It was she who at length said: "Well! Good-night; send me back my things and we will settle up afterwards." "Yes, it will be best so--good-night," stammered Gervaise.
She took a last look around the neatly arranged room and thought as she shut the door that she seemed to be leaving some part of her better self behind.

She plodded blindly back to the laundry, scarcely knowing where she was going.
When Gervaise arrived, she found mother Coupeau out of her bed, sitting on a chair by the stove.

Gervaise was too tired to scold her.

Her bones ached as though she had been beaten and she was thinking that her life was becoming too hard to bear.

Surely a quick death was the only escape from the pain in her heart.
After this, Gervaise became indifferent to everything.