Her hands would reach to feel her husband's limbs with the utmost gentleness.

Then she would draw back as she had been warned not to touch him.

But a few seconds later she would touch him to assure herself that he was still warm, feeling somehow that she was helping him.
When the stretcher at length arrived, and they talked of starting for the hospital, she got up, saying violently: "No, no, not to the hospital! We live in the Rue Neuve de la Goutte-d'Or." It was useless for them to explain to her that the illness would cost her a great deal of money, if she took her husband home.

She obstinately repeated: "Rue Neuve de la Goutte-d'Or; I will show you the house.

What can it matter to you?
I've got money.