Gervaise was washing her colored things in the hot water thick with
lather, which she had kept for the purpose. When she had finished,
she drew a trestle towards her and hung across it all the different
articles; the drippings from which made bluish puddles on the floor; and
she commenced rinsing. Behind her, the cold water tap was set running
into a vast tub fixed to the ground, and across which were two wooden
bars whereon to lay the clothes. High up in the air were two other bars
for the things to finish dripping on.

"We're almost finished, and not a bad job," said Madame Boche. "I'll
wait and help you wring all that."

"Oh! it's not worth while; I'm much obliged though," replied the young
woman, who was kneading with her hands and sousing the colored things in
some clean water. "If I'd any sheets, it would be another thing."

But she had, however, to accept the concierge's assistance. They were
wringing between them, one at each end, a woolen skirt of a washed-out
chestnut color, from which dribbled a yellowish water, when Madame Boche
exclaimed:

"Why, there's tall Virginie! What has she come here to wash, when all
her wardrobe that isn't on her would go into a pocket handkerchief?"

Gervaise jerked her head up. Virginie was a girl of her own age, taller
than she was, dark and pretty in spite of her face being rather long and
narrow. She had on an old black dress with flounces, and a red ribbon
round her neck; and her hair was done up carefully, the chignon being
enclosed in a blue silk net. She stood an instant in the middle of the