With her feelings greatly hurt, furious at the ex-roaster’s five-franc pieces eluding her grasp, she nurtured great spite against him.  He became the enemy to whom she devoted all her time.  When she saw him set up in the markets only a few yards away from the pavilion where she herself sold butter and eggs and cheese, she accused him of doing so simply for the sake of annoying her and bringing her bad luck.  From that moment she began to lament, and turned so yellow and melancholy that she indeed ended by losing her customers and getting into difficulties.  She had for a long time kept with her the daughter of one of her sisters, a peasant woman who had sent her the child and then taken no further trouble about it.

This child grew up in the markets.  Her surname was Sarriet, and so she soon became generally known as La Sarriette.  At sixteen years of age she had developed into such a charming sly-looking puss that gentlemen came to buy cheeses at her aunt’s stall simply for the purpose of ogling her.  She did not care for the gentlemen, however; with her dark hair, pale face, and eyes glistening like live embers, her sympathies were with the lower ranks of the people.  At last she chose as her lover a young man from Menilmontant who was employed by her aunt as a porter.  At twenty she set up in business as a fruit dealer with the help of some funds procured no one knew how; and thenceforth Monsieur Jules, as her lover was called, displayed spotless hands, a clean blouse, and a velvet cap; and only came down to the market in the afternoon, in his slippers.  They lived together on the third storey of a large house in the Rue Vauvilliers, on the ground floor of which was a disreputable cafe.

Madame Lecoeur’s acerbity of temper was brought to a pitch by what she called La Sarriette’s ingratitude, and she spoke of the girl in the most violent and abusive language.  They broke off all intercourse, the aunt fairly exasperated, and the niece and Monsieur Jules concocting stories about the aunt, which the young man would repeat to the other dealers in the butter pavilion.  Gavard found La Sarriette very entertaining, and treated her with great indulgence.  Whenever they met he would good-naturedly pat her cheeks.

One afternoon, whilst Florent was sitting in his brother’s shop, tired out with the fruitless pilgrimages he had made during the morning in search of work, Marjolin made his appearance there.  This big lad, who had the massiveness and gentleness of a Fleming, was a protege of Lisa’s.  She would say that there was no evil in him; that he was indeed a little bit stupid, but as strong as a horse, and particularly interesting from the fact that nobody knew anything of his parentage.  It was she who had got Gavard to employ him.

Lisa was sitting behind the counter, feeling annoyed by the sight of Florent’s muddy boots which were soiling the pink and white tiles of the flooring.  Twice already had she risen to scatter sawdust about the shop.  However, she smiled at Marjolin as he entered.