"It upsets me too much; I'll come again." She was quite white.

Coupeau was continuing his breakdown from the window to the mattress and from the mattress to the window, perspiring, toiling, always beating the same rhythm.

Then she hurried away.

But though she scrambled down the stairs, she still heard her husband's confounded jig until she reached the bottom.

Ah! _Mon Dieu!_ how pleasant it was out of doors, one could breathe there! That evening everyone in the tenement was discussing Coupeau's strange malady.