“Ah, yes, in that manner perhaps we might. And yet no, I should be too much in your way.” He avoided looking at Gervaise. But he was evidently waiting for a word from her before accepting. She was very much annoyed at her husband’s idea; not that the thought of seeing Lantier living with them wounded her feelings, or made her particularly uneasy, but she was wondering where she would be able to keep the dirty clothes. Coupeau was going on about the advantages of the arrangement. Their rent, five hundred francs, had always been a bit steep. Their friend could pay twenty francs a month for a nicely furnished room and it would help them with the rent. He would be responsible for fixing up a big box under their bed that would be large enough to hold all the dirty clothes. Gervaise still hesitated. She looked toward mother Coupeau for guidance. Lantier had won over mother Coupeau months ago by bringing her gum drops for her cough. “You would certainly not be in our way,” Gervaise ended by saying. “We could so arrange things—” “No, no, thanks,” repeated the hatter. “You’re too kind; it would be asking too much.” Coupeau could no longer restrain himself. Was he going to continue making objections when they told him it was freely offered? He would be obliging them. There, did he understand? Then in an excited tone of voice he yelled: “Etienne! Etienne!” The youngster had fallen asleep on the table. He raised his head with a start. “Listen, tell him that you wish it. Yes, that gentleman there. Tell him as loud as you can: ‘I wish it!’” “I wish it!” stuttered Etienne, his voice thick with sleep. Everyone laughed. But Lantier resumed his grave and impressive air. He squeezed Coupeau’s hand across the table as he said: “I accept. It’s in all good fellowship on both sides, is it not? Yes, I accept for the child’s sake.” The next day when the landlord, Monsieur Marescot, came to spend an hour with the Boches, Gervaise mentioned the matter to him. He refused angrily at first. Then, after a careful inspection of the premises, particularly gazing upward to verify that the upper floors would not be weakened, he finally granted permission on condition there would be no expense to him. He had the Coupeaus sign a paper saying they would restore everything to its original state on the expiration of the lease. Coupeau brought in some friends of his that very evening—a mason, a carpenter and a painter. They would do this job in the evenings as a favor to him. Still, installing the door and cleaning up the room cost over one hundred francs, not counting the wine that kept the work going. Coupeau told his friends he’d pay them something later, out of the rent from his tenant.