Then Gervaise could be heard taking off his shoes. She removed his clothes too, bullying him in a motherly way. He burst out laughing after she had removed his trousers and kicked about, pretending that she was tickling him. At last she tucked him in carefully like a child. Was he comfortable now? But he did not answer; he called to Clemence: “I say, my lovely, I’m here, and waiting for you!” When Gervaise went back into the shop, the squint-eyed Augustine was being properly chastised by Clemence because of a dirty iron that Madame Putois had used and which had caused her to soil a camisole. Clemence, in defending herself for not having cleaned her iron, blamed Augustine, swearing that it wasn’t hers, in spite of the spot of burned starch still clinging to the bottom. The apprentice, outraged at the injustice, openly spat on the front of Clemence’s dress, earning a slap for her boldness. Now, as Augustine went about cleaning the iron, she saved up her spit and each time she passed Clemence spat on her back and laughed to herself. Gervaise continued with the lace of Madame Boche’s cap. In the sudden calm which ensued, one could hear Coupeau’s husky voice issuing from the depths of the bedroom. He was still jolly, and was laughing to himself as he uttered bits of phrases. “How stupid she is, my wife! How stupid of her to put me to bed! Really, it’s too absurd, in the middle of the day, when one isn’t sleepy.” But, all on a sudden, he snored. Then Gervaise gave a sigh of relief, happy in knowing that he was at length quiet, and sleeping off his intoxication on two good mattresses. And she spoke out in the silence, in a slow and continuous voice, without taking her eyes off her work. “You see, he hasn’t his reason, one can’t be angry. Were I to be harsh with him, it would be of no use. I prefer to agree with him and get him to bed; then, at least, it’s over at once and I’m quiet. Besides, he isn’t ill-natured, he loves me very much. You could see that just a moment ago when he was desperate to give me a kiss. That’s quite nice of him. There are plenty of men, you know, who after drinking a bit don’t come straight home but stay out chasing women. Oh, he may fool around with the women in the shop, but it doesn’t lead to anything. Clemence, you mustn’t feel insulted. You know how it is when a man’s had too much to drink. He could do anything and not even remember it.” She spoke composedly, not at all angry, being quite used to Coupeau’s sprees and not holding them against him. A silence settled down for a while when she stopped talking. There was a lot of work to get done. They figured they would have to keep at it until eleven, working as fast as they could. Now that they were undisturbed, all of them were pounding away. Bare arms were moving back and forth, showing glimpses of pink among the whiteness of the laundry.