“There’s the cavalcade, lions and panthers making grimaces—there’s brats dressed up as dogs and cats—there’s tall Clemence, with her wig full of feathers. Ah! _Mon Dieu!_ she’s turning head over heels; she’s showed everything—you’d better run, Duckie. Hey, the cops, leave her alone!—just you leave her alone—don’t shoot! Don’t shoot—” His voice rose, hoarse and terrified and he stooped down quickly, saying that the police and the military were below, men who were aiming at him with rifles. In the wall he saw the barrel of a pistol emerging, pointed at his breast. They had dragged the girl away. “Don’t shoot! _Mon Dieu!_ Don’t shoot!” Then, the buildings were tumbling down, he imitated the cracking of a whole neighborhood collapsing; and all disappeared, all flew off. But he had no time to take breath, other pictures passed with extraordinary rapidity. A furious desire to speak filled his mouth full of words which he uttered without any connection, and with a gurgling sound in his throat. He continued to raise his voice, louder and louder. “Hallow, it’s you? Good-day! No jokes! Don’t make me nuzzle your hair.” And he passed his hand before his face, he blew to send the hairs away. The house surgeon questioned him. “Who is it you see?” “My wife, of course!” He was looking at the wall, with his back to Gervaise. The latter had a rare fright, and she examined the wall, to see if she also could catch sight of herself there. He continued talking. “Now, you know, none of your wheedling—I won’t be tied down! You are pretty, you have got a fine dress. Where did you get the money for it, you cow? You’ve been at a party, camel! Wait a bit and I’ll do for you! Ah! you’re hiding your boy friend behind your skirts. Who is it? Stoop down that I may see. Damnation, it’s him again!” With a terrible leap, he went head first against the wall; but the padding softened the blow. One only heard his body rebounding onto the matting, where the shock had sent him. “Who is it you see?” repeated the house surgeon. “The hatter! The hatter!” yelled Coupeau. And the house surgeon questioning Gervaise, the latter stuttered without being able to answer, for this scene stirred up within her all the worries of her life. The zinc-worker thrust out his fists. “We’ll settle this between us, my lad. It’s full time I did for you! Ah, you coolly come, with that virago on your arm, to make a fool of me before everyone. Well! I’m going to throttle you—yes, yes, I! And without putting any gloves on either! I’ll stop your swaggering. Take that! And that! And that!”