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"He sent me this morning to pawn my shawl and my chemises to pay for that cab." And she burst out crying. The memory of the events of that morning and of her trip to the pawn-place tore from her the sobs that had been choking her throat. That abominable trip to the pawn-place was the thing that hurt most in all her sorrow and despair.
The catastrophe was slowly approaching; the home sank deeper into the mire every week; there were ups and downs, however days when one had to rub one's stomach before the empty cupboard, and others when one ate veal enough to make one burst. Mother Coupeau was for ever being seen in the street, hiding bundles under her apron, and strolling in the direction of the pawn-place in the Rue Polonceau.
Finally the pawn-place had absorbed everything, one could not have got together three francs' worth of odds and ends, the clearance had been so complete; the nails remained in the walls and that was all and perhaps there were two pounds of them at three sous the pound.
He ended by taking up the pair of trousers and the shawl, and searching the drawers, he added two chemises and a woman's loose jacket to the parcel; then, he threw the whole bundle into Gervaise's arms, saying: "Here, go and pop this." "Don't you want me to pop the children as well?" asked she. "Eh! If they lent on children, it would be a fine riddance!" She went to the pawn-place, however.
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