His former position as an employer continued to affect his entire personality, like a title of nobility that he could not abandon.
He was always talking of concluding a magnificent deal with some hatmakers who were going to set him up in business.
While waiting for this he did nothing but stroll around all day like one of the idle rich.
If anyone dared to mention a hat factory looking for workers, he smiled and said he was not interested in breaking his back working for others.
A smart fellow like Lantier, according to Coupeau, knew how to take care of himself.
He always looked prosperous and it took money to look thus. He must have some deal going.
One morning Coupeau had seen him having his shoes shined on the Boulevard Montmartre.
Lantier was very talkative about others, but the truth was that he told lies about himself.
He would not even say where he lived, only that he was staying with a friend and there was no use in coming to see him because he was never in.
It was now early November.
Lantier would gallantly bring bunches of violets for Gervaise and the workwomen.
He was now coming almost every day.
He won the favor of Clemence and Madame Putois with his little attentions.
At the end of the month they adored him.
The Boches, whom he flattered by going to pay his respects in their concierge’s lodge, went into ecstasies over his politeness.
As soon as the Lorilleuxs knew who he was, they howled at the impudence of Gervaise in bringing her former lover into her home.
However, one day Lantier went to visit them and made such a good impression when he ordered a necklace for a lady of his acquaintance that they invited him to sit down. He stayed an hour and they were so charmed by his conversation that they wondered how a man of such distinction had ever lived with Clump-Clump.
Soon Lantier’s visits to the Coupeaus were accepted as perfectly natural; he was in the good graces of everyone along the Rue de la Goutte-d’Or.
Goujet was the only one who remained cold.
If he happened to be there when Lantier arrived, he would leave at once as he didn’t want to be obliged to be friendly to him.
In the midst, however, of all this extraordinary affection for Lantier, Gervaise lived in a state of great agitation for the first few weeks.
She felt that burning sensation in the pit of her stomach which affected her on the day when Virginie first alluded to her past life.
Her great fear was that she might find herself without strength, if he came upon her all alone one night and took it into his head to kiss her.
She thought of him too much; she was for ever thinking of him.
But she gradually became calmer on seeing him behave so well, never looking her in the face, never even touching her with the tips of his fingers when no one was watching.
Then Virginie, who seemed to read within her, made her ashamed of all her wicked thoughts.
Why did she tremble?
Once could not hope to come across a nicer man.
She certainly had nothing to fear now.
And one day the tall brunette maneuvered in such a way as to get them both into a corner, and to turn the conversation to the subject of love.
Lantier, choosing his words, declared in a grave voice that his heart was dead, that for the future he wished to consecrate his life solely for his son’s happiness.
Every evening he would kiss Etienne on the forehead, yet he was apt to forget him in teasing back and forth with Clemence. And he never mentioned Claude who was still in the south.
Gervaise began to feel at ease.
Lantier’s actual presence overshadowed her memories, and seeing him all the time, she no longer dreamed about him.
She even felt a certain repugnance at the thought of their former relationship.
Yes, it was over.
If he dared to approach her, she’d box his ears, or even better, she’d tell her husband.
Once again her thoughts turned to Goujet and his affection for her.
One morning Clemence reported that the previous night, at about eleven o’clock, she had seen Monsieur Lantier with a woman.
She told about it maliciously and in coarse terms to see how Gervaise would react.
Yes, Monsieur Lantier was on the Rue Notre Dame de Lorette with a blonde and she followed them.
They had gone into a shop where the worn-out and used-up woman had bought some shrimps.
Then they went to the Rue de La Rochefoucauld. Monsieur Lantier had waited on the pavement in front of the house while his lady friend went in alone. Then she had beckoned to him from the window to join her.
No matter how Clemence went on with the story Gervaise went on peacefully ironing a white dress.
Sometimes she smiled faintly.
These southerners, she said, are all crazy about women; they have to have them no matter what, even if they come from a dung heap.
When Lantier came in that evening, Gervaise was amused when Clemence teased him about the blonde.
He seemed to feel flattered that he had been seen.
Mon Dieu! she was just an old friend, he explained. He saw her from time to time.
She was quite stylish.