Her first sensation was one of choking,
caused by an overpowering odor of alcohol which filled the room; every
article of furniture seemed to exude this odor, the whole house was
impregnated with it. At last, when her eyes had become accustomed to the
semi-obscurity, she perceived Macquart. He was seated at the table,
on which were a glass and a bottle of spirits of thirty-six degrees,
completely empty. Settled in his chair, he was sleeping profoundly, dead
drunk. This spectacle revived her anger and contempt.

"Come, Macquart," she cried, "is it not vile and senseless to put one's
self in such a state! Wake up, I say, this is shameful!"

His sleep was so profound that she could not even hear him breathing. In
vain she raised her voice, and slapped him smartly on the hands.

"Macquart! Macquart! Macquart! Ah, faugh! You are disgusting, my dear!"

Then she left him, troubling herself no further about him, and walked
around the room, evidently seeking something. Coming down the dusky road
from the asylum she had been seized with a consuming thirst, and she
wished to get a glass of water. Her gloves embarrassed her, and she took
them off and put them on a corner of the table. Then she succeeded in
finding the jug, and she washed a glass and filled it to the brim, and
was about to empty it when she saw an extraordinary sight--a sight which
agitated her so greatly that she set the glass down again beside her
gloves, without drinking.

By degrees she had begun to see objects more clearly in the room, which
was lighted dimly by a few stray sunbeams that filtered through the
cracks of the old shutters. She now saw Uncle Macquart distinctly,
neatly dressed in a blue cloth suit, as usual, and on his head the
eternal fur cap which he wore from one year's end to the other. He had
grown stout during the last five or six years, and he looked like a
veritable mountain of flesh overlaid with rolls of fat. And she noticed
that he must have fallen asleep while smoking, for his pipe--a short
black pipe--had fallen into his lap. Then she stood still, stupefied
with amazement--the burning tobacco had been scattered in the fall, and
the cloth of the trousers had caught fire, and through a hole in the
stuff, as large already as a hundred-sous piece, she saw the bare thigh,
whence issued a little blue flame.

At first Felicite had thought that it was linen--the drawers or the
shirt--that was burning. But soon doubt was no longer possible,