And, as a glimmer of light passed under old Bazouge's door, she walked boldly in, seized with a mania for going off on the same journey as the little one.
That old joker, Bazouge, had come home that night in an extraordinary state of gaiety.

He had had such a booze that he was snoring on the ground in spite of the temperature, and that no doubt did not prevent him from dreaming something pleasant, for he seemed to be laughing from his stomach as he slept.

The candle, which he had not put out, lighted up his old garments, his black cloak, which he had drawn over his knees as though it had been a blanket.
On beholding him Gervaise uttered such a deep wailing that he awoke.
"_Mon Dieu!_ shut the door! It's so cold! Ah! it's you! What's the matter?
What do you want ?" Then, Gervaise, stretching out her arms, no longer knowing what she stuttered, began passionately to implore him: "Oh! take me away! I've had enough; I want to go off.

You mustn't bear me any grudge.

I didn't know.