"The beast! She's spoilt my dress!" cried the latter, whose shoulder
was sopping wet and whose left hand was dripping blue. "Just wait, you
wretch!"

In her turn she seized a bucket, and emptied it over Gervaise. Then a
formidable battle began. They both ran along the rows of tubs, seized
hold of the pails that were full, and returned to dash the contents
at each other's heads. And each deluge was accompanied by a volley of
words. Gervaise herself answered now:

"There, you scum! You got it that time. It'll help to cool you."

"Ah! the carrion! That's for your filth. Wash yourself for once in your
life."

"Yes, yes, I'll wash the salt out of you, you cod!"

"Another one! Brush your teeth, fix yourself up for your post to-night
at the corner of the Rue Belhomme."

They ended by having to refill the buckets at the water taps, continuing
to insult each other the while. The initial bucketfuls were so poorly
aimed as to scarcely reach their targets, but they soon began to splash
each other in earnest. Virginie was the first to receive a bucketful in
the face. The water ran down, soaking her back and front. She was still
staggering when another caught her from the side, hitting her left
ear and drenching her chignon which then came unwound into a limp,
bedraggled string of hair.

Gervaise was hit first in the legs. One pail filled her shoes full of