Going to the church himself, he bargained for a whole hour with a little
old priest in a dirty cassock who was as sharp at dealing as a push-cart
peddler. Coupeau felt like boxing his ears. For a joke, he asked the
priest if he didn't have a second-hand mass that would do for a modest
young couple. The priest, mumbling that God would take small pleasure
in blessing their union, finally let his have his mass for five francs.
Well after all, that meant twenty sous saved.

Gervaise also wanted to look decent. As soon as the marriage was
settled, she made her arrangements, worked extra time in the evenings,
and managed to put thirty francs on one side. She had a great longing
for a little silk mantle marked thirteen francs in the Rue du Faubourg
Poissonniere. She treated herself to it, and then bought for ten francs
of the husband of a washerwoman who had died in Madame Fauconnier's
house a blue woolen dress, which she altered to fit herself. With the
seven francs remaining she procured a pair of cotton gloves, a rose
for her cap, and some shoes for Claude, her eldest boy. Fortunately
the youngsters' blouses were passable. She spent four nights cleaning
everything, and mending the smallest holes in her stockings and chemise.

On Friday night, the eve of the great day, Gervaise and Coupeau had
still a good deal of running about to do up till eleven o'clock, after
returning home from work. Then before separating for the night they
spent an hour together in the young woman's room, happy at being about
to be released from their awkward position. In spite of the fact that
they had originally resolved not to put themselves out to impress the
neighbors, they had ended by taking it seriously and working themselves
till they were weary. By the time they said "Good-night," they were
almost asleep on their feet. They breathed a great sigh of relief now