She raised her skirts to her knees and really let herself go in a wild dance, whirling and turning, dropping to the floor in splits, and then jigging and bouncing.
Coupeau was trying to force his way through the dancers and was disrupting the quadrille.
"I tell you, it's my daughter!" he cried; "let me pass." Nana was now dancing backwards, sweeping the floor with her flounces, rounding her figure and wriggling it, so as to look all the more tempting.

She suddenly received a masterly blow just on the right cheek.
She raised herself up and turned quite pale on recognizing her father and mother.

Bad luck and no mistake.
"Turn him out!" howled the dancers.
But Coupeau, who had just recognized his daughter's cavalier as the scraggy young man in the coat, did not care a fig for what the people said.
"Yes, it's us," he roared.

"Eh?
You didn't expect it.

So we catch you here, and with a whipper-snapper, too, who insulted me a little while ago!" Gervaise, whose teeth were tight set, pushed him aside, exclaiming, "Shut up.