Completely ruined!
Not a sou remaining.
They smiled gleefully at the small piece of bread she would bring back when she went shopping and kept count of the days when she had nothing at all to eat.
And the clothes she wore now.
Disgusting rags!
That’s what happened when one tried to live high.
Gervaise, who had an idea of the way in which they spoke of her, would take her shoes off, and place her ear against their door; but the rug over the door prevented her from hearing much.
She was heartily sick of them; she continued to speak to them, to avoid remarks, though expecting nothing but unpleasantness from such nasty persons, but no longer having strength even to give them as much as they gave her, passed the insults off as a lot of nonsense.
And besides she only wanted her own pleasure, to sit in a heap twirling her thumbs, and only moving when it was a question of amusing herself, nothing more.
One Saturday Coupeau had promised to take her to the circus.
It was well worth while disturbing oneself to see ladies galloping along on horses and jumping through paper hoops.
Coupeau had just finished a fortnight’s work, he could well spare a couple of francs; and they had also arranged to dine out, just the two of them, Nana having to work very late that evening at her employer’s because of some pressing order.
But at seven o’clock there was no Coupeau; at eight o’clock it was still the same.
Gervaise was furious.
Her drunkard was certainly squandering his earnings with his comrades at the dram-shops of the neighborhood.
She had washed a cap and had been slaving since the morning over the holes of an old dress, wishing to look decent.
At last, towards nine o’clock, her stomach empty, her face purple with rage, she decided to go down and look for Coupeau.
“Is it your husband you want?” called Madame Boche, on catching sight of Gervaise looking very glum.
“He’s at Pere Colombe’s.
Boche has just been having some cherry brandy with him.”
Gervaise uttered her thanks and stalked stiffly along the pavement with the determination of flying at Coupeau’s eyes.
A fine rain was falling which made the walk more unpleasant still.
But when she reached l’Assommoir, the fear of receiving the drubbing herself if she badgered her old man suddenly calmed her and made her prudent.
The shop was ablaze with the lighted gas, the flames of which were as brilliant as suns, and the bottles and jars illuminated the walls with their colored glass.
She stood there an instant stretching her neck, her eyes close to the window, looking between two bottle placed there for show, watching Coupeau who was right at the back; he was sitting with some comrades at a little zinc table, all looking vague and blue in the tobacco smoke; and, as one could not hear them yelling, it created a funny effect to see them gesticulating with their chins thrust forward and their eyes starting out of their heads.
Good heavens! Was it really possible that men could leave their wives and their homes to shut themselves up thus in a hole where they were choking?
The rain trickled down her neck; she drew herself up and went off to the exterior Boulevard, wrapped in thought and not daring to enter.
Ah! well Coupeau would have welcomed her in a pleasant way, he who objected to be spied upon!
Besides, it really scarcely seemed to her the proper place for a respectable woman.
Twice she went back and stood before the shop window, her eyes again riveted to the glass, annoyed at still beholding those confounded drunkards out of the rain and yelling and drinking.
The light of l’Assommoir was reflected in the puddles on the pavement, which simmered with little bubbles caused by the downpour.
At length she thought she was too foolish, and pushing open the door, she walked straight up to the table where Coupeau was sitting.
After all it was her husband she came for, was it not? And she was authorized in doing so, because he had promised to take her to the circus that evening.
So much the worse!
She had no desire to melt like a cake of soap out on the pavement.
“Hullo!
It’s you, old woman!” exclaimed the zinc-worker, half choking with a chuckle.
“Ah! that’s a good joke. Isn’t it a good joke now?”
All the company laughed.
Gervaise remained standing, feeling rather bewildered.
Coupeau appeared to her to be in a pleasant humor, so she ventured to say:
“You remember, we’ve somewhere to go.
We must hurry.
We shall still be in time to see something.”
“I can’t get up, I’m glued, oh! without joking,” resumed Coupeau, who continued laughing.
“Try, just to satisfy yourself; pull my arm with all your strength; try it! harder than that, tug away, up with it!
You see it’s that louse Pere Colombe who’s screwed me to his seat.”
Gervaise had humored him at this game, and when she let go of his arm, the comrades thought the joke so good that they tumbled up against one another, braying and rubbing their shoulders like donkeys being groomed.
The zinc-worker’s mouth was so wide with laughter that you could see right down his throat.
“You great noodle!” said he at length, “you can surely sit down a minute.