Then shuffling along in her worn-out shoes, she went slowly down the Rue de la Charbonniere.

Her dinner was going off in front of her, and she shuddered as she saw it running away in the yellow twilight.
This time it was all over.

Not a copper, not a hope, nothing but night and hunger.

Ah! a fine night to kick the bucket, this dirty night which was falling over her shoulders! She was walking heavily up the Rue des Poissonniers when she suddenly heard Coupeau's voice.

Yes, he was there in the Little Civet, letting My-Boots treat him.