The Ladies' Paradise: A Realistic NovelZola, Émile
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The Ladies' Paradise: A Realistic Novel
Zola, Émile
Department stores -- Fiction; Paris (France) -- Fiction; Seduction -- Fiction; Women sales personnel -- Fiction
Other fears kept her awake. The two ladies on the first floor received
visitors up to a late hour; and sometimes a visitor mistook the floor
and came banging at Denise's door. Bourras having quietly told her not
to answer, she buried her face under her pillow to escape hearing their
oaths. Then, her neighbour, the baker, had shown a disposition to annoy
her: he never came home till the morning, and would lay in wait for her,
as she went to fetch her water; he even made holes in the wall, to watch
her washing herself, so that she was obliged to hang her clothes against
the wall. But she suffered still more from the annoyances of the street,
the continual persecution of the passers-by. She could not go downstairs
to buy a candle, in these streets swarming with the debauchees of the
old quarters, without feeling a warm breath behind her, and hearing
crude, insulting remarks; and the men pursued her to the very end of the
dark passage, encouraged by the sordid appearance of the house. Why had
she no lover? It astonished people, and seemed ridiculous. She would
certainly have to yield one day. She herself could not have explained
why she resisted, menaced as she was by hunger, and perturbed by the
desires with which the air around her was warm.
One evening Denise had not even any bread for Pépé's soup, when a
gentleman, wearing a decoration, commenced to follow her. On arriving
opposite the passage he became brutal, and it was with a disgusted,
shocked feeling that she banged the door in his face. Then, upstairs,
she sat down, her hands trembling. The little one was sleeping. What
should she say if he woke up and asked for bread? And yet she had only
to consent and her misery would be over, she could have money, dresses,
and a fine room. It was very simple, every one came to that, it was
said; for a woman alone in Paris could not live by her labour. But her
whole being rose up in protestation, without indignation against the
others, simply averse to the disgrace of the thing. She considered life
a matter of logic, good conduct, and courage.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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