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?
Never!
I’d be the lowest of the low if it ever happened, and I wouldn’t deserve the friendship of an honest man like you.”
She seemed so sincere that he took her hand and made her sit down again.
He could breathe freely; his heart rejoiced.
This was the first time he had ever held her hand like this.
He pressed it in his own and they both sat quietly for a time.
“I know your mother doesn’t like me,” Gervaise said in a low voice.
“Don’t bother to deny it. We owe you so much money.”
He squeezed her hand tightly.
He didn’t want to talk of money.
Finally he said:
“I’ve been thinking of something for a long time. You are not happy where you are.
My mother tells me things are getting worse for you.
Well, then, we can go away together.”
She didn’t understand at first and stared at him, startled by this sudden declaration of a love that he had never mentioned.
Finally she asked: “What do you mean?”
“We’ll get away from here,” he said, looking down at the ground. “We’ll go live somewhere else, in Belgium, if you wish.
With both of us working, we would soon be very comfortable.”
Gervaise flushed.
She thought she would have felt less shame if he had taken her in his arms and kissed her.
Goujet was an odd fellow, proposing to elope, just the way it happens in novels.
Well, she had seen plenty of workingmen making up to married women, but they never took them even as far as Saint-Denis.
“Ah, Monsieur Goujet,” she murmured, not knowing what else to say.
“Don’t you see?” he said. “There would only be the two of us.
It annoys me having others around.”
Having regained her self-possession, however, she refused his proposal.
“It’s impossible, Monsieur Goujet.
It would be very wrong. I’m a married woman and I have children. We’d soon regret it.
I know you care for me, and I care for you also, too much to let you do anything foolish. It’s much better to stay just as we are.
We have respect for each other and that’s a lot.
It’s been a comfort to me many times.
When people in our situation stay on the straight, it is better in the end.”
He nodded his head as he listened.
He agreed with her and was unable to offer any arguments.
Suddenly he pulled her into his arms and kissed her, crushing her.
Then he let her go and said nothing more about their love.
She wasn’t angry. She felt they had earned that small moment of pleasure.
Goujet now didn’t know what to do with his hands, so he went around picking dandelions and tossing them into her basket.
This amused him and gradually soothed him.
Gervaise was becoming relaxed and cheerful.
When they finally left the vacant lot they walked side by side and talked of how much Etienne liked being at Lille. Her basket was full of yellow dandelions.
Gervaise, at heart, did not feel as courageous when with Lantier as she said.
She was, indeed, perfectly resolved not to hear his flattery, even with the slightest interest; but she was afraid, if ever he should touch her, of her old cowardice, of that feebleness and gloominess into which she allowed herself to glide, just to please people.
Lantier, however, did not avow his affection.
He several times found himself alone with her and kept quiet.
He seemed to think of marrying the tripe-seller, a woman of forty-five and very well preserved.
Gervaise would talk of the tripe-seller in Goujet’s presence, so as to set his mind at ease.