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"Oh, you are none too amiable. You beat people sometimes, I have heard." She laughed gaily. Yes, it was true she had whipped that great Virginie. That day she could have strangled someone with a glad heart. And she laughed again, because Coupeau told her that Virginie, in her humiliation, had left the Quartier. Gervaise's face, as she laughed, however, had a certain childish sweetness.
Was there much doubt of it? had there ever been any doubt of it? "And I have always liked you," he added; and then he paused. She looked up again, this time a certain tender reproach and surprise lying behind her evident delight and love. "Had not my darling Virginie come between us you would have been my wife long ago," said Mr.
"Oh! you're not kind. You just go around whipping people." She interrupted him with a hearty laugh. It was true, though, she had whipped Virginie's tall carcass. She would have delighted in strangling someone on that day. She laughed louder than ever when Coupeau told her that Virginie, ashamed at having shown so much cowardice, had left the neighborhood.
I know, Jeanne, I can trust you, and it isn't because I doubted your courage that I have not told you exactly how things are going on, but because it is entirely upon you now that Louise and Virginie have to depend, and I do not wish to put any more weight on your shoulders; but it will be a relief to me to tell you exactly how we stand."
"I should be very glad," Harry said eagerly, for although he had seen no other way out of it, the difficulties and inconveniences of a journey alone with Jeanne and Virginie had been continually on his mind. The idea of taking the old woman with them had never occurred to him, but now he hailed it as a most welcome solution of the difficulty.
But as Virginie was so polite just now she must be polite in her turn. Poisson, the husband, was a man of thirty-five with a mustache and imperial; he was seated at a table near the window, making little boxes. His only tools were a penknife, a tiny saw and a gluepot; he was executing the most wonderful and delicate carving, however. He never sold his work but made presents of it to his friends.
The artless flute-strains of his lyrics awoke within me the music of fields and forest-glades. Into these same pages I have wept many a tear over a pathetic translation of Paul and Virginie.
She would, on the contrary, engage some fresh workwomen and work up a fresh connection. Lantier made the mistake of mentioning Virginie again. This stirred Gervaise into furious obstinacy. No! Never! She had always had her suspicions of what was in Virginie's heart. Virginie only wanted to humiliate her.
But Virginie was triumphant, for she had her way, and the Lorilleuxs did not spare Gervaise the description of a case or a jar. It was said in the street that Lantier had deserted Gervaise, that she gave him no peace running after him, but this was not true, for he went and came to her apartment as he pleased. Scandal was connecting his name and Virginie's.
"'Clement was dead guillotined. Virginie was dead guillotined. "When Flechier had told me thus much, he could not speak for sobbing; and I, myself, could hardly tell how to restrain my tears sufficiently, until I could go to my own room and be at liberty to give way. He asked my leave to bring in his friend Le Febvre, who was walking in the square, awaiting a possible summons to tell his story.
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