Coupeau delivered the little speech with convincing sincerity and
punctuated each phrase by placing his hand on his heart. He won
whole-hearted approval from Lorilleux and Monsieur Madinier; but the
other four men, especially My-Boots, were already well lit and sneered.
They declared in hoarse drunken voices that they were thirsty and wanted
drinks.

"Those who're thirsty are thirsty, and those who aren't thirsty aren't
thirsty," remarked My-Boots. "Therefore, we'll order the punch. No one
need take offence. The aristocrats can drink sugar-and-water."

And as the zinc-worker commenced another sermon, the other, who had
risen on his legs, gave himself a slap, exclaiming:

"Come, let's have no more of that, my boy! Waiter, two quarts of your
aged stuff!"

So Coupeau said very well, only they would settle for the dinner at
once. It would prevent any disputes. The well-behaved people did not
want to pay for the drunkards; and it just happened that My-Boots,
after searching in his pockets for a long time, could only produce three
francs and seven sous. Well, why had they made him wait all that time on
the Route de Saint-Denis? He could not let himself be drowned and so he
had broken into his five-franc piece. It was the fault of the others,
that was all! He ended by giving the three francs, keeping the seven
sous for the morrow's tobacco. Coupeau, who was furious, would have
knocked him over had not Gervaise, greatly frightened, pulled him by his
coat, and begged him to keep cool. He decided to borrow the two francs
of Lorilleux, who after refusing them, lent them on the sly, for his
wife would never have consented to his doing so.