A faded woolen curtain, raised up just then by a string, divided the place in two.

The first part contained a bedstead pushed beneath an angle of the attic ceiling, a cast-iron stove still warm from the cooking of the dinner, two chairs, a table and a wardrobe, the cornice of which had had to be sawn off to make it fit in between the door and the bedstead.

The second part was fitted up as a work-shop; at the end, a narrow forge with its bellows; to the right, a vise fixed to the wall beneath some shelves on which pieces of old iron lay scattered; to the left near the window, a small workman's bench, encumbered with greasy and very dirty pliers, shears and microscopical saws, all very dirty and grimy.
"It's us!" cried Coupeau advancing as far as the woolen curtain.
But no one answered at first.

Gervaise, deeply affected, moved especially by the thought that she was about to enter a place full of gold, stood behind the zinc-worker, stammering and venturing upon nods of her head by way of bowing.

The brilliant light, a lamp burning on the bench, a brazier full of coals flaring in the forge, increased her confusion still more.