribs! Jump up, you little hound!" Then she softly said, "I can't do you understand? I'm going to die." Gervaise had sprung upon Bijard and torn the whip away from him. He stood bewildered in front of the bed.
Gervaise asked her husband if he had seen the Lorilleuxs in rather a severe tone; when he said no she smiled at him without a word of reproach. "You had best go and lie down," she said pleasantly. "We are very busy, and you are in our way. Did I say thirty-two handkerchiefs, Madame Bijard? Here are two more; that makes thirty-four."
"Madame Coupeau," murmured the child, "I beg you " With her little arms she tried to draw up the sheet again, ashamed as it were for her father. Bijard, as stultified as ever, with his eyes on the corpse which was his own work, still wagged his head, but more slowly, like a worried animal might do. When she had covered Lalie up again, Gervaise felt she could not remain there any longer.
What was the dirty brat talking about? Do girls die so young without even having been ill? Some excuse to get sugar out of him no doubt. Ah! he'd make inquiries, and if she lied, let her look out! "You will see, it's the truth," she continued. "As long as I could I avoided worrying you; but be kind now, and bid me good-bye, papa." Bijard wriggled his nose as if he fancied she was deceiving him.
She was very fond of Mme Bijard, who was her laundress and whose courage and industry she greatly admired. On the sixth floor a little crowd was assembled. Mme Boche stood at an open door. "Have done!" she cried. "Have done, or the police will be summoned." No one dared enter the room, because Bijard was well known to be like a madman when he was tipsy.
"I did not tell you as long as I could help it. Be kind to me now, Papa, and say good-by as if you loved me." Bijard passed his hand over his eyes. She did look very strangely her face was that of a grown woman. The presence of death in that cramped room sobered him suddenly. He looked around with the air of a man who had been suddenly awakened from a dream.
The child's arms were round her sister Henriette, a baby who had just been weaned. She stood with a sad, solemn face and serious, melancholy eyes but shed no tears. When Bijard slipped and fell Gervaise and Father Bru helped the poor creature to her feet, who then burst into sobs. Lalie went to her side, but she did not cry, for the child was already habituated to such scenes.
Then with a heart torn with anguish and with tears in her eyes, she told him of the death of Mme Bijard, who had breathed her last that morning after suffering unheard-of agonies. "It was caused by a kick of Bijard's," she said in her low, soft voice; "some internal injury. For three days she has suffered frightfully. Why are not such men punished?
She stood aghast at the scene and then was seized with noble rage. "Let her be!" she cried. "I will go myself and summon the police." Bijard growled like an animal who is disturbed over his prey. "Why do you meddle?" he exclaimed. "What business is it of yours?" And with another adroit movement he cut Lalie across the face. The blood gushed from her lip.