aid at length. "He sent me this morning to pawn
the last of my things so that he could pay the cab." And she burst out
crying. Then, seeing the tall Virginie, with other women, staring at
her, a mad rage seized her, and noticing a bucket of water, she threw
its contents with all her might. A fierce quarrel ensued, ending in a
hand-to-hand conflict with flowing blood and torn garments. When her
rival was driven to flight Gervaise returned to her deserted lodgings.
Her tears again took possession of her. Lantier had forgotten nothing.
Even a little hand-glass and the packet of pawn tickets were gone.

_II.--Gervaise and Coupeau_

About three weeks later, at half-past eleven one beautiful day of
sunshine, Gervaise and Coupeau, the zinc-worker, were partaking together
of plums preserved in brandy at the "Assommoir" kept by old Colombe.
Coupeau, who had been smoking a cigarette on the pavement, had prevailed
on her to go inside as she crossed the road returning from taking home a
customer's washing; and her large square laundress's basket was on the
floor beside her, behind the little zinc-covered table.

Coupeau was making a fresh cigarette. He was very clean in a cap and a
short blue linen blouse, laughing and showing his white teeth. With a
projecting under jaw, and slightly snub nose, he had yet handsome
chestnut eyes, and the face of a jolly dog, and a good fellow. His
coarse, curly hair stood erect. His skin still preserved the softness of
his twenty-six years. Opposite to him, Gervaise, in a frock of black
Orleans stuff, and bareheaded, was finishing her plum, which she held by
the stalk between the tips of her fingers.

The zinc-worker, having lit his cigarette, placed his elbows on the
table, and said, "Then it's to be 'No,' is it?"

"Oh, most decidedly 'No,' Monsieur Coupeau," she replied. "You'll find
someone else prettier than I am who won't have two monkeys to drag about
with her."

But she did not repulse him entirely, and as, in his urgency, Coupeau
made a point of offering marriage, little by little Gervaise gave way.
At last, after a month, she yielded.

"How you do tease me," she murmured. "Well, then, yes. Ah, we're perhaps
doing a very foolish thing."

During the following days Coupeau sought to get Gervaise to call on his
sister in the Rue de la Goutte d'Or, but the young woman showed a great
dread of this visit to the Lorilleux. Coupeau was in no wise dependent
on his sister, only the Loril