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Updated: May 26, 2025
Goujet, seeing that Gervaise did not know what to do with Etienne, and wishing to deliver him from Coupeau's kicks, had engaged him to go and blow the bellows at the factory where he worked.
The old woman had, too, the additional pleasure of telling Gervaise on her return that Mme Goujet had sent word that her linen must be returned to her at once, ironed or unironed. And she was so animated and comparatively amiable that Gervaise scented the truth and knew instinctively what she had done and what she was to expect with Goujet.
He thought of the time when she had come to the forge and of the joy with which he would have welcomed her then to his room. And now she was there! She finished her bread amid great silent tears and then rose to her feet. Goujet took her hand. "I love you, Madame Gervaise; I love you still," he cried. "Do not say that," she exclaimed, "for it is impossible." He leaned toward her.
Such desecration excited both fear and indignation among the faithful servants of the house, who still stood motionless about the salon. Monsieur d'Hauteserre exchanged looks of commiseration with his wife and Mademoiselle Goujet. A species of horrible curiosity kept every one on the qui vive.
He had been obliged to come home instead of returning to the forge, and he had gone to lie down on his bed to get a rest. Madame Goujet talked gravely, wearing her black dress as usual and her white face framed in her nun-like coif. The pay at the forge had been cut again. It was now only seven francs a day because the machines did so much of the work.
Every time she took home the linen of these former friends she ascended the stairs with a sick heart. "Ah, it is you, is it?" said Mme Goujet coldly as she opened the door. Gervaise entered with some hesitation; she did not dare attempt to excuse herself. She was no longer punctual to the hour or the day everything about her was becoming perfectly disorderly.
"Listen, mamma's wrong," said he to the laundress in a voice that was scarcely audible. "You owe me nothing. I won't have it mentioned again." He had raised himself up and was looking at her. Big tears at once filled his eyes. "Do you suffer, Monsieur Goujet?" murmured she. "What is the matter with you? Tell me!" "Nothing, thanks. I tired myself with too much work yesterday. I will rest a bit."
Soon Lantier's visits to the Coupeaus were accepted as perfectly natural; he was in the good graces of everyone along the Rue de la Goutte-d'Or. Goujet was the only one who remained cold. If he happened to be there when Lantier arrived, he would leave at once as he didn't want to be obliged to be friendly to him.
Especially since the woman said she had hurt herself falling. She wanted to save him from the scaffold, but she screamed all night long before she died." Goujet clenched his hands and remained silent. "She weaned her youngest only two weeks ago, little Jules," Gervaise went on. "That's lucky for the baby, he won't have to suffer. Still, there's the child Lalie and she has two babies to look after.
It was all right not to get drunk all the time or chase women, but still, a man must be a man, or else he might as well wear skirts. Coupeau teased him in front of Gervaise, accusing him of making up to all the women in the neighborhood. Goujet vigorously defended himself against the charge. But this didn't prevent the two workingmen from becoming best of friends.
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