The forge was blazing, its white flame lighting up the narrow workroom, whilst Madame Lorilleux set a coil of gold wire to heat.

Lorilleux, in front of his worktable, was perspiring with the warmth as he soldered the links of a chain together.

And it smelt nice.

Some cabbage soup was simmering on the stove, exhaling a steam which turned Gervaise's heart topsy-turvy, and almost made her faint.
"Ah! it's you," growled Madame Lorilleux, without even asking her to sit down.

"What do you want ?" Gervaise did not answer for a moment.