She would want rooms at the rear, on the sunny side.

Gervaise took a few more steps into the courtyard, inhaling the characteristic odor of the slums, comprised of dust and rotten garbage.

But the sharp odor of the waste water from the dye shop was strong, and Gervaise thought it smelled better here than at the Hotel Boncoeur.

She chose a window for herself, the one at the far left with a small window box planted with scarlet runners.
"I'm afraid I've kept you waiting rather a long time," said Coupeau, whom she suddenly heard close beside her.

"They always make an awful fuss whenever I don't dine with them, and it was worse than ever to-day as my sister had bought some veal." And as Gervaise had slightly started with surprise, he continued glancing around in his turn: "You were looking at the house.