He remained thus for nearly an hour, without giving way to sleep, in spite of the fatigue which weighed his eyelids down.
He finally turned toward Gervaise, his face set hard in determination.
She had gotten the children up and dressed and had almost finished cleaning the room.

The room looked, as always, dark and depressing with its sooty black ceiling and paper peeling from the damp walls.

The dilapidated furniture was always streaked and dirty despite frequent dustings.

Gervaise, devouring her grief, trying to assume a look of indifference, hurried over her work.
Lantier watched as she tidied her hair in front of the small mirror hanging near the window.

While she washed herself he looked at her bare arms and shoulders.