The whole week went by.
Ah, it would be good luck if some woman took him in.
On Sunday Gervaise received a printed document.

It was to inform her that her husband was dying at the Sainte-Anne asylum.
Gervaise did not disturb herself.

He knew the way; he could very well get home from the asylum by himself.

They had cured him there so often that they could once more do him the sorry service of putting him on his pins again.

Had she not heard that very morning that for the week before Coupeau had been seen as round as a ball, rolling about Belleville from one dram shop to another in the company of My-Boots.