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Updated: May 26, 2025
She tried to make fun and get him to bed, as she had done on the days when the wine had made him merry, but he pushed her aside, without opening his lips, and raised his fist to her in passing as he went to bed of his own accord. Then she grew cold. She thought of the men she knew of her husband, of Goujet, of Lantier her heart breaking, despairing of ever being happy. IV. Lantier's Return
He was pushing against me, trying to kiss me, but his face never even touched mine. It's true, and that was the first time he tried. Oh, I swear on my life, on the life of my children, oh, believe me!" Goujet was shaking his head. Gervaise said slowly: "Monsieur Goujet, you know me well. You know that I do not lie. On my word of honor, it never happened, and it never will, do you understand?
Isn't that quickly beaten into shape?" said he all the same, with his self-confidence, as he presented his work to Gervaise. "I'm no judge, sir," replied the laundress, reservedly. But she saw plainly enough the marks of Dedele's last two kicks on the bolt, and she was very pleased. She bit her lips so as not to laugh, for now Goujet had every chance of winning. It was now Golden-Mug's turn.
When her employees worked late, the lad had to sleep in a chair until they finished. Goujet had mentioned sending Etienne to Lille where a machinist he knew was looking for apprentices. As the boy was unhappy at home and eager to be out on his own, Gervaise seriously considered the proposal. Her only fear was that Lantier would refuse.
Mme Goujet had taken her place and her work by the window. "And the linen?" said Gervaise timidly. "Many thanks," said the old woman. "There is nothing this week." Gervaise turned pale; it was clear that Mme Goujet meant to take away her custom from her. She sank into a chair. She made no attempt at excuses; she only asked a question. "Is Monsieur Goujet ill?"
She thought of the men she knew of her husband, of Goujet, of Lantier her heart breaking, despairing of ever being happy. Gervaise's saint's day fell on the 19th of June. On such occasions, the Coupeaus always made a grand display; they feasted till they were as round as balls, and their stomachs were filled for the rest of the week. There was a complete clear out of all the money they had.
Distrust my colleague and look to me. I can save every one of you." "But what is it all about?" said Mademoiselle Goujet. "A matter of life and death; you must know that," replied Corentin. Madame d'Hauteserre fainted. To Mademoiselle Goujet's great astonishment and Corentin's disappointment, Laurence's room was empty.
Things might have gotten a bit out of line if Goujet, in response to a glance from Gervaise, had not brought back the respectful silence with "The Farewell of Abdul-Kader," which he sang out loudly in his bass voice. The song rang out from his golden beard as if from a brass trumpet. All the hearts skipped a beat when he cried, "Ah, my noble comrade!" referring to the warrior's black mare.
This visit paid by Gervaise to the forge was only the first of many others. She often went on Saturdays when she carried the clean linen to Mme Goujet, who still resided in the same house as before. The first year Gervaise had paid them twenty francs each month, or rather the difference between the amount of their washing, seven or eight francs, and the twenty which she agreed upon.
The lamplight flecked their rosy skin with gold specks, especially Gervaise who was so pleasantly rounded. On these nights Goujet would be overcome by the heat from the stove and the odor of linen steaming under the hot irons.
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