He even went so far as to abuse Coupeau, accusing him of not knowing how to make his wife respect his friend.

Then, realising that passion would compromise everything, he swore that he would never again interest himself in the affairs of other people, for one always got more kicks than thanks; and indeed he appeared to have given up all idea of talking them into parting with the lease, but he was really watching for a favorable opportunity of broaching the subject again and of bringing the laundress round to his views.
January had now arrived; the weather was wretched, both damp and cold.
Mother Coupeau, who had coughed and choked all through December, was obliged to take to her bed after Twelfth-night.

It was her annuity, which she expected every winter.

This winter though, those around her said she'd never come out of her bedroom except feet first.

Indeed, her gaspings sounded like a death rattle.