One night she had taken the remains of an endive and beetroot salad to the concierge's room, knowing that the latter would have done anything for such a treat.

But on the morrow she became quite pale with rage on hearing Mademoiselle Remanjou relate how Madame Boche had thrown the salad away in the presence of several persons with an air of disgust and under the pretext that she, thank goodness, was not yet reduced to feeding on things which others had messed about.

From that time Gervaise took no more presents to the Boches--nothing.

Now the Boches seemed to think that Gervaise was stealing something which was rightfully theirs.

Gervaise saw that she had made a mistake.