Gervaise, leaning over her tub and her arms up to the elbows in the soapsuds, nodded in acquiescence. "Yes," continued the concierge, "I have seen many little things." But she started back as Gervaise turned round with a pale face and quivering lips. "Oh, I know nothing," she continued. "He likes to laugh--that is all--and those two girls who are with us, you know, Adele and Virginie, like to laugh too, so they have their little jokes together, but that is all there is of it, I am sure." The young woman, with the perspiration standing on her brow and her arms still dripping, looked her full in the face with earnest, inquiring eyes. Then the concierge became excited and struck her breast, exclaiming: "I tell you I know nothing whatever, nothing more than I tell you!" Then she added in a gentle voice, "But he has honest eyes, my dear. He will marry you, child; I promise that he will marry you!" Gervaise dried her forehead with her damp hand and shook her head. The two women were silent for a moment; around them, too, it was very quiet. The clock struck eleven. Many of the women were seated swinging their feet, drinking their wine and eating their sausages, sandwiched between slices of bread. An occasional economical housewife hurried in with a small bundle under her arm, and a few sounds of the pounder were still heard at intervals; sentences were smothered in the full mouths, or a laugh was uttered, ending in a gurgling sound as the wine was swallowed, while the great machine puffed steadily on. Not one of the women, however, heard it; it was like the very respiration of the lavatory--the eager breath that drove up among the rafters the floating vapor that filled the room. The heat gradually became intolerable. The sun shone in on the left through the high windows, imparting to the vapor opaline tints--the palest rose and tender blue, fading into soft grays. When the women began to grumble the boy Charles went from one window to the other, drawing down the heavy linen shades. Then he crossed to the other side, the shady side, and opened the blinds. There was a general exclamation of joy--a formidable explosion of gaiety. All this time Gervaise was going on with her task and had just completed the washing of her colored pieces, which she threw over a trestle to drip; soon small pools of blue water stood on the floor. Then she began to rinse the garments in cold water which ran from a spigot near by. "You have nearly finished," said Mme Boche. "I am waiting to help you wring them." "Oh, you are very good! It is not necessary though!" answered the young woman as she swashed the garments through the clear water. "If I had sheets I would not refuse your offer, however." Nevertheless, she accepted the aid of the concierge. They took up a brown woolen skirt, badly faded, from which poured out a yellow stream as the two women wrung it together. Suddenly Mme Boche cried out: