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Updated: June 1, 2025


"He's a neighbor of ours the third room in the passage before us. He would find himself in a nice mess if his people were to see him like this!" Old Bazouge, however, felt offended at the young woman's evident terror. "Well, what!" hiccoughed he, "we ain't going to eat any one. I'm as good as another any day, my little woman. No doubt I've had a drop!

The laundress also suffered a great deal from the close neighborhood of Bazouge, the undertaker's helper. A simple partition, and a very thin one, separated the two rooms. He could not put his fingers down his throat without her hearing it. As soon as he came home of an evening she listened, in spite of herself, to everything he did.

Old Bazouge could get a box ready; she would not last long at that rate! But the child had begged the laundress not to say a word. She would not have her father bothered on her account. She took his part, affirming that he would not have been so wicked if it had not been for the drink. He was mad, he did not know what he did. Oh! she forgave him, because one ought to forgive madmen everything.

"Well! is there no one there now?" resumed Bazouge in silence. "Wait a bit, we're always ready to oblige the ladies." "It's nothing, nothing," said the laundress at length in a choking voice. "I don't require anything, thanks." She remained anxious, listening to old Bazouge grumbling himself to sleep, afraid to stir for fear he would think he heard her knocking again.

One morning, as there was a bad smell in the passage, it was remembered that she had not been seen for two days, and she was discovered already green in her hole. It happened to be old Bazouge who came with the pauper's coffin under his arm to pack her up. He was again precious drunk that day, but a jolly fellow all the same, and as lively as a cricket.

He had already taken up the sack again, and the laundress was obliged to call to him: "Leave it alone, it's for here." "Ah! Mon Dieu! Now I understand!" resumed he, slapping his thigh. "It's for the old lady." Gervaise had turned quite pale. Old Bazouge had brought the coffin for her.

"What is it? what is it?" stuttered Bazouge; "who's unwell? We're coming, little woman!" But the sound of this husky voice awoke Gervaise as though from a nightmare. And a feeling of horror ascended from her knees to her shoulders at the thought of seeing herself lugged along in the old fellow's arms, all stiff and her face as white as a china plate.

Monsieur Madinier, extending his arms, came and said in a low grave voice: "Here they are!" It was not the hearse though. Four helpers entered hastily in single file, with their red faces, their hands all lumpy like persons in the habit of moving heavy things, and their rusty black clothes worn and frayed from constant rubbing against coffins. Old Bazouge walked first, very drunk and very proper.

Old Bazouge!" called Coupeau, "come and have a drink. We're not proud; we're all workers." The four undertaker's helpers, who had started to leave, came back to raise glasses with the group. They thought that the lady had weighed quite a bit and they had certainly earned a glass of wine. Old Bazouge gazed steadily at Gervaise without saying a word.

Come, be off, as you've no respect for principles." Bazouge moved away, but one could hear him stuttering as he dragged along the pavement: "Well! What? Principles! There's no such thing as principles, there's no such thing as principles there's only common decency!" At length ten o'clock struck. The hearse was late.

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