of the shop, and no one again thought of referring to the kitchen in
the Rue Pirouette, where a man had died. For quite a month women stopped
short on the footway to look at Lisa between the saveloys and bladders
in the window. Her white and pink flesh excited as much admiration as
the marbles. She seemed to be the soul, the living light, the healthy,
sturdy idol of the pork trade; and thenceforth one and all baptised her
"Lisa the beauty."

To the right of the shop was the dining-room, a neat looking apartment
containing a sideboard, a table, and several cane-seated chairs of light
oak. The matting on the floor, the wallpaper of a soft yellow tint, the
oil-cloth table-cover, coloured to imitate oak, gave the room a somewhat
cold appearance, which was relieved only by the glitter of a brass
hanging lamp, suspended from the ceiling, and spreading its big shade
of transparent porcelain over the table. One of the dining-room doors
opened into the huge square kitchen, at the end of which was a small
paved courtyard, serving for the storage of lumber--tubs, barrels
and pans, and all kinds of utensils not in use. To the left of the
water-tap, alongside the gutter which carried off the greasy water,
stood pots of faded flowers, removed from the shop window, and slowly
dying.

Business was excellent. Quenu, who had been much alarmed by the initial
outlay, now regarded his wife with something like respect, and told his
friends that she had "a wonderful head." At the end of five years they
had nearly eighty thousand francs invested in the State funds. Lisa
would say that they were not ambitious, that they had no desire to pile
up money too quickly, or else she would have enabled her husband to
gain hundreds and thousands of francs by prompting him to embark in the
wholesale pig trade. But they were still young, and had plenty of