The Belly of Paris - Emile Zola [36]
After a long effort he managed to get permission to see Florent. But on his return from Bicêtre, he was bedridden with a fever. For nearly three weeks he lay in a lifeless, barely conscious state. That was his first and only illness. Meanwhile, Gradelle regularly cursed his republican nephew. One morning when he found out that Florent was being shipped to Cayenne, he went upstairs, tapped Quenu on the hand to wake him up, and brutally blurted out the news, provoking such a reaction that the next day the young man was up and out of bed. His sorrow melted, and his flabby flesh seemed to absorb all his tears. A month later he laughed and then grew angry with himself for laughing, but his lighthearted nature won out and soon he would laugh without reason.
He learned the charcuterie trade. It gave him even more pleasure than being a cook. Uncle Gradelle told him that he should not neglect the pots, that it was rare to find a charcutier who was also a good cook, and that he was lucky to have trained at a restaurant before coming to him. Gradelle made full use of Quenu's talents, having him cook dinners sent out to customers and putting him especially in charge of grilling and pork chops with cornichons.5 Since the young man was actually of great help, Gradelle grew fond of him in his way and would pinch his chubby arm when in a good mood. He sold the cheap furniture from the rue Royer-Collard and kept the money, forty francs and change—for safekeeping, he said, so that Quenu wouldn't just let the money slip through his fingers. Instead he gave him six francs each month for spending money.
Quenu, short of money and sometimes abused, was perfectly happy. He liked to have life parceled out for him. Florent had indulged him like a lazy daughter. Besides, he had made a friend at his uncle's. When his wife died, Gradelle had had to hire a girl to look after the shop and had deliberately chosen one healthy and attractive-looking, knowing that a good-looking girl would show off his charcuterie and charm his clients. He knew a widow living on rue Cuvier, near the Jardin des Plantes, whose late husband had been postmaster at Plassans,6 the seat of a subprefecture in the south of France. This woman, who lived modestly, her rent subsidized by an annuity, had brought to town a plump, pretty child whom she had raised as her daughter. Lisa, as the child was named, looked after the woman with a tranquil air, an even temper, and a serious demeanor, but she was lovely when she smiled. In fact, her great charm appeared on the rare occasions on which she showed her smile. Then she could caress with her eyes, and her usual seriousness gave an incalculable value to this unpredictable science of seduction. The elderly woman often said that Lisa's smile would lead her to perdition.
When the woman died of asthma, she left all her savings, some ten thousand francs, to her adopted daughter. Lisa stayed by herself at the rue Cuvier apartment for eight days before Gradelle went there to look for her. He knew her because the elderly woman had often brought her along on visits to the rue Pirouette. But at the funeral she was so strikingly beautiful and sturdily built that he followed her all the way to the cemetery. As the coffin was being lowered, he was thinking what a great thing it would be to have her at the charcuterie counter. He pondered and finally resolved to offer her thirty francs a month with room and board. When he made the proposal, Lisa asked for twenty-four hours to think it over. In the morning she turned up with a small bundle of clothes and ten thousand francs hidden in the bodice of her dress.
A month later she seemed to own the store, Gradelle, Quenu, and even the little kitchen boy. Quenu in particular would have chopped off his fingers just to please her.