Look, that's pretty--that window up on the fifth floor, with the scarlet runners." The zinc-worker's obstinate desire made him ask her once more whether she would or she wouldn't.

They could rent a place here as soon as they found a bed.

She hurried out the arched entranceway, asking him not to start that subject again.

There was as much chance of this building collapsing as there was of her sleeping under the same blanket with him.
Still, when Coupeau left her in front of Madame Fauconnier's shop, he was allowed to hold her hand for a moment.
For a month the young woman and the zinc-worker were the best of friends.

He admired her courage, when he beheld her half killing herself with work, keeping her children tidy and clean, and yet finding time at night to do a little sewing.