"To get my eye scratched like I did the other day, I suppose! I'm not here for that sort of thing; I have enough to do without that.

Don't be afraid, a little bleeding does 'em good; it'll soften 'em." The concierge then talked of fetching the police; but the mistress of the wash-house, the delicate young woman with the red, inflamed eyes, would not allow her to do this.

She kept saying: "No, no, I won't; it'll compromise my establishment." The struggle on the ground continued.

All on a sudden, Virginie raised herself up on her knees.

She had just gotten hold of a beetle and held it on high.