AI-Generated Graded Readers Masaru Uchida, Gifu University Publication webpage: https://www1.gifu-u.ac.jp/~masaru/a1/ai-generated_graded_readers.html Publication date: August 5, 2026 About This Edition This book is a simplified English adaptation created for extensive reading practice. The text was generated using ChatGPT and prepared for intermediate English learners as part of an educational project. Target reading level: CEFR A2-B1 This edition aims to support fluency development through accessible vocabulary, expanded narration, and improved readability while preserving the original story structure. Content Note This adaptation is based on a historical literary work. It may contain expressions, attitudes, or depictions that some readers may consider inappropriate or offensive by today’s standards. Such elements have been retained or reflected where necessary in order to preserve the historical and literary character of the original work. Source Text Original work: The Ladies’ Paradise Author: Émile Zola English Translation: Ernest Alfred Vizetelly Source: Project Gutenberg https://www.gutenberg.org/ Full text available at: https://www.gutenberg.org/cache/epub/54726/pg54726.txt Both the original work and its English translation are in the public domain. Copyright and Use This simplified edition is intended for educational and non-commercial use only. The source text is provided by Project Gutenberg under its public domain policy. Users should refer to the Project Gutenberg License for full terms: https://www.gutenberg.org/policy/license.html This adaptation was generated with the assistance of artificial intelligence and edited for readability and educational purposes. Disclaimer This edition is an educational adaptation and is not affiliated with or endorsed by Project Gutenberg.

Émile Zola, The Ladies’ Paradise [Au Bonheur des Dames] (Simplified Edition, Adapted and Simplified by ChatGPT)

Part 1 — A New World in Paris

　　Denise walked from Saint-Lazare Station with her two brothers, Jean and Pépé. They had spent the whole night on hard seats in a third-class train from Normandy, and all three were tired. Denise was twenty years old, Jean was sixteen, and little Pépé was only five. Their mother and father were both dead, so Denise had become almost like a mother to her brothers. They wore old black clothes because they were still in mourning for their father. Paris was much bigger than they had imagined, and they often had to stop and ask people how to find the Rue de la Michodière, where their uncle Baudu lived.
　　At last they came into the Place Gaillon, and Denise suddenly stopped. “Jean, look!” she said. In front of them was a huge shop full of light and colour. Its name was The Ladies’ Paradise. It covered several buildings, and its large glass windows seemed to go on and on along the street. Denise had worked for two years in a clothes shop in Valognes, but she had never seen anything like this. She forgot her tiredness and even forgot, for a moment, that she was looking for her uncle.
　　The shop was only beginning its day, but the workers were already busy. Men were putting woollen goods outside the door, and another worker was carefully arranging blue silk in a window. Near the entrance were great piles of cheap goods with large white price cards. There were gloves, scarves, warm clothes, pieces of cloth, and many other things. Some goods were so cheap that Denise could hardly believe the prices. The shop seemed too full for its own walls, as if its goods were flowing out into the street.
　　Denise and her brothers slowly walked along the windows. One display had umbrellas above rows of silk stockings and gloves. Another was filled with silk, satin, and velvet in many colours. Two special kinds of silk, called Paris Delight and Golden Grain, were shown in large piles. Denise knew cloth well because of her work in Valognes, and the price of the Paris Delight surprised her. Then she saw the window for women’s coats, which interested her even more because she had worked in that department before. There were cheap coats and very expensive coats, and mirrors made them seem to fill the whole window.
　　Jean had been getting tired of looking at cloth, but even he stopped in front of the coats. Pépé also stared through the glass with wide eyes. Then Denise remembered why they were there. They asked the way again and found that the Rue de la Michodière was very close. When they turned around, they saw an old green sign directly across from The Ladies’ Paradise. It said: THE OLD ELBEUF — CLOTHS AND FLANNELS — BAUDU. Below the sign stood a heavy man with grey hair who had been watching them angrily.
　　The difference between the two shops shocked Denise. The Ladies’ Paradise was bright, wide, and full of colour, but the Old Elbeuf looked dark and tired. Its windows were dusty, and the cloth inside could hardly be seen. The doorway seemed to lead down into a damp cellar. Denise began to feel nervous because she had not written to tell her uncle that they were coming. Almost a year earlier, after the death of her parents, Baudu had told her that she could come to Paris if she ever needed help. She had trusted those words and had left Valognes with the boys.
　　Denise went to the grey-haired man. “Are you Monsieur Baudu?” she asked. When he said yes, she smiled nervously and told him who they were. Baudu stared at them in surprise because he had not expected them at all. Denise explained that their father had lost all his money in his business before he died. She could not earn enough in Valognes to support herself and the two boys, but Jean had now found a place with an ivory worker in Paris. He would start the next day and would receive food and a place to sleep, so Denise hoped that she and Pépé could somehow manage.
　　Baudu was still unhappy about their sudden arrival, but he asked them to come inside. He called his wife, Elizabeth, and his daughter, Geneviève. Madame Baudu was a small, weak-looking woman, and Geneviève was also very pale and thin, although she had beautiful thick black hair. They welcomed Denise and gave her a seat behind the counter. As Denise’s eyes became used to the darkness, she saw the low ceiling, the old wooden counters, and the many drawers along the walls. The air smelled of wool, dye, and damp wood, and the dark pieces of cloth reached almost to the ceiling.
　　Then Baudu told Denise the truth. Business had become much worse during the past year, and he had already reduced the number of workers in the shop. “I cannot give you a job now,” he said. Denise went pale, but she answered quietly that she would find another way. Baudu became angry, partly because he felt bad about disappointing her, and said that she should have written before coming. Tears came into Denise’s eyes, and she held Pépé close. When she said that they would leave, Baudu quickly told her that he was not sending them away and that they could stay there for the night.
　　The family then began to make practical plans. Jean would go to his new master the next day. Pépé could stay with Madame Gras, a woman nearby who looked after young children, and Denise had enough money to pay her for the first month. The only real problem was Denise herself. Geneviève remembered that a silk seller named Vinçard might need a saleswoman. Baudu agreed to take Denise there after lunch, and for the first time that morning she felt that there might still be some hope.
　　At lunch Denise met Colomban, Baudu’s senior assistant. He had worked in the Old Elbeuf for ten years, and Baudu planned for him to marry Geneviève and one day take over the business. The small dining room behind the shop was almost as dark as the shop itself. Its single window looked into a wet little yard, and very little daylight came inside. Baudu carefully divided the food between everyone and spoke about the future as if the old family system would continue forever. Denise noticed that Geneviève looked at Colomban with deep feeling, while Colomban seemed much calmer about their planned marriage.
　　After lunch Denise returned to the front of the shop and waited for her uncle. Pépé played near her feet, while Jean stood at the door and watched the people outside. Very few customers entered the Old Elbeuf. First one woman came in, and later two more appeared. The shop remained quiet, dark, and full of its old smell. To Denise, it seemed that the simple and honest business of the past was sitting there alone, almost crying because the world had left it behind.
　　But across the street The Ladies’ Paradise was now fully awake. The sky was grey, and the air was soft and warm for the time of year, with rain in it. Through the open door Denise could see the bright windows of the great store. Women were standing close to the glass and looking at the goods with hungry eyes. The cloth, lace, coats, and other things almost seemed alive because of all the movement around them. The quiet windows that Denise had seen early that morning were now part of a living place full of people and energy.
　　The strongest feeling came from the sales taking place inside. Even from across the street, Denise could feel the crowds at the counters. The whole store seemed like a huge machine working without rest. Women entered, were pushed together in front of mountains of goods, chose what they wanted, and then moved toward the cash desks. Yet there was order inside all this movement. Everything seemed controlled and planned, as if thousands of women were passing through the wheels of one enormous machine.
　　Denise could not stop looking. In one hour, more customers entered The Ladies’ Paradise than she had seen in six months at the shop where she had worked in Valognes. The great store attracted her, but it also frightened her a little, and this made it even more exciting. Behind her was the cold, dark Old Elbeuf, with almost no customers. In front of her was light, movement, work, and life. Denise felt guilty about the thought, but as a saleswoman she wanted to be close to that energy.
　　“They certainly have plenty of customers,” she said at last. She immediately wished she had kept quiet. Madame Baudu looked across the street with sad eyes, and Geneviève watched Colomban, who was looking at the young women working in the coat department of The Ladies’ Paradise. Baudu looked at the great shop with anger. “A bright shop is not always a good shop,” he said. Then he turned away from the sight of his powerful neighbour and told Denise that it was time to go. Vinçard might still have a job for her, and they should ask him before someone else took it.


Part 2 — The Old Shops Fight Back

　　Baudu took Denise to Vinçard’s silk shop, only a short walk away. The shop was clean and bright, but it was small and did not have many goods. When they entered, Vinçard was talking with two men, so Baudu and Denise waited near the door. Baudu quietly told her that the thin man was Robineau, who worked in the silk department at The Ladies’ Paradise. The other man was Gaujean, a silk maker from Lyons, and Denise soon understood that they were discussing the future of Vinçard’s business.
　　Vinçard wanted Robineau to buy his shop. He said the business was very good, but he also complained that pain in his body made it difficult for him to continue working. Robineau did not fully believe him because he knew how badly the small shops were suffering. Another silk shop near The Ladies’ Paradise had already failed. Gaujean blamed the great department stores for this problem and said that a few very large businesses were beginning to control the whole market. He believed that small specialist shops had to fight back, and he offered Robineau generous credit if he decided to become independent.
　　Gaujean also reminded Robineau that The Ladies’ Paradise had treated him badly. Robineau had worked there for years and had expected to receive an important position, but Bouthemont had been given the job instead. Robineau was still angry about this, yet he was afraid to risk his wife’s money. She had inherited sixty thousand francs, and he did not want to lose it in a weak business. He therefore told Vinçard that he needed more time to think. Denise listened quietly, without knowing that this discussion was the beginning of a much larger fight.
　　At last Baudu explained why he had come. Denise had worked for two years in a shop in Valognes, and he hoped that Vinçard still needed a saleswoman. Vinçard looked very sorry and said that he had hired someone only two hours earlier. Denise’s heart fell because another possible job had disappeared. Then Robineau looked at her poor clothes and tired face and said, “They need a young woman in the coat department at The Ladies’ Paradise.” Baudu immediately cried, “There? No!” before he could control himself.
　　Denise became red with embarrassment, but the idea also excited her. Robineau told her that there was no reason not to try. She could ask for Madame Aurélie, the head of the coat department, and the worst answer could only be no. Baudu finally said that the choice belonged to Denise, although it was clear that he hated the idea. Denise wanted to ask Robineau more questions, but she was too shy. She simply thanked him, and then she followed her uncle back toward the Rue de la Michodière.
　　Near the Old Elbeuf, an old man called Bourras stopped Baudu. Bourras sold umbrellas and walking sticks in a tiny old shop beside The Ladies’ Paradise. His building was narrow, cracked, and so weak that it seemed to stand only because the houses around it supported it. Bourras told Baudu that Mouret had offered to buy the building from its owner. The old man’s eyes became fierce as he spoke. “He can buy the building if he wants, but my lease has twelve more years, and while I am alive he will not touch one stone of my shop.”
　　Baudu understood that this was another battle with The Ladies’ Paradise. He could only shake his head and tell Bourras that they had to be ready for anything. Back at the Old Elbeuf, Madame Baudu reported that Madame Gras could take care of Pépé whenever Denise was ready. Jean had disappeared for a time to look at Paris, which made Denise worry, but he soon returned. Their box had also arrived from the station, and the family decided that Denise and her brothers could sleep in the attic that night. For the moment, at least, they had a roof over their heads.
　　At dinner, Baudu told everyone about the possible job at The Ladies’ Paradise. The whole family reacted badly, and soon they began talking angrily about the great store across the street. Baudu told Denise about its owner, Octave Mouret. Mouret had married Madame Hédouin, who had owned part of the store, and after her death he had finally become the only owner. Madame Baudu said that Madame Hédouin had died after falling during building work at the store. To her, even the walls of the Paradise seemed connected with death.
　　Baudu cared less about such stories and wanted to explain the business problem. Under Mouret, The Ladies’ Paradise had bought one building after another and had grown quickly. Baudu believed Mouret had spent too much money on new buildings, goods, and advertising. He hoped that the great store would fail because it was growing too fast. If that happened, Baudu thought, the old kind of business would become strong again. But his angry words could not hide his fear that the opposite was happening.
　　“Think about it, Denise,” he said. “You know this business too. Does it make sense for one clothes shop to start selling everything? In the old days, a shop like that sold cloth, and that was all. Now these big stores want to take every kind of business from the shops around them. They want everything for themselves, and the small shops are already suffering badly.”
　　Baudu began naming people Denise had never met. “Bédoré and his sister have a stocking shop in the Rue Gaillon, and they have already lost half their customers. Mademoiselle Tatin sells women’s underwear in the Passage Choiseul, and now she has to lower her prices just to keep selling. The fur sellers are having trouble too. And they even sell gloves now. What will be left for the people who have spent their whole lives learning one trade?”
　　Madame Baudu added that a local glove seller already looked worried whenever she passed his shop. Then Baudu spoke about umbrellas and pointed toward Bourras’s little business. To him, it was almost crazy that a cloth shop should sell umbrellas too. The Paradise was no longer simply competing with shops like his own. It was entering one trade after another, taking customers from everyone around it. Baudu dreamed of the small traders joining together against the giant store, but even he did not really know how they could stop it.
　　He still tried to believe that the Old Elbeuf was safe. The Paradise mainly sold women’s cloth and materials for dresses and coats, while Baudu still had men’s cloth, flannel, velvet, and other special goods. He was proud that his shop had existed for nearly a hundred years. He did not believe in bright displays, mountains of cheap goods, or huge signs to attract people from the street. “Our customers know us,” Geneviève said softly, trying to give him hope. She reminded her father that several old customers had still visited that day.
　　Madame Baudu remembered when The Ladies’ Paradise had been a tiny shop with only one small window. At that time the Old Elbeuf had already been an old and respected business. Year after year she had watched the other shop grow until it became larger, richer, and more powerful than everything around it. The change hurt her deeply because the Old Elbeuf was not only a business to her. She had spent her whole life there, and every dark room and damp wall was part of her home. She seemed to feel that if the shop died, part of her own life would die with it.
　　At last Baudu stopped talking. He told Denise again that she was free to make her own choice and that he would not order her to stay away from The Ladies’ Paradise. But all the terrible stories had not frightened Denise away. In fact, they had made her more interested in the great store. Something powerful was changing the world of business across the street, and she wanted to understand it. She only answered, “I will think about it.”
　　Evening came, and a cold rain began to fall over Paris. The Old Elbeuf became darker and sadder, while across the street The Ladies’ Paradise shone under rows of gas lights. Workers were still folding goods, and cashiers were counting the day’s money. Through the wet windows the huge store looked almost like a factory full of fire and movement. Denise stood near the door and imagined herself working there, earning enough money to care for Jean and Pépé. The store frightened her, but it also seemed to offer the life and hope that she needed.
　　Then she saw old Bourras standing outside in the rain, staring at the Paradise’s window of umbrellas. Water ran down his uncovered head, but he did not move. Behind Denise, the Baudus were also looking across the street, unable to turn away from the store they hated. Madame Baudu began to cry, and Geneviève noticed that Colomban was watching the young women who worked inside the Paradise. Baudu finally asked Denise, “You will go there tomorrow, won’t you?” Denise hesitated and then answered quietly, “Yes, uncle, if it does not hurt you too much.”


Part 3 — Mouret’s Commercial Machine

　　The next morning, Denise came to The Ladies’ Paradise before eight o’clock. She wanted to ask about the job before taking Jean to his new master, but she had arrived too early. Men who worked in the store were still coming from every street around the Place Gaillon. Many walked quickly with their hands in their pockets because the morning was cold. Denise became nervous when some of them looked at her, so she walked around the square instead of going inside.
　　Another young man was also waiting near the store. He was tall, pale, and as nervous as Denise, and at last he asked if she worked there. Denise told him that she was also looking for a job. For a moment they looked at each other with the same worried expression, but neither knew what else to say. They moved apart again and continued waiting. Denise felt a little less alone because someone else was just as frightened as she was.
　　Then a well-dressed young man crossed the square toward the store. All the employees greeted him, so Denise thought he must be an important manager. He looked at her for a moment as he passed, and his eyes made her feel even more nervous. She did not know that he was Octave Mouret himself, the owner of The Ladies’ Paradise. Mouret had spent the night away from home, but after washing and changing his clothes he entered his office looking fresh and ready for work. Within minutes he had forgotten the night before and was thinking only about business.
　　Bourdoncle soon joined him. He was one of Mouret’s most important assistants and helped him control the enormous store. Unlike Mouret, Bourdoncle did not trust women and often laughed at the female customers who spent too much money. Mouret enjoyed women and knew how to charm them, both in private life and in business. Bourdoncle warned him that one day a woman might defeat him. Mouret laughed because he was sure that no woman could ever have such power over him.
　　Their attention then turned to the great winter sale that would begin on Monday. The store already had nineteen departments and more than four hundred employees, but Mouret said it was still too small. Bourdoncle was worried because enormous amounts of money had gone into new buildings and new goods. Almost all the available capital was now inside the store, and the coming sale had to be successful. Mouret did not share his fear. He believed that if he made the store larger and more exciting, more women would come and spend more money.
　　Mouret also had new ideas for controlling his employees. Salespeople received money for each article they sold, so they had a reason to sell as much as possible. Mouret even wanted clerks who checked the accounts to receive extra money whenever they found a mistake. In this way, every worker would watch the others and work harder for personal gain. Competition between employees was not an accident in Mouret’s system. He wanted them to fight for sales because the store would make more money from their struggle.
　　Mouret and Bourdoncle went down into the basement to inspect the goods for Monday’s sale. Large boxes and heavy packages entered through a receiving area beside the street and rushed down a strong wooden and iron slide. Silk from Lyons, wool from England, linen, cotton, and printed cloth poured into the basement. Workers opened the boxes, checked the goods, and carried them to different counters. Mouret watched the endless flow with shining eyes. Every package represented money, and his task was to sell this mountain of goods as quickly as possible.
　　In the silk area they found Bouthemont checking a new delivery. He was the manager of the silk department and an excellent buyer who often travelled to Lyons to deal with manufacturers. One of the new silks was the Paris Delight, the blue-and-silver material that Denise had admired in the window on her first morning in Paris. Mouret planned to make it the great attraction of the coming sale. The price would be five francs and twelve sous, almost the same amount that the store had paid for it. Bourdoncle immediately saw the danger.
　　“At that price, we will make almost nothing,” Bourdoncle said. “When we include our other costs, we may even lose money.” Mouret struck the silk with his hand and answered with excitement. “That is exactly why I want this price. Women will come here for this silk because they will think it is an amazing bargain.” Bouthemont smiled, but Bourdoncle remained worried because the more Paris Delight they sold, the more money they might lose.
　　Mouret did not care about that small loss. “Yes, perhaps we will lose a little money on this one thing,” he said. “But think about what happens next. If we bring all the women into our store, they will see mountains of other goods around them. They will become excited, they will want more things, and they will spend money without carefully counting it. What matters is bringing them here and making them want to buy.”
　　He explained that one famous cheap product could change the way customers saw the whole store. After buying Paris Delight at an unusually low price, a woman might believe that everything else in The Ladies’ Paradise was also cheaper. She could then buy another silk at the normal price, or a coat, gloves, or many other things. The profit from those other goods would pay for the loss on the Paris Delight. Mouret wanted women all over France to talk about the blue-and-silver silk. He hoped it would become so famous that customers would come to the store simply because they had heard about it.
　　Bouthemont told Mouret that the silk makers in Lyons were already angry about these low prices. Gaujean in particular believed that the great stores were forcing manufacturers to accept prices that were too low. Mouret was not worried. The Paradise paid quickly and bought enormous amounts, so he believed manufacturers should be able to produce more cheaply for him. If Gaujean refused to work with the new system, Mouret thought another manufacturer would take his place. To him, the old way of doing business had to change.
　　Mouret and Bourdoncle continued through the basement. Dark storage rooms held extra goods for every department, while other rooms contained kitchens, dining areas, heating equipment, and the machinery needed to keep the huge building working. At the far end was the delivery department. Goods bought by customers were sorted according to the part of Paris where they had to go. Workers then carried the parcels upstairs and loaded them into delivery vans. Goods entered the building in one place, passed through the sales departments, and left from another, as if the whole store were one great machine.
　　Mouret stopped to ask why some sheets bought the day before had not reached Madame Desforges. He remembered the customer, the order, and where she lived. The workers discovered that someone had written the wrong number on the parcel, so it had come back instead of reaching her home. Bourdoncle was impressed that Mouret noticed such small details while also planning the future of the entire business. Mouret immediately wanted to know who had made the mistake. He could dream about millions, but he also watched individual parcels.
　　Before inspecting the sales floors, Mouret went upstairs to the mail-order department. Orders from outside Paris and from foreign countries all came to these rooms. Two years earlier, only about twelve clerks had been needed there, but now more than thirty people worked in the department. Some opened letters, some read them, and others gave each order a number. The orders then went to the correct departments, where the requested goods were collected and brought back for checking and packing.
　　The room was already full of the sound of paper and busy hands. Mouret asked the head clerk how many letters had arrived that morning. “Five hundred and thirty-four,” the man answered. He warned that after Monday’s sale began, they might need more workers because the number of orders was growing so quickly. Mouret looked around and saw that the department was working well. “If you need more people, you can have them,” he said.
　　Every order that arrived in the morning was supposed to leave the store that same evening. Workers packed the goods into boxes and tied them carefully before sending them across France or to other countries. A woman did not need to live in Paris or even visit the store to become a customer of The Ladies’ Paradise. The great commercial machine was already reaching far beyond the streets around the Old Elbeuf. While Denise was still outside trying to find the courage to ask for one small job, Mouret’s store was learning how to sell to women hundreds of kilometres away.


Part 4 — Denise Gets the Job

　　After leaving the mail-order department, Mouret and Bourdoncle continued through the store. They passed the cash offices, where money from the different sales desks was collected and checked. They also stopped at a desk where a young cashier named Albert Lhomme had made a mistake with a customer’s address. Bourdoncle spoke to him sharply, while Mouret stayed friendly and let his assistant do the unpleasant work. This was often their way of managing the staff: Bourdoncle created fear, while Mouret tried to remain popular.
　　They then walked through the different sales departments. The store was still quiet because most customers had not yet arrived, but the employees were preparing for the day. Some removed covers from piles of cloth, while others arranged goods on the counters. Bourdoncle quickly noticed workers who were late, tired, smoking, or not doing their jobs properly. One man was even dismissed after speaking rudely to an inspector. Denise had not yet started working there, but the store already showed how easily a worker could lose a job.
　　In the silk department, Mouret stopped beside a young salesman named Hutin. Hutin was arranging pieces of silk carefully, putting colours together in a pleasant order. Mouret did not like this calm and beautiful display. He took red, green, and yellow silks and threw them together in a strong group of colours. “Don’t make it too quiet,” he said. “Make the customers look.” He wanted the displays to surprise women and make them feel excited as soon as they entered.
　　At that moment Denise finally came into the store. She had spent almost an hour outside because she was too frightened to enter, but at last she had forced herself through the door. Once inside, she became even more confused. She asked several employees where she could find Madame Aurélie, but she misunderstood their directions and kept turning the wrong way. For ten minutes she wandered through one department after another, feeling smaller and smaller inside the enormous building.
　　The store seemed like a whole city to her. There were wide halls, stairs, counters, and different areas going in every direction. The Old Elbeuf had been so narrow that a person could see almost everything from one place, but here Denise could not even understand where she was. She wanted to run outside, yet every new display made her stop and look. When she entered the great central hall, she saw the silk arrangement that Mouret had just made and forgot her fear for a moment.
　　The colours seemed to burn in front of her. Mouret noticed her face and was pleased because her surprise showed that his display had worked. Denise then saw him and remembered the young man who had looked at her outside that morning. She still believed he was only an important manager, but his presence made her nervous. She asked a salesman named Favier where Madame Aurélie was, and he answered coldly, “First floor.” Denise thanked him and almost walked in the wrong direction again.
　　Hutin stopped her. A few minutes earlier he had laughed at her poor appearance with another salesman, but now he gave her his warmest professional smile. “This way,” he said, and he walked with her to the stairs. He explained that she should go up and turn left to find the coat department. Denise was deeply grateful because he was the first person inside the store who had treated her kindly.
　　She went upstairs and entered a large room surrounded by tall cupboards. Several saleswomen in silk dresses were working there, and Denise immediately became aware of her own old black dress and worn shoes. She asked for Madame Aurélie, but the women looked at her without much interest. Clara Prunaire and Marguerite Vadon soon understood that Denise was asking for the open position. They quietly examined her clothes and whispered about how poor she looked.
　　Denise heard enough to understand that they were making fun of her, but she tried not to react. She stood near a window because nobody had invited her to sit down. From there she could see the Old Elbeuf across the street. It looked smaller, darker, and poorer than ever when seen from inside the bright Paradise. Denise felt a sudden pain because her uncle’s shop seemed almost helpless from this new position.
　　Then Madame Aurélie arrived. She was a large woman of about forty-five, dressed in black silk, and she moved with the confidence of someone who expected to be obeyed. She was the head of the coat department and earned a very good income there. The other women became more careful as soon as she appeared. Denise waited while Madame Aurélie dealt sharply with a problem about a coat pattern, and this made the young girl even more afraid to speak.
　　At last Madame Aurélie noticed her. Denise explained that she wanted the open sales position, but her voice was so weak that she had to repeat herself. “How old are you?” Madame Aurélie asked. “Twenty,” Denise answered. The woman looked surprised and said that Denise did not look more than sixteen, and the other saleswomen turned to look at her again. “I am stronger than I look,” Denise said quickly.
　　Madame Aurélie agreed to write down her name, but she already had ten people asking for the same job. Then Mouret and Bourdoncle entered the department during their inspection of the store. Mouret recognized Denise at once and asked why she was there. When Madame Aurélie explained that the girl wanted to become a saleswoman, Bourdoncle looked at Denise with open doubt. To him she seemed too thin, too badly dressed, and not attractive enough for the Paradise.
　　Madame Aurélie continued the interview. Denise gave her full name and explained that she had only just arrived from Valognes. This was another problem because the Paradise usually preferred women who already had experience in Paris shops. Denise felt her hope disappearing, but she thought of Jean and Pépé and forced herself to remain. When Madame Aurélie asked where she had worked before, Denise answered, “At Cornaille’s.”
　　Mouret knew the name. “That is a good shop,” he said. Denise then showed them the paper from her former employer, which gave her an excellent report. Madame Aurélie’s manner became less cold. When she asked why Denise had left Valognes, Denise explained that her parents had died and that she had come to Paris because of her brothers. Her simple answer made it clear that she was not looking for adventure; she needed work because other people depended on her.
　　Then came the question that Denise had feared. “Where are you living in Paris?” Madame Aurélie asked. Denise hesitated before admitting that she was staying with her uncle, Baudu, directly across the street. Mouret was surprised. “You are Baudu’s niece?” he asked. “Did he send you here?” The idea was so impossible that Denise suddenly laughed and answered, “Oh, no, sir!”
　　Her whole face changed when she laughed. Until then Mouret had mainly seen a thin, frightened country girl in poor clothes, but now her eyes became bright and her cheeks came alive. He quietly told Bourdoncle that she was actually pretty, though Bourdoncle refused to agree. Madame Aurélie also became more interested in her. Mouret said that Baudu’s anger against the Paradise should not be held against his niece and that the new kind of business was not Denise’s fault.
　　Only then did Denise understand that the young man standing beside her was Mouret himself. The stories her uncle had told her returned to her mind, and she felt almost afraid. This was the man who controlled the great machine that had fascinated her since she came to Paris. Madame Aurélie told her that the store would check her references and then write to her, so Denise could do nothing more. She thanked everyone and slowly went downstairs, unsure whether she had succeeded or failed.
　　Outside the store, the nervous young man from that morning spoke to her again. He had also finished his interview and looked as confused as she felt. He was trying for a position in the lace department, and neither of them knew whether they would be accepted. This time they told each other their names. “I am Henri Deloche,” he said, and when Denise gave him her name, they smiled and shook hands like two people facing the same difficult future. “Good luck,” Deloche said. “Good luck,” Denise answered.


Part 5 — How to Sell Everything

　　Every Saturday afternoon, Madame Desforges received friends in her comfortable home near the Tuileries Gardens. Mouret came that day because she had promised to introduce him to Baron Hartmann, an important banker. Mouret needed Hartmann because he wanted to make The Ladies’ Paradise much larger. Madame Desforges was also Mouret’s lover, and she was becoming deeply attached to him. She did not fully understand that business was one reason why he had become so interested in her friendship.
　　Several women were already drinking tea in the drawing room. Madame Bourdelais was a practical woman who carefully managed her home and three children. Madame Guibal was tall and calm and often seemed interested in nothing. Madame de Boves was a beautiful woman from an important family, but she did not have much money to spend. Her daughter Blanche was with her, and soon Madame Marty arrived carrying a red leather bag filled with things she had just bought at The Ladies’ Paradise.
　　Madame Marty loved buying beautiful things and found it very hard to stop herself. Her husband was a teacher and earned six thousand francs a year, but that was not enough for the family’s growing expenses. He therefore gave private lessons after his normal work in order to earn more money. Madame Marty still spent freely on clothes and other fashionable things for herself and her daughter. She knew that she often bought too much, but when she entered a shop full of attractive goods, her good sense seemed to disappear.
　　As the women talked, their different ways of shopping became clear. Madame Marty bought almost anything that attracted her eye, often without thinking about whether she needed it. Madame Guibal could walk around The Ladies’ Paradise for hours without buying anything and still feel happy because she enjoyed simply looking. Madame de Boves wanted many beautiful things but could not afford them, and this made her angry with the goods she could not possess. Madame Bourdelais was completely different: she looked for real bargains, waited for the right prices, and often used the great store to save money.
　　The women asked Mouret about the great sale that would begin on Monday. They had already read advertisements for Paris Delight, the new silk that was being sold for only five francs sixty. For days they had talked about it and wondered whether it could really be good at such a low price. Mouret told them that the Paradise had bought the exclusive right to sell it. He also mentioned other silks, velvet, wool, and cloth until all the women began thinking about things they might buy.
　　Madame Bourdelais remained careful. She knew that certain goods became even cheaper on particular days, so she planned to wait before buying clothes for her children. The others were easier to excite. Mouret explained that even expensive dressmakers bought some of their materials at The Ladies’ Paradise because its prices could be lower than the prices offered by manufacturers. He even told the women that the store would lose money on Paris Delight.
　　This idea immediately attracted them. If the store sold an article for less than it had paid, then the customer seemed to be winning a small battle against the seller. Mouret understood how powerful this feeling could be. A woman might enter only because she wanted one famous bargain. Once she was inside, however, she would see hundreds of other things, and the store could earn back the money it had lost on the cheap article.
　　Madame Marty could no longer keep her purchases hidden. She opened her red bag and proudly showed the other women some narrow lace that she had bought for her daughter. Then she took out a fine handkerchief, a lace neck decoration, and a veil. With each new object she became more excited. At last Madame Bourdelais asked what she planned to do with another long piece of lace, and Madame Marty admitted that she did not know. “But the design was so pretty,” she said.
　　Then Madame Marty raised her eyes and saw her husband standing in front of her. Monsieur Marty had entered quietly, and his face was pale with fear. Every piece of lace represented hours of his work: long days teaching at school and more hours travelling across Paris to give private lessons. He worked hard to bring money into the home, but it seemed to melt away as quickly as he earned it. Looking at his wife’s new purchases, he could already imagine more bills, more work, and more worry.
　　Madame Marty quickly tried to hide some of the things. She laughed nervously and said that she had actually been very sensible because she had not bought a beautiful lace decoration that cost five hundred francs. Madame Guibal calmly asked why she had not bought it, since her husband was surely generous. Monsieur Marty was too polite and weak to protest in front of everyone, so he said that his wife was free to buy what she liked. But when Mouret spoke proudly about how modern stores made middle-class life more comfortable, the teacher looked at him with silent anger.
　　Baron Hartmann finally arrived, and Madame Desforges introduced him to Mouret. The two men moved to a quieter part of the room to talk about business. Mouret explained his dream of expanding The Ladies’ Paradise until it filled almost the whole block. A new street was going to be built nearby, and Hartmann’s company controlled important land around it. Mouret wanted the banker’s help in creating a much larger store, almost a palace of modern trade.
　　Hartmann was not convinced. He thought Mouret’s dream was exciting but perhaps too large and dangerous. Where, he asked, could Mouret find enough customers to fill such a huge building? Mouret pointed toward the women in the other room. They were talking excitedly about dresses, silk, lace, prices, and bargains. “There are my customers,” his gesture seemed to say. Then he began to explain why he believed modern retail could grow far beyond the old kind of shop.
　　The first secret was the fast movement of money. Mouret explained that a store did not need to make a large profit on each article if it could sell enormous amounts very quickly. His capital of about five hundred thousand francs had already been used to buy and sell goods four times in one year, creating sales of about two million francs. In the future he hoped that the same money could be turned over fifteen or twenty times in some departments. A small profit repeated again and again could finally become millions.
　　“The whole idea is simple,” Mouret explained. “We buy goods, sell them as quickly as we can, and use the money to buy new goods. Then we sell those too. Each time the money comes back to us with a little profit.” The Paradise could therefore accept a much smaller profit on each sale than an old small shop expected. Low prices brought more customers, more customers created more sales, and more sales allowed the prices to stay low.
　　Another secret was putting many different kinds of goods under one roof. A woman might enter because she needed cloth for a dress. While she was there, she could also buy thread, a coat, gloves, or something for her home. Then she might see something beautiful that she had never planned to buy at all. One department helped another because every purchase led the customer past more goods and gave her new ideas.
　　Mouret also praised the system of clear fixed prices. In old shops, prices were often less certain, and a seller might try to make a very large profit from one customer. At The Ladies’ Paradise, the price was written clearly on the goods, so anyone could compare it with prices in other shops. This created open competition and pushed prices down. The small shops hated this system because they could not easily survive on such small profits, but Mouret believed that large sales would make up for the low profit on each object.
　　Yet behind all these business ideas was a darker plan. Mouret understood that the great stores were fighting for women. Their windows first attracted women from the street, their bargains brought them through the doors, and the mountains of goods around them created new desires. A woman might begin with a sensible purchase, then buy something because it was fashionable, and finally spend money on beautiful things she had never needed. By making luxury available to more people, the great stores increased sales, but they could also make families spend far more than they could safely afford.
　　Hartmann watched Mouret among the women and slowly began to understand his power. The women surrounded him, asked about prices and new fashions, and listened closely to his answers. He seemed to know exactly what would excite each of them, while remaining calm himself. Hartmann still did not promise to support the expansion, but before Mouret left he agreed to study the idea. “If Monday’s sale is as successful as you expect,” he told him, “then we can talk again.” Mouret left pleased, knowing that the coming sale would decide not only how much his store could earn, but how large his commercial empire might become.


Part 6 — The Great Sale Begins

　　On Monday morning, October 10, the sky cleared after several days of rain. The Ladies’ Paradise was ready for its great winter sale. Flags moved above the entrance, and bright cloth hung outside in the fresh air. The windows were filled with colour, and large signs announced the special prices. Even before many customers arrived, people from the neighbourhood stopped in the street to look.
　　The small shopkeepers watched with anger. Baudu stood at the door of the Old Elbeuf and saw one of the Paradise’s new delivery vans leave the building. It was painted in bright colours, with the name of the store written clearly on its sides. Wherever the van went, it carried the name of The Ladies’ Paradise through Paris. To Baudu, even the delivery service seemed to be another form of advertising.
　　Inside the entrance, Mouret had created a special display of carpets from Turkey, Persia, India, and other eastern lands. They hung from the walls and ceiling and covered the floor in great rich groups. Some were expensive, but others were sold surprisingly cheaply because Mouret wanted the whole entrance to attract attention. Customers stopped as soon as they came through the doors. The entrance no longer looked like an ordinary shop but like a strange and beautiful room from another world.
　　Denise entered the store at eight o’clock for her first day of work. She was so surprised by the new carpet display that for a moment she wondered whether she had entered the right building. A worker took her upstairs to the rooms where some of the saleswomen lived. Her own room was very small, with a bed, a wardrobe, a table, and two chairs. Denise put away her old black wool dress and changed into the black silk uniform of the coat department.
　　She had never worn silk before. The dress was too large around her shoulders, and its soft noise embarrassed her as she walked downstairs. When she entered the coat department, Clara and Marguerite were already arguing about whose name should come first on the list of sales turns. The saleswomen wrote their names in order, and after serving a customer they moved their names to the bottom. Each good customer meant money, so even the order of names could cause a fight.
　　Madame Aurélie looked at Denise and immediately criticized her clothes and hair. She pulled the dress into a better shape and told Denise that she had to learn how women in Paris dressed themselves. Denise’s long fair hair was her greatest beauty, but she did not know how to arrange it in the fashionable style of the other saleswomen. Clara laughed at her, but Pauline Cugnot, a friendly young woman from the nearby underwear department, refused to join in. Denise remembered Pauline’s small act of kindness.
　　Madame Aurélie gave Denise a sales book and told her to learn the ways of the store. Denise had been accepted only as a beginner, without a fixed salary. Most of her income would depend on what she sold. She calculated that she needed about one hundred francs every month to pay for Pépé’s care, help Jean, and buy the few things she needed herself. To earn that much she would have to sell well, but she was already beginning to understand that the other women would not make this easy.
　　At first the morning was strangely quiet. The employees had prepared for a great battle, but very few customers entered the coat department. Denise waited nervously for her turn. She sharpened her pencil, watched the others, and tried to remember everything she had been told. Madame Aurélie walked around seriously, while some of the saleswomen began to wonder whether the great sale would fail.
　　At about eleven o’clock, a regular customer named Madame Boutarel arrived. She was about forty-five and lived far from Paris in the town of Albi. For months she saved small amounts of money at home, and when she came to Paris she went straight to The Ladies’ Paradise and spent much of what she had saved. She rarely ordered by mail because she wanted to see the goods with her own eyes and touch them with her own hands. She even bought simple things such as needles because they cost much more in her town.
　　Denise thought that Madame Boutarel would be her first important customer. She stepped forward, but Clara moved faster and took the woman from her. “It is my turn,” Denise protested. Madame Aurélie immediately stopped her and said that important regular customers were not for beginners. Denise had to move away while Clara began showing Madame Boutarel the coats.
　　Tears came into Denise’s eyes, but she turned toward the window so that no one would see them. Across the street stood the Old Elbeuf, dark and quiet. For a moment she wondered whether she had made a terrible mistake by leaving her uncle’s shop for this great, cold place. Jean and Pépé were now living away from her, and here nobody seemed to care whether she succeeded or failed. She felt completely alone.
　　Madame Aurélie soon became angry because Denise was standing near the window. “You cannot just stand there,” she told her. Since Denise was not allowed to serve the important customers, she was ordered to fold and put away the coats that other saleswomen had taken from the cupboards. Soon the counters were covered with coats, capes, and other clothes. Denise worked silently, folding one heavy article after another and carrying them back to their places.
　　Meanwhile, Mouret was walking through the store and becoming worried. The morning had not brought the crowds he expected. He had risked a great deal of money on the sale, and for a short time he began to imagine failure. Madame Boutarel even left the coat department without buying anything there. Mouret tried not to show his fear, but when he looked down from the upper floor, too many counters were still quiet and too many cashiers were sitting with nothing to do.
　　Bourdoncle also worried, which only made Mouret more angry. He told his assistant that everything would be fine and refused to listen to more doubts. Still, he remained near the upper stairs and watched the whole store below. There were customers in some departments, but the great machine had not yet reached the speed he wanted. For a man who usually believed completely in his own success, these minutes felt painfully long.
　　Then the situation slowly began to change. More carriages stopped outside. Women entered in larger groups, and the quiet lines at the counters became crowds. The wool department filled with customers touching different materials and carefully thinking about prices. In the silk hall, women took off their gloves so they could feel Paris Delight with their fingers. The sound of voices, footsteps, scissors, and money began to grow.
　　The salesmen also became more active. Hutin and Favier watched every woman who approached their department and tried to decide quickly whether she would spend money. Because they were paid extra for what they sold, a good customer could mean several francs in their own pockets. They did not want to waste time on women who only wanted to look or ask questions. The system made every customer part of a private competition between the employees.
　　By early afternoon, Mouret’s fear began to disappear. From his position above the central hall, he could see women moving into nearly every department. Cash desks were becoming busy, workers were tying parcels, and baskets filled with purchases were moving toward the delivery rooms below. The machine that had seemed cold and almost dead in the morning was now starting again. Mouret could almost feel its growing power under his feet.
　　Outside, more vehicles arrived, and inside, the air became warmer and louder. Women pressed around the famous Paris Delight, which had brought many of them to the store in the first place. Some had come only to see whether the advertisements were telling the truth, but once inside they began to look at other goods as well. The plan Mouret had explained to Bourdoncle was beginning to work. The cheap silk had opened the door, and the rest of the store was waiting for the customers who entered through it.


Part 7 — Women in the Machine

　　By afternoon, the store was full. In the wool department, women stood shoulder to shoulder, touching the cloth and thinking carefully about prices. Salesmen pulled heavy rolls down from the shelves until the counters almost disappeared under piles of material. Madame Desforges came there because she wanted to buy a strong, inexpensive dress for her cook. She asked to see many kinds before finally choosing one of the first materials the salesman had shown her.
　　Then Madame Desforges met Madame Marty and her daughter Valentine. Madame Marty had already been shopping for an hour and had several purchases following her through the store. She had promised her husband that she would be careful, but she was still looking for material for a new coat. Madame Desforges suggested that they go to the silk department to see the famous Paris Delight. Madame Marty hesitated only a moment before following her.
　　The silk hall was even more crowded. Mouret’s great display rose around one of the iron columns and seemed to pour down like a waterfall of silk and velvet. Light colours appeared above, stronger colours below, and heavy rich materials spread across the bottom. Women stood in front of it with shining eyes. Some seemed almost afraid of so much luxury, yet they could not turn away.
　　There they found Madame Bourdelais, who had come for one clear reason. She wanted to see whether Paris Delight was truly as good a bargain as the advertisements claimed. After examining it carefully, she bought twenty-five yards, enough for a dress for herself and a coat for her little daughter. Then she left because her family was waiting at home. She enjoyed the Paradise, but she did not allow the Paradise to control her.
　　Madame Boutarel was also still in the store. She had already spent several hours there and continued moving from department to department. Because she lived far from Paris, she wanted to make full use of every visit and buy many things before returning home. The employees knew that she was a valuable customer. A salesman who did not want to lose time with her might discover too late that another worker had made an excellent sale.
　　Around the Paris Delight, the crowd became especially strong. Salesmen measured and cut the silk as quickly as they could, while women reached forward to touch it. Madame Marty examined the material with some disappointment because the advertisements had made her imagine something even richer. Still, the low price continued to attract her. A silk sold at such a famous bargain seemed difficult to refuse.
　　Madame Guibal then appeared. She had already spent about an hour walking through the store, enjoying everything she saw but buying almost nothing. She joined the other women, talked about the crowds and the beautiful displays, and then calmly continued her walk. She seemed perfectly satisfied simply to look. The Paradise gave her pleasure without taking much money from her purse.
　　Madame Marty finally decided not to buy the silk for her coat. Madame Desforges suggested that a ready-made coat might cost less, so they asked to be taken upstairs. Hutin, who had hoped to earn a good commission from them, was furious inside, but he kept smiling. He had spent time showing them silk and had made almost no money from it. Still, he had to carry Madame Marty’s earlier purchases and guide the women through the crowd.
　　Reaching the stairs was difficult. Customers filled the central hall so completely that people could move only slowly. Salesmen passed women from one department to another, and everywhere money changed hands. The cash desks rang with coins, workers carried parcels away, and voices repeated the same questions and prices again and again. The store had become the great machine Mouret wanted, and now it was running at full speed.
　　Upstairs, the women met Madame de Boves and Blanche in the lace department. Madame de Boves had very little money with her, but she had asked Deloche to show her many kinds of lace. She touched one piece after another and kept asking for more, though she could not afford them. Her fingers trembled with desire as she handled the beautiful goods. For her, looking was not peaceful pleasure like it was for Madame Guibal; it was painful because she wanted to own what she saw.
　　Deloche was too new and too gentle to stop her. He continued opening boxes while Madame de Boves buried her hands in the growing mountain of lace. Inspector Jouve passed behind her and looked closely at her movements because small expensive articles were easy to hide. Nothing happened then, but the moment showed how strongly the goods affected her. The Paradise was filling her mind with desires that her money could not satisfy.
　　At last Madame Marty and Madame Desforges reached the coat department. Hutin saw Denise clearing away a huge pile of clothes and told her to serve them. Denise was delighted because she believed he had once again helped her. She asked Madame Marty what kind of coat she wanted, but the customer did not know. Denise became confused because she still did not know the numbers and places of all the different models.
　　Madame Aurélie quickly noticed the problem. When Madame Desforges said that Denise seemed unable to find anything, Madame Aurélie told the young girl to stop serving them. Marguerite took her place and began showing the coats with much greater confidence. Denise stood nearby, tired and ashamed. She feared that her first day might also be her last.
　　Then Madame Aurélie ordered Denise to help in another way. A silk coat had to be shown to Madame Marty, and Denise was told to put it on so that the customers could see how it looked on a person. She obeyed and stood before the women like a shop model. Everyone examined the coat on her body, while Madame Aurélie complained that Denise was too thin to show it properly. Denise already felt weak from standing and carrying clothes all day, and now she felt that she herself had become another object in the store.
　　Mouret arrived with Bourdoncle and Vallagnosc while Denise was still wearing the coat. Madame Desforges looked at Denise’s badly fitting uniform and made an unkind remark. Mouret, pleased by Madame Desforges’s attention, joined in and said that Denise should arrange her hair better. The saleswomen laughed because the owner had laughed. Denise stood pale and silent while the people around her treated her appearance as entertainment.
　　The joke hurt her deeply. She had done nothing to these people, yet they laughed at her thin body, her clothes, and the long hair that she had tried so hard to control. She was especially hurt by Mouret because she remembered that he had helped her get the job. For a moment she felt completely alone in the great store. Then Pauline Cugnot quietly came near and told her not to show how much the insults hurt.
　　Pauline explained that the others had treated her badly too when she first arrived. “Be brave,” she told Denise. She offered her friendship, and Denise secretly pressed her hand. That small kindness gave Denise more comfort than all the beautiful things around her. She returned to folding the coats because she was afraid that even stopping to speak with a friend might bring another complaint.
　　By evening, the great sale was over. The departments looked as if a storm had passed through them: boxes were open, cloth lay everywhere, coats were piled together, and the famous Paris Delight had almost completely disappeared. The day’s sales reached more than eighty thousand francs, the highest amount the store had ever made in one day, and Mouret was full of triumph. But when Denise finally reached her small room upstairs, her feet and whole body were in pain. She changed back into her old wool dress, fell onto the bed, and cried for Jean, Pépé, and herself until she had no strength left.


Part 8 — A Hard Life Behind the Counters

　　The morning after the great sale, Madame Aurélie told Denise that Mouret wanted to see her. Denise immediately thought she was going to be dismissed. But she had woken very early and had spent a long time fixing her uniform and arranging her hair. When Mouret saw her, he stopped in the middle of his warning. She already looked much better than she had the day before.
　　Mouret told her that she must learn how the women of Paris dressed and behaved. He even tried to smooth part of her thick hair and told her to arrange it more carefully. Denise stood still, nervous because this man had complete power over her job. Mouret treated her almost like a child, but he was also becoming curious about her. There was something gentle and strong in her that he did not fully understand.
　　From that day Denise worked with all the courage she had. The physical pain was terrible during her first weeks. She carried heavy piles of coats until her back and shoulders hurt at night, and she had to stand almost all day. Her old shoes from Valognes were too heavy, and her feet became swollen and covered with painful blisters. Still, she continued working because Jean and Pépé depended on her.
　　The other women in her department made life harder. Clara and Marguerite laughed at her clothes, her shoes, and her country ways. When Denise began to show that she could become a good saleswoman, they tried to keep the best customers away from her. Madame Aurélie did little to protect her because Denise did not flatter her like some of the other women did. Denise therefore had to fight quietly for every small sale.
　　Money became her greatest worry. She still had almost no fixed income, and much of what she earned went directly to Pépé’s care. One evening Jean came running to the store and asked her for ten francs because he had again spent money while meeting a girl. Denise told him that she could not help him because she needed the money for Pépé and for a new pair of shoes. But when Jean looked ready to cry, she finally gave him the ten francs.
　　That small gift created a serious problem for her. Denise had almost nothing left, and Pépé’s payment was due. At night she repaired her own clothes, washed small things in the basin, and tried to make her broken shoes last longer. Her poverty was hidden by the black silk uniform she wore in the store. Customers saw a neat young saleswoman, but behind the uniform was a girl counting every coin.
　　The next day Denise had to model new coats for rich customers. She smiled and turned slowly while Madame Aurélie explained the shape and style of each coat. All the time, Denise was thinking about the money she still needed for Pépé. She remembered taking him for a walk the Sunday before and buying him a little food, a toy spade, and a ticket for a puppet show. Even that small happy afternoon now seemed expensive.
　　Pauline finally understood how poor Denise was. One night she secretly came into Denise’s little room and found her repairing her shoes beside a basin of washing. Pauline said that she had suffered in exactly the same way when she first came to Paris. She had arrived with almost no money and had washed her own clothes at night because she owned so few. Denise was deeply relieved to speak openly with someone who understood her life.
　　Denise told Pauline about Jean and Pépé and about the women who prevented her from making good sales. Pauline became angry on her behalf. She warned Denise not to trust Inspector Jouve simply because he sometimes acted kindly toward her. Then Pauline spoke very directly about another way that poor saleswomen sometimes found money. Some accepted help from men who became their lovers.
　　Pauline believed this was almost natural for a young woman who earned too little to live. She herself had known several men and was now seeing Baugé, a salesman at another large store. But Denise quietly refused the idea. “No,” she said again and again. She did not judge Pauline, but she felt that she could not live that way unless she truly cared about someone.
　　Pauline did not become angry. Instead, she lent Denise the six francs she still needed for Pépé and told her to repay it later. Their friendship became stronger after that night. Denise still remained lonely inside her own department, but she was no longer completely alone in the store. She had Pauline nearby, and Deloche also greeted her kindly whenever they met.
　　As the winter passed, Denise learned more about the private lives of the employees. Many young women had men waiting for them outside after work. Inside the store, there was little time for love because everyone was tired and busy fighting for sales. The employees were like parts of the same machine during business hours. Only after they left the store did they become young men and women again.
　　Denise also discovered a painful secret across the street. Colomban, who was supposed to marry Geneviève, often stood at the door of the Old Elbeuf and looked toward the Paradise. At first Denise did not know which woman he was watching. Then she realized that he was in love with Clara. Whenever Denise saw Geneviève’s pale face behind the windows of the Old Elbeuf, she felt deeply sorry for her.
　　Denise herself still believed that she was not in love. Yet Hutin’s presence affected her in a way she could not explain. She remembered how kind he had seemed when she first entered the store and how he had shown her the way upstairs. Sometimes she walked through the silk department even when she had no reason to be there. She told herself that she was only grateful to him, but her heart beat faster whenever she saw him.
　　By spring, Denise finally received a small fixed salary. She was able to buy a cheap new pair of boots, though Clara and Marguerite still laughed at her. When Madame Aurélie invited nearly all the women in the department to spend a Sunday in the country, she purposely left Denise out. Pauline saw how much this hurt her and invited Denise to come with her and Baugé to Joinville instead. Denise first refused, but the thought of fresh air, grass, trees, and open country became too strong.
　　The May morning was bright and warm. Denise wore her old black wool dress, which she had carefully repaired, while Pauline wore a much finer Sunday outfit. With Baugé they travelled to Joinville and walked beside the River Marne. Denise felt free for the first time in months. The heavy air and stone walls of The Ladies’ Paradise seemed far away, and she enjoyed the trees, water, and open sky.
　　Late in the day they saw Hutin in a boat with friends and two women. At dinner they met his group again in a crowded restaurant. One of the women with Hutin was a singer from a music hall, and he proudly showed her off to everyone. Denise suddenly became pale and could no longer eat. Only then did she begin to understand that her feelings for Hutin were much more than simple gratitude.
　　When Denise left the restaurant, Deloche joined her and walked beside her in the darkness. He finally told her that he loved her, but Denise could only offer him friendship. She began to cry, because she knew that if Hutin had spoken those same loving words, her answer might have been very different. Later that night, when she returned alone to the Paradise, she met Mouret on the stairs. He looked at her carefully and suddenly saw that the awkward country girl was becoming an attractive young woman; and for the first time the thought that another man might love her gave him a small, unexpected pain.


Part 9 — The Season of Dismissal

　　When the quiet summer season came, fear spread through The Ladies’ Paradise. July and August brought very few customers, so the store no longer needed all the people it had hired for the busy months. Mouret had encouraged department managers to employ extra workers during winter because he never wanted a customer to wait. Now he told the same managers to reduce their staff. In the end, almost one worker in three could be sent away.
　　Bourdoncle usually did the unpleasant work. He seemed able to find a reason to dismiss almost anyone. A salesman who sat down, answered back, arrived a few minutes late, or forgot to clean his shoes might suddenly hear the terrible words, “Go and get paid.” Sometimes Bourdoncle stood at the entrance with his watch and dismissed people who arrived only three minutes late. The remaining employees watched these events in silence because each person feared being next.
　　A few lucky workers received two weeks away without pay instead of losing their jobs. Most employees accepted this uncertain life because they had known nothing else. They moved from one Paris shop to another, sometimes leaving by choice and sometimes being dismissed. When business was good, the stores needed them; when business was bad, they became unnecessary. The great commercial machine simply removed the parts it did not need.
　　Every department talked about the latest dismissals. Employees counted the names almost as people counted deaths during an epidemic. Seven workers disappeared from the shawl and wool departments in a single week. One hungry saleswoman was dismissed after a customer complained that she smelled of garlic; she had only been eating some old pieces of bread at the counter because she had not had enough food. No explanation helped her, because in the Paradise the customer was always treated as right.
　　Denise believed that she was in great danger. She had little money saved, she still had to support Pépé and help Jean, and her relationship with the women in her department had become worse. At night she sometimes cried when she imagined herself suddenly sent into the street. She felt like one tiny piece inside an enormous machine that could crush her without even noticing. If Madame Aurélie had to choose someone to dismiss, Denise was sure that she would be the first.
　　The other saleswomen frightened her partly because they looked so confident. By spending every day with wealthy customers, many of them learned elegant ways of speaking, dressing, and moving. They seemed to belong to a new social group somewhere between ordinary working women and middle-class ladies. Yet much of this elegance was only on the surface. Their real education often came from newspapers, popular theatres, music halls, and the fashionable talk they heard around them.
　　Clara and Marguerite also began spreading a cruel story about Denise. They saw her with Pépé and decided that the little boy must secretly be her own child. When they noticed Jean waiting for her, they called him her working-class lover. Denise tried to explain that both boys were her brothers, but the women laughed and refused to believe her. Even Madame Aurélie’s cold attempt to stop the gossip sounded more like criticism than support.
　　Deloche heard the rumours and became furious. Since the evening at Joinville, he had accepted that Denise did not love him, but his friendship for her had become even stronger. He wanted to defend her, though he knew that an open fight might only cause more trouble for her. Denise herself finally stopped trying to answer the insults. She met them with a quiet, sad look and concentrated on the more serious problem of earning enough money.
　　Jean continued to write to her whenever he was in trouble. His long letters were full of dramatic stories about girls, angry fathers, jealous people, and money that he needed immediately. Denise believed many of these stories because she knew very little about such situations. Her salary and commission were not enough to meet all these demands. At last she asked Robineau whether he knew of any work she could do at night.
　　Robineau found her a small job making neckties. After finishing her long day at the Paradise, Denise worked from about nine at night until one in the morning. She could make six dozen neckties during those hours, though the candle itself took part of the small amount she earned. She accepted the loss of sleep because the extra money helped Jean. Then the woman who gave her the work suddenly went bankrupt and disappeared without paying Denise eighteen francs and six sous.
　　That lost money was a disaster. Denise already owed Pauline twelve francs and did not want to ask her friend for more. Then another desperate letter arrived from Jean, saying that he needed fifteen francs or something terrible would happen to him. Denise had no idea where she could find the money. She hoped Robineau might help recover the unpaid necktie money, but he had been away from the store on holiday.
　　At the same time, the dismissals continued. By July 20, Bourdoncle had already sent fifty employees away, and everyone expected more names to follow. Denise was almost too worried about Jean to think about her own danger. Pauline noticed her pale face and again offered help, but Denise refused because she did not want to increase her debt. Pauline then reminded her to be careful of Inspector Jouve, whose unusual kindness toward Denise had always made her suspicious.
　　Jouve was feared throughout the store. Many dismissals began with reports that he sent to the managers, and he carefully watched employees who stopped working even for a moment. Yet he was much more friendly toward the young women. Denise had noticed this but had not understood why. Pauline believed that his kindness was not as innocent as it appeared.
　　Denise learned that Robineau had returned and went down toward the silk department to look for him. The store was almost asleep in the summer heat. Only a few customers moved slowly between the counters, and even the salesmen seemed tired. Madame Boutarel had come to Paris again and was making purchases, but customers like her were unusual. The empty spaces made the great building feel completely different from the crowded machine of the winter sale.
　　Hutin and Favier saw Denise searching for Robineau. Hutin stopped her and made a cruel joke, asking whether she had been looking for him instead. Since Joinville, Denise had already been trying to understand her feelings for Hutin. His words now showed her clearly that the kindness she had once admired in him had meant very little. When she looked at him with quiet pain, even Favier felt sorry for her and told her honestly that Robineau would return later.
　　Robineau himself was fighting a different battle. During his holiday, Hutin had temporarily taken his position and had worked hard to make him look bad. Hutin wanted Robineau’s job, while Favier quietly waited for a chance to take Hutin’s place. Behind Favier were still more workers hoping to move upward. From the newest beginner to the department manager, almost everyone watched the person above and waited for an opportunity to replace him.
　　This competition was part of the Paradise’s strength. Employees worked harder because promotion meant more money, and they fought each other for every step upward. But the system also made friendships weak and created constant fear. Robineau’s fellow salesmen were now demanding that he be removed. Mouret and Bourdoncle hesitated because he was an excellent worker, but they became angry when they learned that he had helped Denise find extra work at night.
　　The employees’ meals showed another side of life in the great store. The men ate in hot, damp rooms below street level, where the air smelled of the kitchen and the food was often poor. They complained about boiled beef, cold fish, and sticky rice, but after thirteen hours of work they were hungry enough to eat almost anything. Deloche, who could not afford extra food, ate large pieces of bread while the others laughed at his hunger. Mouret promised to investigate the complaints, but the workers did not believe that much would change.
　　The women ate separately in slightly better rooms and were served at the table. Some paid for extra dishes, sweets, or coffee because spending money on food had become another small sign of elegance. Denise ate only what the store provided, however bad it was, because she could not waste a coin. In their silk uniforms the women of the coat department could look almost like ladies, but they were eating in a basement and worrying every day about dismissal. When lunch was nearly over, Denise stayed behind because she still hoped to find Robineau and somehow solve the problem of Jean’s fifteen francs.


Part 10 — Thrown Out

　　Denise stayed behind after lunch because she still hoped to speak to Robineau. But when the other women had gone, she found herself alone with Inspector Jouve. He reminded her that he had seen her talking with Pauline and said that he could report her for breaking the rules. Then his voice became softer, and he invited her to have tea and bread with him that evening.
　　Denise refused at once. Jouve came closer and tried to kiss her on the neck. Shocked and frightened, she pushed him away so hard that he almost fell across the table. Some wine splashed over his white necktie and the medal on his chest. His face filled with anger, and he told Denise that she would be sorry for what she had done.
　　Denise ran back to the coat department. For a long time she was too upset to think about Robineau or Jean. The summer heat filled the first floor, and even the few customers who appeared made everyone tired. At about three o’clock Madame Aurélie began to fall asleep, so Denise quietly left the department again. She still needed to find Robineau and somehow obtain the money Jean had asked for.
　　Denise moved carefully through the store so that no one would guess where she was going. She stopped in the lace department and spoke briefly to Deloche, then went downstairs by another route. But before she reached Robineau, she suddenly saw Jean standing near the neckties. He had entered the store even though Denise had told him never to come there. Several employees were already watching them with interest.
　　Jean whispered that the woman connected with his latest problem was waiting outside near the fountain. He needed the fifteen francs immediately, or everything would end badly. Denise became terrified that the other employees would hear him. She pushed Jean toward a staircase leading to the basement and told him to keep moving. Once below, he continued his confused story about a man who had seen him kissing the woman and was now demanding money.
　　Denise finally lost her patience. “Where do you think I can find fifteen francs?” she asked. She told Jean that she worked until she was exhausted and sometimes stayed awake at night to earn extra money. His troubles were taking away money that she needed for Pépé. She did not want to hear another dramatic story about husbands, knives, jealous men, or dangerous women.
　　Jean suddenly understood how much his sister was suffering. He began to cry and called himself selfish. He kissed Denise’s hands and said that he would never ask her for money again. For a moment he even told her not to give him anything and said that he would face the danger himself. Denise began crying too, because however angry she became, she could never stop worrying about him.
　　Then they heard footsteps in the passage. Denise looked out and saw Jouve approaching with his stiff military walk. She did not know whether he had followed them or whether someone had told him that Jean was inside the store. Remembering what had happened in the dining room, she became frightened and told Jean to run. They hurried through the basement passages toward the street entrance while Jouve ran behind them.
　　Jean escaped before the inspector could catch him. Denise promised that she would still try to find the fifteen francs somehow. Jouve arrived a moment later, breathing heavily and wearing a new white necktie to replace the one Denise had stained. He told her that her behaviour was disgraceful and that he would not accept it. Denise was too frightened and confused to explain that the young man was only her brother.
　　As she returned upstairs, Denise immediately regretted running away. If she had calmly introduced Jean, perhaps someone might have believed her. Now the scene in the basement looked secret and suspicious. She knew that the women in her department already claimed that Jean was her lover. Jouve could therefore tell a story that seemed to support everything Clara and Marguerite had been saying.
　　Jouve went to report Denise to the management. Mouret was in his office with Bourdoncle and Robineau, and the conversation with Robineau appeared friendly. Although the silk salesmen wanted Robineau dismissed, Mouret had not yet decided to send him away. Jouve did not enter the office. Instead, when Bourdoncle came out, the inspector quietly told him what had happened.
　　Bourdoncle listened without showing any emotion. He had disliked Denise from the beginning and had already wanted to dismiss her because of the necktie work. He also knew that Mouret might defend her again if he were consulted. So Bourdoncle decided to act before Mouret could interfere. He went directly to the coat department with Jouve.
　　Madame Aurélie was already angry with Denise for disappearing again during working hours. Bourdoncle spoke to her quietly while all the saleswomen watched. Then Madame Aurélie turned toward Denise with a serious face. “Mademoiselle Baudu,” she said, “go and get paid.” The words that had frightened the whole store during the summer dismissals had finally been spoken to Denise.
　　Denise became white and asked what she had done. Bourdoncle mentioned the neckties and said that young women could not be allowed to meet men secretly in the basement. “But it was my brother!” Denise cried. Clara and Marguerite laughed immediately. To them it was only the same excuse that Denise had used before.
　　Denise looked around the department and understood that nobody there wanted to believe her. Bourdoncle had always disliked her, Jouve now wanted revenge, and the women who had laughed at her for months were pleased to see her leave. She had spent nine months trying to win a place among them through patience and hard work. At that moment she felt that all her effort had achieved nothing.
　　She began to walk away without saying anything more. But near the main stairs, one thought stopped her. Mouret might hear the false story and believe that she had secretly met a lover in the basement. Denise suddenly wanted to explain the truth to him before leaving. She did not expect him to give her the job back; she simply wanted him to know that the man had really been Jean.
　　Denise walked toward Mouret’s office, but her courage disappeared when she reached the door. She imagined him laughing at her explanation just as the others had done. The weight of everything fell on her at once: the lost job, the unpaid debts, Pépé, Jean, and the fact that she had nowhere to sleep that night. Instead of entering, she turned away and went to collect the money that the store owed her.
　　At the pay office, Denise received her wages for twenty-two days and the small commission she had earned. On her way out she finally met Robineau. He had already heard about her dismissal and promised to continue looking for the woman who owed her money for the neckties. Robineau was angry that a worker could serve a business for months or years and still be put into the street almost without warning. At five o’clock Denise stepped outside into the hot Paris afternoon with her small amount of money in her pocket and no idea where she would go.
　　That evening Robineau received his own letter from The Ladies’ Paradise. After seven years in the store, he too had been dismissed. Hutin and Favier were delighted because Robineau’s departure opened the way for their own promotion. In the coat department, Clara and Marguerite were equally pleased that Denise had disappeared. Only Pauline and Deloche spoke sadly about the friend who had been taken from them.
　　When Mouret finally learned what had happened to Denise, he became extremely angry with Bourdoncle. He made his own inquiries and discovered that Denise had told the truth: Campion, the clerk in the basement, had recognised Jean and confirmed that he really was her brother. Mouret even talked about taking Denise back. Later Bourdoncle quietly told him that perhaps it was better for everyone that she was gone, and Mouret became embarrassed. He tried to laugh and turned the conversation back to business, but Denise’s dismissal had disturbed him far more than he wanted anyone to know.


Part 11 — Life Outside the Paradise

　　After leaving The Ladies’ Paradise, Denise wandered through the streets without knowing where to go. Only an hour earlier she had possessed a job, a room, and a bed. Now she had a little money in her pocket and nothing else. Again and again she somehow returned to the streets around the Paradise, because this was the only part of Paris she knew well. She did not dare to ask her uncle for help after all the angry words between them.
　　At last Denise noticed a sign offering a furnished room above Bourras’s umbrella shop. She asked the old man about it and explained that she had been dismissed from the Paradise. The room cost fifteen francs a month. Bourras led her up a dark, broken staircase to a tiny room containing a bed, a table, two chairs, and a small stove. It was poor and uncomfortable, but Denise immediately said that it would suit her.
　　She paid one month in advance and sent someone to bring her box from the Paradise. For the first time since her dismissal, she felt a little calmer because she knew where she would sleep. But the next two months were extremely hard. Denise could no longer afford to pay someone else to care for Pépé, so she brought him to live with her. Bourras lent her an old couch for the child.
　　Denise needed at least thirty sous a day, even when she ate almost nothing herself. She always tried to give Pépé some soup or meat, while she sometimes went to bed hungry. The woman who had owed her money for making neckties was finally found and paid the eighteen francs and six sous, but this money soon disappeared. Denise applied for work at several large Paris stores, but the summer season was quiet everywhere. Thousands of other shop employees were also looking for jobs.
　　Denise accepted any small work she could find, but sometimes people did not even pay her. On difficult evenings she gave Pépé his dinner and told him that she had already eaten somewhere else. Jean still came to see her and felt terrible when he understood how poor she was. Denise sometimes secretly gave him a little money anyway, simply to show him that she was managing. She never cried in front of either brother.
　　Life in the poor house brought other dangers. Some men followed Denise in the street or tried to enter her room because they thought a young woman living alone in such a place must be available to them. One evening a well-dressed man followed her all the way home and became aggressive at the door. Denise shut the door in his face, though there was not even bread in the room for Pépé’s next meal. She knew that accepting money from such a man could end her poverty, but she refused.
　　People had told Denise that a woman alone in Paris could not survive only by working. Pauline had once given her similar advice in a kinder way. Yet Denise still believed that she could live through courage, work, and careful choices. She did not think she was better than other women, but she knew what she herself could not accept. Even hunger could not change that decision.
　　From her little room Denise could still hear The Ladies’ Paradise through the wall. The huge store seemed to shake Bourras’s weak old building when business became busy. She could hear footsteps, deliveries, and the movement of goods, and she often imagined what was happening in her old department. Pauline sometimes met her and offered help, while Deloche even tried to lend her thirty francs. Denise refused because she wanted to support herself if she possibly could.
　　Colomban also began visiting her, but not because Baudu had sent him. He wanted to talk about Clara. Denise tried to remind him that Geneviève loved him and that Clara had shown no real interest in him. Colomban would not listen. He returned again and again, happy simply because Denise had once worked near the woman he desired.
　　Toward the end of September, Pépé became ill with a bad cold. Denise had almost no food left and could not buy the good broth he needed. One evening she finally broke down and cried. Bourras knocked at the door and brought a loaf of bread and a container of broth. Then he told her to come downstairs the next morning because he had found some work for her.
　　Bourras’s own business was already suffering because The Ladies’ Paradise now sold umbrellas. He had stopped employing workers and usually did all the repairing and sewing himself. Still, he gave Denise work at two francs a day because he could not watch her and Pépé starve. Denise repaired silk and lace while Bourras carved beautiful handles for umbrellas and walking sticks. Beneath his angry manner, she discovered a generous old man.
　　Pépé soon spent his days in the shop too. He crawled between Denise and Bourras while the old man carved dogs, flowers, animals, and faces into pieces of wood. Bourras constantly complained about the Paradise and said that modern stores were destroying real craftsmanship. The great shop had already offered him large sums to leave his building, but he always refused. “They will never have this place while I am alive,” he declared.
　　Denise gently told him that accepting a good offer might be wiser than losing everything. Bourras became furious every time she said this. He believed that giving up would mean losing his honour. The Paradise could take away his customers and profits, but he would not willingly give it his little shop. Denise could understand his pride, though she also saw that he was fighting a power far stronger than himself.
　　After several months Denise found another job. Robineau had bought Vinçard’s old silk shop with his wife’s money and the financial support of Gaujean. One of his saleswomen left to work at The Ladies’ Paradise, so he immediately employed Denise. Bourras complained that she was ungrateful, but his anger quickly softened. He even offered to care for Pépé during the day so that Denise could go to her new job.
　　Life at Robineau’s was kinder than life at the Paradise. Denise earned sixty francs a month with meals, and Madame Robineau treated her almost like a member of the family. At dinner the Robineaus often discussed their struggle against the great department stores. Gaujean argued that the Paradise could buy huge amounts of silk and force manufacturers to accept lower prices. Small shops like Robineau’s could never buy on the same scale.
　　Denise listened carefully but surprised them by defending the new system. She said that customers benefited from lower prices and that the large stores were changing business in a way that could not simply be stopped. She did not forget how badly the Paradise had treated her. Still, she believed the new method was stronger because it removed some middle costs, sold more goods, and served the public more cheaply. Even Robineau sometimes understood that there was truth in what she said.
　　Months passed, and Denise became more confident. One warm July evening she took Pépé for a walk in the Tuileries Gardens because her little room was too hot. Suddenly she saw Mouret coming toward her. Her first thought was to escape, but he had already recognised her. He stopped, looked at Pépé, and politely asked whether the child was her brother.
　　Mouret then apologized for Denise’s dismissal. He told her that the store had learned the truth and that everyone now knew Jean and Pépé really were her brothers. He offered her a place at The Ladies’ Paradise again, but Denise refused because she already had work with Robineau. As they walked together, she spoke openly about modern business and explained why she believed the big stores represented the future. Mouret listened with growing surprise and admiration, realizing that the shy country girl had become a thoughtful young woman.
　　Before they separated, Mouret asked Denise to speak to Bourras for him because he planned to offer the old man even more money for his lease. Denise agreed to give the message, though she warned that Bourras would probably refuse. That evening she returned to find the umbrella dealer furious because Mouret had actually bought the building itself. Bourras rejected the new offer immediately and swore that no amount of money would make him leave.
　　While Denise was trying to reason with him, Baudu entered the shop. At first her uncle hardly looked at her, but then he noticed how thin she was and saw Pépé sleeping on a chair. His anger finally weakened. “Denise,” he said, “come and have dinner with us tomorrow, and bring the little one.” Denise became red with emotion, kissed him, and understood that after many months of separation, the door of the Old Elbeuf was open to her again.


Part 12 — The Price War

　　During the months when Denise worked for Robineau, an important battle took place between his small silk shop and The Ladies’ Paradise. Gaujean believed that the great stores were destroying manufacturers as well as small retailers. He therefore decided to help Robineau attack the Paradise directly. Their target would be the famous Paris Delight silk, the very product that had brought so many customers to Mouret.
　　Gaujean offered Robineau a new black silk of excellent quality. Robineau could sell it for five francs fifty a metre, while Paris Delight still cost five francs sixty. The difference was small, but Gaujean believed that women would notice even a few sous. Robineau examined the sample and became excited. He thought the new silk looked even stronger and richer than Mouret’s famous material.
　　Robineau decided to use the same methods that the great store used against its enemies. He bought large newspaper advertisements and filled his windows with piles of the black silk. Huge white signs clearly showed the price: five francs fifty. The low figure immediately attracted attention. For the first time, the little shop tried to fight The Ladies’ Paradise with modern advertising and spectacular prices.
　　The plan worked at first. Women crowded into Robineau’s shop to examine the new silk. Madame Marty bought enough for a dress even though she did not really need another one. She told herself that buying it was sensible because the price was so good. Madame Bourdelais also came to inspect the material, but she decided to wait because she suspected that Mouret would answer the challenge.
　　She was right. At The Ladies’ Paradise, Mouret discussed the problem with Bourdoncle and his managers. Paris Delight was already being sold with almost no profit, so another price cut would mean a real loss. Bourdoncle thought this was madness. Mouret insisted that they had to answer immediately because allowing a smaller competitor to appear cheaper would be far more dangerous.
　　Mouret reduced Paris Delight from five francs sixty to about five francs forty. The result was immediate. The crowd that had been flowing toward Robineau’s shop suddenly began to move back toward the Paradise. Women who had praised Robineau’s bargain only days before now wanted to see Mouret’s new price. Robineau had expected competition, but he had not expected his rival to sell at a loss.
　　Gaujean hurried back from Lyons, and he and Robineau decided that they could not give up. They reduced their silk again, to five francs thirty. They told themselves that this must be the lowest possible price. But the following day Mouret answered with five francs twenty. Robineau’s hope changed into anger.
　　He reduced his price to about five francs fifteen. Mouret immediately answered with about five francs ten. After that, each side lowered the price by only one sou at a time. Every new reduction meant another loss for the seller and another gift to the customer. What had begun as normal competition had become a personal duel.
　　The women of Paris greatly enjoyed the battle. They followed the changing prices almost as people followed the movements of two fighters. Some went first to Robineau, then crossed to The Ladies’ Paradise, comparing the silks and laughing at the latest reduction. Each businessman was losing money for the pleasure of attracting them. The customers were the only certain winners.
　　At last Mouret put Paris Delight at exactly five francs. Even his own managers became pale when they saw the new price. Robineau felt that he could not retreat without losing all respect, so he also reduced his silk to five francs. Neither man dared go lower. The two shops now faced each other at the same price, surrounded by silk that they were selling at a serious loss.
　　Yet equal prices did not mean equal strength. The Ladies’ Paradise could lose money on silk because it made profits in many other departments. A woman who came for Paris Delight might also buy gloves, a coat, linen, lace, or something for her home. The loss on one product could therefore be recovered somewhere else. Robineau had only a small shop and could not protect himself in the same way.
　　Robineau also had much less capital. Every metre of silk sold too cheaply weakened him, while the Paradise could continue the battle much longer. His shop had attracted many customers during the first excitement, but little by little they began returning to the great store. This was especially painful because Robineau had spent so much money to bring them to him. He had won their attention but had not won their loyalty.
　　One day Madame de Boves came into his shop to look at ready-made coats. Robineau had recently added this type of clothing because he was trying to increase his business. Madame de Boves examined one coat and complained that its silk was too thin. “Paris Delight is much stronger,” she said. Robineau politely told her that she was mistaken, though his face was becoming red.
　　Madame de Boves continued criticizing the material. This was especially painful because Robineau knew something she did not know: the coat was actually made from Paris Delight. He had bought some of Mouret’s cheap silk because it cost less than material he could obtain elsewhere. In this strange situation, Mouret was losing money on the silk even when Robineau used it to make coats for his own shop.
　　At last Robineau could not control himself. He showed Madame de Boves a small part of the original edge of the material that had not been completely cut away. “This is Paris Delight,” he told her. Madame de Boves was annoyed rather than embarrassed. The story spread, and some customers stopped coming to Robineau’s shop.
　　Robineau now began to fear not only for himself but also for his wife. Most of the money he had invested belonged to Madame Robineau, and he imagined her suddenly poor because of his decision. She refused to blame him. She told him that the money belonged to both of them and that she cared much more about him than about being rich. Their affection touched Denise deeply, but it also made her more afraid for their future.
　　Denise could now see both sides of the conflict more clearly. She loved the Robineaus and hated watching their money disappear, yet she could not convince herself that the new kind of business was wrong. Lower prices truly helped customers. Manufacturers increasingly depended on large orders, and the large stores could move enormous amounts of goods. To Denise, this change seemed like a powerful river that could not simply be ordered to flow backward.
　　Across the street, Bourras was fighting the same force in his own way. After The Ladies’ Paradise surrounded his little building, he spent his savings making the umbrella shop brighter and more modern. The front was cleaned and painted, and even the old sign received new decoration. People in the neighbourhood came to stare because the rough old craftsman looked almost uncomfortable inside his newly polished shop.
　　Bourras also produced a new automatic umbrella. He hoped that this invention, together with his beautifully carved handles, would prove that real skill could defeat mass-produced goods. He even sold one type of umbrella for one franc nineteen sous in an attempt to compete on price. But The Ladies’ Paradise quickly copied and improved the idea, offered many different materials, and used its size to attract more customers.
　　Bourras became furious with himself for trying to fight Mouret by using Mouret’s own methods. He said that he should never have entered a battle over cheap goods because his real strength was craftsmanship. Robineau had discovered the same problem with silk: the small trader could copy the great store’s advertising and price cuts, but he could not copy its enormous capital or its many departments. Denise watched both men struggle and understood more clearly than ever that the commercial war was not being fought between equal enemies.


Part 13 — The Neighbourhood Falls Apart

　　The whole neighbourhood was changing. A new wide street, the Rue du Dix-Décembre, was being cut through the old streets toward the new Opera House. Buildings were pulled down, carts carried stone and bricks, and workers filled the area with dust and noise. At the same time, The Ladies’ Paradise was expanding again. Mouret planned to occupy almost the entire block.
　　When Denise went to dinner at the Old Elbeuf with Pépé, she immediately saw how much worse the shop looked. The windows seemed darker, the sign was dirty, and dust lay on counters that were rarely used. Madame Baudu and Geneviève sat quietly in the almost empty shop. Only Colomban remained as an employee because Baudu could no longer afford the other workers.
　　During dinner Baudu again argued with Denise about the Paradise. Denise explained that the large stores were part of a natural change in modern business and that customers benefited from lower prices and wider choice. Baudu admitted that the Paradise was succeeding, but he refused to call this success good. He said that the Old Elbeuf would remain an old-fashioned cloth shop and would not change simply to follow Mouret.
　　Yet even Baudu could not ignore the numbers. In only a few years, the Paradise’s yearly sales had grown from about eight million francs to forty million. It now had around a thousand employees and twenty-eight departments. Baudu was especially angry about the new departments because the store was entering trades that had once belonged to separate shops. Furniture and fancy goods were only the latest examples.
　　After dinner Denise noticed that Geneviève looked dangerously thin. When the others left the room, Geneviève suddenly began to cry. Denise saw how narrow her shoulders had become and how little strength remained in her body. Geneviève finally asked the question she had been afraid to ask: “Does Colomban love Clara?”
　　Denise tried to protect her cousin and said that Colomban loved her. Geneviève did not believe this. She had seen him watching Clara across the street and knew that his feelings had changed. For almost ten years she had grown up believing that she and Colomban would marry. Now that future seemed to be disappearing, and she said that the pain was making her physically ill.
　　The months that followed became even harder for the Baudus. The Paradise’s construction work continued day and night. Great machines, hammers, carts, and steam equipment shook the neighbourhood, while white plaster dust entered the Old Elbeuf and covered its goods. At night powerful electric lights shone across the street. To the Baudus, the growing building looked like an enormous factory where their ruin was being made.
　　Other small traders were suffering too. Mademoiselle Tatin’s underwear shop in the Passage Choiseul went bankrupt. Quinette, the glove seller, seemed unlikely to survive another six months, while the fur sellers Vanpouille had to rent out part of their shop. The Bédoré brother and sister still kept their hosiery business, but mainly because they had old savings. Every new department opened by the Paradise seemed to create another group of victims.
　　The Old Elbeuf continued losing customers slowly. Baudu tried using travelling salesmen to reach buyers outside the shop, but this plan did not save him. At last his bills became so heavy that he sold his country house at Rambouillet. It had been the great dream of his life, the peaceful place where he hoped to retire. He received only seventy thousand francs for property that had cost him far more.
　　Baudu hoped that this money would give the business one final chance. Madame Baudu was more worried about Geneviève. She told her husband that their daughter was becoming pale and weak and that perhaps the marriage with Colomban should happen quickly. Baudu finally agreed to speak with the young man. But when the conversation took place, he made the opposite decision.
　　Baudu explained that he could not give the Old Elbeuf to Geneviève and Colomban while the business was failing. He believed he had a duty to pass the shop to them in good condition, without debt. So he decided to use the seventy thousand francs for one last struggle against the Paradise. The marriage would again be postponed for another year. Colomban, secretly relieved because of his feelings for Clara, agreed without protest.
　　Madame Baudu understood the danger immediately. “It will be our daughter’s death,” she told her husband. Baudu became angry because he believed he was acting honourably for the whole family. He thought Colomban would patiently wait and that there was no reason to hurry. He did not understand that Colomban was already turning away from Geneviève.
　　Meanwhile, Denise decided to leave Robineau’s shop. Business there was becoming so weak that the Robineaus needed to reduce their staff, and Denise saw that they were embarrassed about dismissing her. She therefore told them that she had found another position. Madame Robineau embraced her warmly. When Denise admitted that she was returning to The Ladies’ Paradise, Robineau turned pale but said strongly, “You are right.”
　　Mouret offered Denise a salary of one thousand francs a year. It was far more than she had earned before, and she could not reasonably refuse it. Telling Bourras was much harder. His shop was now surrounded by Paradise buildings, and he was fighting a legal battle because Mouret’s workers wanted to strengthen the foundations and build a passage beneath his house. When Denise announced that she too was leaving, the old man seemed suddenly crushed.
　　Bourras stared at her and said, “So I am the only one left.” Then his old anger returned. He told her to take the thousand francs and go, because at least he would never surrender. Denise was deeply grateful to him, but she knew she could not remain simply because he was fighting a hopeless war. Pépé would return to Madame Gras, who had cared for him before.
　　Soon Deloche told Denise some gossip from the Paradise. Clara, he said, had attracted Mouret’s attention and was now connected with him. Denise became pale when she heard this. She tried to tell herself that Mouret’s private life meant nothing to her, yet she went home and cried. She even thought for a moment about returning to Valognes and escaping Paris completely.
　　The next day Denise found Colomban alone in the Old Elbeuf and confronted him. She told him that Geneviève knew about Clara and was becoming seriously ill from grief. Colomban seemed honestly surprised because he had hardly noticed Geneviève’s suffering. Denise became angry and told him that Clara did not love him and would never marry him. Finally, losing control of herself, she told him that Clara was Mouret’s mistress.
　　Colomban became pale but answered simply, “I love her.” Those words stopped Denise. She suddenly understood that feelings could not be changed by reasonable arguments. But when she turned around, Geneviève was standing at the dining-room door. Her white face showed that she had heard enough.
　　At that moment Madame Bourdelais entered the shop. She was one of the last loyal customers of the Old Elbeuf and asked to see some flannel. Geneviève showed her a piece at six francs. Madame Bourdelais said that The Ladies’ Paradise had the same quality for five francs, perhaps even slightly better. Baudu argued with her until she warned that she too would go across the street if he could not offer a better price.
　　Baudu finally lost control. “Then go opposite!” he shouted. Madame Bourdelais immediately left, crossed the street, and disappeared through the great entrance of The Ladies’ Paradise. The whole Baudu family watched as if she were carrying away the last part of their fortune. Geneviève quietly told Denise that the Paradise had taken everything from them: money, customers, and now even Colomban; and outside, the bright delivery vans of the great store rolled past one after another, making every little shop in the street shake.


Part 14 — How to Trap a Customer

　　On Monday, March 14, The Ladies’ Paradise opened its enlarged buildings with a great three-day exhibition of summer goods. The new store now occupied almost the entire block and had entrances on several streets. Inside were thirty-nine departments and about eighteen hundred employees, including two hundred women. The small shopkeepers nearby stood at their windows and watched the first carriages arrive. The building that had once seemed large now looked like a whole commercial city.
　　Mouret had one main purpose behind all this growth: he wanted to attract women and keep them inside his store. He constantly looked for new ways to make shopping easier, more exciting, and harder to resist. He had installed two comfortable lifts so that customers would not become tired climbing stairs. There was also a refreshment bar with free drinks and biscuits, and a luxurious reading room where people could rest. Every service was another reason for customers to remain in the building longer.
　　Mouret had also begun to think seriously about children. If he could not attract a woman through her own desire for clothes or beautiful things, he could attract her through her children. New departments sold goods for boys and girls. Children received colourful pictures as presents. Their mothers could therefore tell themselves that a trip to The Ladies’ Paradise was also a pleasant outing for the family.
　　His cleverest children’s gift was a red balloon. Each balloon carried the name of The Ladies’ Paradise in large letters. A child who received one naturally wanted to carry it through the streets. The balloon floated above the family as they walked home. In this way, thousands of children became moving advertisements without knowing it.
　　Advertising itself had become one of Mouret’s greatest weapons. The Paradise now spent about three hundred thousand francs each year on advertisements, posters, and catalogues. For this summer sale alone, two hundred thousand catalogues had been printed. Fifty thousand were sent abroad in translations for foreign customers. The name of the Paradise was meant to appear everywhere a possible customer might look.
　　The catalogues were becoming more attractive too. They contained pictures of the goods and sometimes even small pieces of real material attached to the pages. A woman living far from Paris could see a design and touch a sample before deciding to order. The store therefore reached customers who might never enter the building itself. Its advertising travelled much farther than its delivery vans or shop windows.
　　Mouret also studied what happened when women saw low prices. He believed that many customers bought things they did not need simply because they thought they had found a bargain. So goods that remained unsold were reduced little by little. Mouret preferred to sell an old article at a loss rather than leave it sitting on a shelf. The important thing was to keep goods and money moving constantly.
　　Another new idea was the system of returns. A customer could buy something and later bring it back if she changed her mind. This removed one of the final reasons for refusing a purchase. A woman could tell herself, “I can always return it tomorrow.” Mouret knew that once the article had been taken home, many customers would keep it after all.
　　Yet Mouret’s most unusual ideas concerned the arrangement inside the store. He believed that no part of The Ladies’ Paradise should ever appear empty or quiet. A crowd attracted another crowd. Noise suggested success, and success made people curious. If customers saw many others buying, they were more likely to enter and buy too.
　　For this reason, Mouret deliberately created a crowd at the entrances. Cheap goods were placed near the doors in overflowing baskets and on tables. Working-class women stopped to examine the bargains and blocked part of the entrance. People walking past saw the crowd and imagined that something extraordinary must be happening inside. Sometimes the store looked completely full from the street even when large areas inside were still quiet.
　　Mouret used the same principle farther inside. A department that became quiet during one season was placed near departments that remained busy. In summer, for example, an unpopular department could be surrounded by areas filled with customers. Large goods such as furniture and carpets were placed upstairs, where fewer customers would not make the ground floor look empty. Mouret wanted movement everywhere the eye could see.
　　At first he had planned the new building very logically. Similar goods were placed near one another, so a customer could easily find exactly what she wanted. Dresses, coats, and related articles followed a sensible order. On the Saturday before the opening, however, Mouret suddenly decided that this careful arrangement was a serious mistake. He ordered much of the store to be changed immediately.
　　The employees thought he had lost his mind. They worked through two nights and all day Sunday moving goods that had only just been placed correctly. Costumes went upstairs, Japanese goods went somewhere else, and departments that naturally belonged together were separated. Even on Monday morning, one hour before opening, workers were still carrying articles through the building. Bourdoncle finally asked why all this confusion was necessary.
　　Mouret explained that a logical store was bad for business. A woman who knew exactly where everything was could enter, go directly to the department she needed, buy one article, and leave. She might never see most of the building. “She would not even get lost,” Mouret complained. To him, helping customers find the shortest path meant losing chances to sell.
　　His new plan was the opposite. Related departments would be separated, forcing customers to walk from one end of the store to the other. Employees would constantly guide women through galleries and across floors. Bourdoncle objected that the staff would become exhausted from all this walking. Mouret answered that he did not care because moving employees would also make the store appear more crowded.
　　Mouret then explained the deeper purpose of the plan. Customers moving in many directions would spread throughout the building instead of gathering in only one place. Because they had to walk so far, the Paradise would seem three times larger than it really was. Most importantly, women would pass through departments they had never intended to visit. On the way to something they needed, they would meet many things they had never thought of buying.
　　Denise arrived early that morning and was amazed by the new arrangement. She had returned to The Ladies’ Paradise in February and found the atmosphere completely changed. Madame Aurélie now treated her politely, Clara and Marguerite no longer openly attacked her, and even Jouve behaved with embarrassed respect. Everyone understood that Mouret had taken a special interest in her. Denise herself was still uncertain about what that interest meant.
　　Mouret saw her looking at the confusion and seemed amused by her surprise. Then he quietly asked her to come to his office after work because he wanted to speak with her. Denise became nervous but agreed. Bourdoncle had heard the invitation and warned Mouret that his interest in Denise might become serious. Mouret laughed and repeated his old claim that the woman who could control him had not yet been born.
　　At last the doors opened. Cheap cloth, lace, ribbons, gloves, stockings, and other small goods immediately attracted a crowd around the entrance. Housewives and working women stopped to examine articles that cost only a few sous. The doorway became so crowded that the police eventually had to help control the people outside. Mouret had created exactly the effect he wanted.
　　By early afternoon, people waiting outside could hardly move. Some women had not planned to enter at all, but the sight of the crowd made them curious. Madame Marty, who said she needed only one small piece of braid, and Madame de Boves, who claimed she did not want to shop, both found themselves pulled toward the entrance. The crowd itself had become another form of advertising. Before these women had even reached the counters, The Ladies’ Paradise had already begun to change their plans.


Part 15 — Lost Inside the Paradise

　　Once inside, the women discovered that the new Paradise was far larger than it looked from the street. The main gallery rose through several floors like the inside of a great railway station. Iron stairs curved upward, high bridges crossed the open space, and galleries ran around the walls. Light came through the glass roof and passed between the iron beams. From almost any point, customers could see other floors filled with people and goods.
　　Madame Marty had originally said that she only needed a small piece of braid. Before finding it, however, she stopped in front of a red parasol priced at fourteen francs fifty. She suddenly decided that she must have it. Madame Bourdelais, who was shopping with her three children, told her to wait. “In a month it will probably cost ten francs,” she said.
　　Madame Bourdelais was proud of using the Paradise without allowing it to use her. She studied prices carefully and waited for real reductions. She said that the great stores could lower prices as much as they liked, because she would simply wait until the bargain was truly good. She even joked that she had never allowed the Paradise to make a sou of profit from her. Madame Marty listened but bought the parasol anyway.
　　The two women represented very different kinds of customer. Madame Bourdelais entered with a plan and usually kept control of her money. Madame Guibal enjoyed looking, buying, and then returning most of what she had taken home. Madame de Boves wanted luxury she could not afford and suffered because of it. Madame Marty simply became weaker with every new display she saw.
　　Madame Bourdelais took her children upstairs to the reading room and the free refreshment bar. The children drank syrup and happily looked at pictures while their mother rested. Even this was part of Mouret’s plan. A mother who brought her children for pleasure might begin buying things for them. Soon Madame Bourdelais herself admitted that the children’s wishes had made her spend more than she intended.
　　Meanwhile Madame Marty continued moving from department to department. She bought cravats, embroidered gloves, and the red parasol, and then added more articles so quickly that one salesman could no longer carry them all. At last he placed her purchases on a chair and pulled it behind him. Petticoats, napkins, curtains, a lamp, and three straw hats were already piled on it. The chair had become a small vehicle carrying the results of her growing excitement.
　　In the coat department Madame Marty saw another garment she liked. It was an old design that the store wanted to remove, so Marguerite explained that its price had already fallen from one hundred fifty francs to one hundred thirty and then to one hundred ten. The low price was enough to defeat Madame Marty’s final resistance. She bought the coat because it seemed foolish to lose such a bargain. The fact that she had not needed a coat a few minutes earlier no longer mattered.
　　Madame Desforges was there too, with Denise serving her. Henriette had come partly because she wanted to discover which saleswoman interested Mouret. She treated Denise coldly and complained about one coat after another. Denise remained calm and polite, even when she understood that the customer was deliberately making things difficult. Her patience only made Madame Desforges more angry.
　　Madame Desforges then asked to be taken to the dress department. Because Mouret had separated related departments, the journey was absurdly long. Denise had to guide her through gallery after gallery, while Madame Marty and the chair full of purchases followed. Henriette complained that a customer had to walk miles to find anything. This was exactly the result Mouret had wanted.
　　Every new department created another temptation. Madame Marty stopped for shirts, then a black silk corset, fur cuffs, and fashionable lace for table linen. On the central landing she bought six ivory buttons, some little silk mice, and a lacquered matchbox. Upstairs she became interested in furnishing cloth and then in a small worktable. The heavier her purchases became, the more difficult it was to move the chair through the store.
　　The return system gave Madame Marty a final excuse to continue. She met Madame Guibal, who was returning some curtains she had bought five days before. The salesman clearly suspected that the curtains had already been used, but store rules required him to accept them. Madame Guibal told Madame Marty that she could do the same with the worktable. Madame Marty happily decided that if her husband complained, she could simply send everything back.
　　In truth, Madame Marty already wanted to keep everything. The possibility of returning the goods only made it easier for her to buy them. She continued walking through the building until she was almost unable to stand. Her original piece of braid had long been forgotten. The store had successfully replaced one small need with a whole series of new desires.
　　The enormous building itself helped create this state of mind. The women were surrounded by staircases, bridges, mirrors, displays, bright colours, and other customers moving in every direction. From the upper galleries they could look down on a sea of heads below. The whole structure seemed to vibrate with footsteps and voices. Instead of feeling like visitors in a shop, they seemed to have entered a complete world built for buying.
　　Mouret was proud of this world, but Vallagnosc asked him about another result of displaying so many goods: theft. Mouret answered by describing different kinds of people caught stealing in great stores. He spoke of professional thieves, but he also repeated medical ideas of his own period about “kleptomania” and even pregnancy causing uncontrollable desires for particular objects. These were nineteenth-century beliefs and classifications, not facts that should simply be accepted today. What matters in the story is that the new department store was thought to create temptations so strong that observers tried to explain stealing as a special illness.
　　Inspector Jouve spent much of the day watching suspicious customers. He followed one woman closely because he believed she was stealing while her companion protected her from view. At last he searched the woman and found nothing. Only then did he understand that the woman he had watched was a distraction and that her companion had probably carried away the goods. Even an experienced inspector could become confused in such a large crowd.
　　Madame de Boves faced a different temptation in the lace department. She had wandered through the store without buying because her husband gave her almost no spending money. Tired and frustrated, she touched expensive lace while the salesman looked away. For one moment she slipped a piece under her coat, then became frightened by a nearby voice and dropped it. No one realized what she had almost done.
　　By late afternoon, the Paradise was hot and dusty. The setting sun entered through the windows and made the iron, glass, and gold decoration shine red. Customers still pushed through the departments while exhausted employees tried to make final sales. Madame Marty continued walking even though she could hardly stand. She seemed unable to leave while there was still another counter she had not examined.
　　When Madame Marty finally left, she was frightened by the size of her bill. She had come from the cold street with clear eyes and had entered saying that she needed almost nothing. Hours later she was physically exhausted and surrounded by purchases. The advertisements, bargains, returns, crowds, displays, and endless journeys through the building had all worked together. She had become the perfect example of the customer Mouret’s system was designed to create.
　　That evening Denise remembered that Mouret had asked her to come to his office. He told her that the management was very pleased with her work. Madame Frédéric had suddenly left, and Mouret wanted Denise to replace her as second-in-command of the coat department. Denise protested that several women had worked there much longer. Mouret answered that Denise was the most capable and trustworthy person for the position.
　　While Denise was thanking him, Lhomme entered carrying the day’s money. The receipts had reached 587,210 francs and 30 centimes, a new record for The Ladies’ Paradise. Mouret looked happily at the bags of coins and notes covering his table, then jokingly told Denise that she could take as much money as one hand could hold. Suddenly Denise understood that the offer was not really an innocent joke and that Mouret desired her. She stepped back, hurt that money had entered the moment just when she felt grateful to him; then Bourdoncle appeared, and Denise quickly escaped from the office, while Mouret was left with the news that seventy thousand customers had entered his store that day.


Part 16 — Denise Says No

　　On the first Sunday in August, The Ladies’ Paradise closed its doors for the yearly stock-taking. Denise had hurt her ankle a few days earlier and was still resting in her room upstairs. That morning a housekeeper brought her a letter from Mouret. He asked how she was feeling and invited her to have dinner with him that evening. The words were polite, but Denise immediately understood what the invitation really meant.
　　Denise sat by the window with the letter in her hand. During the quiet days in her room, she had already begun to understand something about herself. She had always thought that Mouret frightened her because he was powerful, but now she knew the truth. She loved him. Looking back, she realized that even her old feelings for Hutin had only hidden a deeper feeling that she had not yet understood.
　　Pauline came upstairs and immediately noticed that Denise was upset. At last Denise showed her Mouret’s letter. Pauline was not surprised at all. She said that almost everyone in the store believed Mouret was in love with Denise because he watched her constantly and had promoted her so quickly. Then Pauline naturally asked whether Denise would accept his invitation.
　　Denise began to cry. Pauline tried to comfort her by saying that Mouret no longer seemed interested in Clara and that Madame Desforges might not be as important as people said. But these words only made Denise more certain of her own love because hearing the names of the other women caused her real pain. Finally Denise said that if a man truly loved a woman, he should marry her. Pauline laughed gently and reminded her that Mouret was the rich owner of the store, while Denise was one of his employees.
　　Denise understood this difference very well. That was exactly why she believed Mouret should never have written the letter. Pauline and Baugé could marry because they were social equals and worked in similar positions. Denise could not imagine Mouret marrying a saleswoman. She therefore saw only one meaning in his invitation, and that meaning frightened and hurt her.
　　Denise decided to go downstairs and help with the stock-taking despite her injured ankle. Madame Aurélie treated her with surprising kindness and gave her a chair at a table. Denise’s position in the coat department had changed greatly since her return to the store. The women who once laughed at her now treated her with respect because she was second-in-command. Even Marguerite had become friendly, while Clara was almost the only one who remained openly hostile.
　　The closed store was full of noise and movement. Employees emptied every cupboard and shelf, counted each article, called out prices, and wrote the numbers on long sheets of paper. Coats and dresses were piled high on the tables and floor. Every department worked separately, but their voices joined into one enormous roar. Outside, people stopped at the windows and stared at the unusual activity inside the locked building.
　　Stock-taking day also meant that everyone talked about money. The employees would learn about salary increases after the final figures were known. Denise was expected to earn nearly seven thousand francs a year when her salary and commission were added together. Madame Aurélie might earn more than twenty-five thousand, while other saleswomen received much less. Clara was angry that Denise had risen so quickly above her.
　　In every department the same competition continued. Hutin was now trying to push Bouthemont out of the silk department, just as he had once helped remove Robineau. Favier supported Hutin because he hoped to take Hutin’s position after his promotion. Each man watched the employee above him and waited for a chance to rise. Success in the Paradise could bring surprisingly high pay, but it also turned fellow workers into rivals.
　　During lunch the male employees crowded into their enormous dining room. The store now had to prepare thousands of meals every day, so even the kitchen had become part of the great machine. The food had improved because Mouret had taken direct control of it instead of using an outside company. He had discovered that better-fed employees worked harder. Even an act that seemed generous was connected with business.
　　Yet the employees were still ordinary young people when they sat together at the tables. They joked about food, complained about being trapped indoors on a beautiful Sunday, discussed salaries, and talked about clubs and evenings outside the store. Many were learning English or German and trying to improve their social position. Their lives were slowly becoming more middle-class in appearance. But the constant struggle for money and promotion remained underneath.
　　By then the story of Mouret’s letter had spread through the entire store. Pauline had accidentally mentioned it where another employee could hear, and within minutes everyone knew. Some men made cruel jokes about Denise. Deloche became so angry when Favier insulted her that he threw a glass of wine across the table at him. Afterwards Deloche felt ashamed because he feared that defending Denise so strongly might create even more gossip.
　　Denise soon learned that everyone knew about the invitation. She did not blame Pauline because the story itself was true. “I received the letter,” she said calmly, “and I must answer it.” Deloche heard these words and sadly thought that Denise had decided to accept Mouret. In reality, Denise was becoming more certain that she would refuse.
　　During the afternoon the stock-taking became even louder. Goods covered the floors almost as high as the counters, and employees shouted numbers from one end of the building to the other. Denise sat in the pattern room adding figures while the noise came through the open door. Mouret passed through the department, noticed that she was missing, and soon came into the room. Madame Aurélie carefully found reasons for everyone else to leave them alone.
　　Mouret first pretended to examine the lists. When he and Denise were finally alone, he asked, “You will come this evening?” Denise quietly answered that she could not because she had promised to eat with her brothers at her uncle’s house. Mouret reminded her that her ankle hurt, but she said she could walk that far. Then he asked again, telling her how highly he thought of her.
　　Denise thanked him but still refused. Mouret then asked whether she would come the next day instead. For a moment she became confused, but when he tried to take her hand, she pulled it away. “I am afraid of nothing,” she told him. “I can choose for myself, and I do not want to come.”
　　Inspector Jouve quietly closed the door from outside, believing that he was helping his employer. Mouret could no longer pretend that the invitation was innocent. “Denise, I love you,” he said. He told her that he knew life was difficult for her and that her brothers were a heavy responsibility. He offered to give her anything she needed.
　　Denise stopped him immediately. “Thank you, but now I earn more than I need,” she said. Mouret then offered her a comfortable home, complete freedom, pleasure, luxury, and enough money to make her secure. Denise refused again. She told him that she had worked for her living since she was a child and would soon become tired if she had nothing useful to do.
　　Mouret could hardly understand her answer. Other women had accepted his money or attention easily, but Denise continued saying no. His desire became stronger because for the first time he had met a woman whom his wealth could not persuade. At last he admitted that he was suffering. Tears even appeared in his eyes, and Denise felt her own strength beginning to disappear because she loved him so deeply.
　　Mouret took her hands, and for one dangerous moment Denise wanted to give up her resistance. She wanted to put her arms around him and stay there. But when his excitement became rough, she pulled herself free. She told him that she would not become another Clara, loved briefly and then forgotten. She also knew about Madame Desforges and said clearly that she would not accept only half of a man’s love.
　　Mouret was astonished. Until then, the women in his private life had never demanded that kind of love from him. Denise was not asking for money, luxury, or an easy life; she wanted respect and a love that belonged completely to her. She asked him to open the door because it was wrong for them to remain shut in the room together. Mouret obeyed, then immediately hid his pain by angrily talking about business and ordering old goods to be reduced in price until they were sold.
　　By six o’clock the stock-taking was complete. Sixteen million francs’ worth of goods covered the floors, and the year’s total sales had reached eighty million francs. Mouret stood alone at the top of the great staircase, surrounded by the proof of another enormous victory. But he did not look like a victorious man. When Denise slowly crossed the hall and left to dine with her family, he watched her go, and for that moment all the money, goods, and power of The Ladies’ Paradise seemed worthless to him.


Part 17 — Madame Desforges’s Revenge

　　One afternoon Bouthemont arrived early at Madame Desforges’s home. Henriette was waiting impatiently because she had asked Mouret to come and wanted Baron Hartmann there as well. She was now deeply jealous of Denise. Since Denise had refused Mouret, he had returned for a time to Clara and had also spent large amounts of money on other pleasures. Henriette believed that all this wild behaviour came from his inability to win Denise.
　　Henriette told Bouthemont that she wanted revenge. She had bought a coat at The Ladies’ Paradise and had ordered Madame Aurélie to send Denise personally to her house to examine it. Her plan was simple: she would keep Denise there until Mouret arrived and then force them to face each other. She hoped to discover their true feelings and, if possible, humiliate Denise before him. Bouthemont listened uneasily but did not try very hard to stop her.
　　Their conversation soon turned to Bouthemont’s own future. His position at the Paradise had become dangerous because too many fancy silks had remained unsold after the last season. Hutin was secretly working against him and hoped to take his place. Henriette suddenly asked why Bouthemont did not open a great store of his own. He admitted that he had already dreamed of creating a rival establishment in northern Paris, near the Opera.
　　Bouthemont said that such a store would require millions of francs. His father, who still owned a traditional shop in the south of France, hated the great Paris department stores and would never support the plan. Henriette quietly suggested that the money might be found somewhere else. Bouthemont immediately understood that she might help him. Before they could discuss the idea further, Mouret arrived with Vallagnosc.
　　Mouret looked tired and nervous. Henriette noticed this at once and understood that Denise was still causing him pain. Mouret himself seemed uncomfortable because he had brought Vallagnosc with him rather than coming alone. He also admitted too quickly that he had expected Baron Hartmann to be there. Henriette was hurt because this reminded her that business, not love, was now one of the main reasons for his visits.
　　Then a servant quietly told Henriette that the young woman from the Paradise had arrived with the coat. Henriette deliberately ordered that Denise should wait in the dark entrance room instead of being shown into a comfortable room. Madame Marty and Madame de Boves arrived soon afterwards and noticed her waiting there. Henriette laughed and described Denise as only a shop girl who had come to alter a badly fitting coat. Mouret began to suspect what Henriette was planning.
　　Denise remained standing for half an hour. There was a bench, but pride would not allow her to sit down because she understood that the delay was meant as an insult. Each time the drawing-room door opened she could see the rich furniture, bright light, and elegant guests inside. At last she also saw Mouret. He recognized her, and from that moment he became increasingly anxious about what Henriette intended to do.
　　While Denise waited, the guests began discussing women who worked in department stores. Bouthemont explained that their social position was unusual. They lived and worked among luxury and often learned the clothes and manners of middle-class women, yet they remained employees who could lose their jobs quickly. They therefore seemed to stand somewhere between working women and ladies. According to Bouthemont, this uncertain position created many of the problems in their lives.
　　The female customers answered much less kindly. Madame de Boves complained that saleswomen could be rude and difficult. The discussion revealed a hidden struggle between customers and employees: the saleswomen sometimes envied wealthy ladies, while poorer customers disliked being served by young women dressed more elegantly than themselves. Henriette finally called the whole group of shop girls worthless. Mouret controlled himself and did not answer her anger.
　　Baron Hartmann then drew Mouret aside to discuss another expansion of The Ladies’ Paradise. Mouret wanted the store to occupy the remaining part of the block and build a magnificent new front on the Rue du Dix-Décembre. Hartmann’s company controlled the land, and its directors still thought the project was too expensive. Mouret argued that the great new entrance itself would be an advertisement in stone. He believed that the wider street would bring enormous numbers of new customers.
　　Mouret again explained the extraordinary growth of his business. The store had once begun with about five hundred thousand francs and yearly sales of two million. Now its capital was about six million francs, while annual sales had reached eighty million. The same money was being used to buy and sell goods again and again throughout the year. Hartmann finally promised to push the project strongly before the other directors.
　　But Hartmann also understood that Mouret was no longer the complete master of women that he pretended to be. He joked that women were finally taking their revenge. Mouret had built an empire by studying their desires and making money from them, but now one woman was controlling his thoughts. Hartmann warned that Mouret might lose something more important than money. He had already guessed that Denise was the cause of his suffering.
　　Henriette suddenly returned and asked Mouret to help with the badly fitting coat. He followed her through the bedroom into the dressing room. Denise stood there holding the garment, pale but calm. Henriette put it on and ordered Denise to pin and adjust it again and again. She wanted to reduce Denise to the position of a servant while Mouret watched.
　　Denise moved from one shoulder to the other and even had to kneel to pull the coat into shape. Henriette complained about every adjustment and spoke to her sharply. Twice Mouret tried to end the scene by offering to replace the coat completely. Henriette refused because fixing the coat was not her real purpose. She was watching Mouret’s face and hoping that Denise would finally show pain or anger.
　　Then Henriette tried another weapon. She spoke to Mouret with the easy familiarity of a lover and asked him to find pins in her bedroom, pretending that he knew the room well. She made him stand beside her and touch her shoulders while Denise continued working. Denise’s hands began to tremble. She wondered whether Mouret himself had helped arrange this scene as revenge because she had refused him.
　　Mouret understood exactly what Henriette was doing. Instead of turning him against Denise, however, the humiliation made his love stronger. Denise remained silent and continued doing her work with dignity even though she was clearly suffering. Mouret wanted desperately to tell her that Henriette no longer mattered to him. For the first time, his former love affairs seemed cheap beside the feelings he now had for Denise.
　　At last Denise said that she had done everything possible. Henriette complained again that the coat made her look too large. Exhausted and hurt, Denise made one mistake: she calmly said that Henriette was rather stout and that the store could not make her thinner than she really was. Henriette exploded with anger and called the remark insolent. For a moment the difference between rich customer and saleswoman disappeared, and they faced each other simply as two jealous women.
　　Henriette then demanded that Mouret punish Denise. When he remained silent, she went too far and called Denise his mistress and a creature from the gutter. Two tears appeared in Denise’s eyes, but she still did not answer the insult. That finally decided Mouret. He took Denise’s hands and told her to leave the house immediately and forget everything that had happened there.
　　Mouret folded the coat himself and gave it to Denise to take back. He told Henriette to buy another one somewhere else. Denise left without speaking, but relief and happiness brought colour back to her face. Henriette’s trap had completely failed: instead of humiliating Denise in Mouret’s eyes, she had forced him to show openly which woman mattered to him. When they were alone, Henriette asked painfully, “So it is that girl you love?”
　　Mouret answered simply, “Yes.” Henriette collapsed into a chair and began to cry, while Mouret quietly left the room. He later told Vallagnosc that he had never felt so alive, even though love was causing him terrible pain. Money could not give him what he wanted, but he still believed that action, struggle, and creation gave life its meaning. He promised himself that somehow he would win Denise.
　　Before leaving, Mouret also spoke privately with Bouthemont and told him that the Paradise’s directors had decided to dismiss him. Bouthemont hid his anger, but almost immediately he told Henriette that he would open his own great store near the Opera and call it The Four Seasons. Henriette promised her support and introduced the plan to Baron Hartmann, asking him to help find the money. Hartmann did not promise anything, but the idea of creating a competitor to the Paradise interested him enough to investigate it.
　　Soon everyone in the drawing room was again talking pleasantly, as if nothing serious had happened. Henriette returned with a calm smile and hid her tears so well that most of the guests noticed nothing. Only Hartmann understood that she had been defeated. Watching Mouret speak cheerfully about business, the banker remembered the quiet young woman who had waited alone in the dark entrance room. Henriette had failed to defeat her; Denise, with no money or social power, had become the one woman Mouret could neither buy nor control.


Part 18 — The Empire Grows

　　On September 25, work began on the new front of The Ladies’ Paradise in the Rue du Dix-Décembre. Mouret celebrated the laying of the first stone as if it were a public victory. The employees received extra money, and that evening there was game and champagne for dinner. The new entrance would face the wide modern street and complete Mouret’s dream of a great palace of commerce. Yet behind his happy appearance, he was still suffering because Denise continued to refuse him.
　　The next day Clara began joking about Colomban in front of Denise. She knew that the young man across the street was in love with her and thought it amusing to encourage him. Denise became angry because Geneviève was already seriously ill from unhappiness. When a customer arrived, Denise ordered Clara to stop talking and attend to her work. Clara obeyed immediately, because Denise now had real authority in the department.
　　Pauline noticed the scene and laughed. She told Denise that she could become “queen” of the whole store if she wished. Pauline herself had married Baugé at the end of August, but marriage created new problems at work. The managers believed that husbands and wives working together could distract one another, so Pauline sometimes pretended not to know Baugé when they met in the galleries. She was always afraid that Bourdoncle might dismiss her.
　　Pauline also told Denise that one word from her could now change almost anything in the Paradise. Denise did not like hearing this, but she knew there was some truth in it. Madame Aurélie treated her with increasing respect, and even Jouve behaved very politely whenever he saw her. Employees who had once laughed at Denise now watched her carefully. Her quiet rise to power had begun.
　　Bourdoncle alone continued to resist her. He believed that Denise was dangerous because Mouret’s love for her might weaken the business. Bourdoncle could not believe that she refused Mouret honestly; he thought she must be using a clever plan to make the owner completely dependent on her. He therefore ordered Jouve to watch Denise and discover whether she secretly met other men. If they could catch her breaking the rules, Bourdoncle hoped to dismiss her again.
　　Rumours were easy to find. People claimed that Denise had once loved Hutin and might still meet him secretly. Others said that Deloche was her lover because they often stopped and talked together. No one had any proof, but gossip moved quickly through the store. Bourdoncle especially hoped that Jouve would catch Denise and Deloche alone together.
　　Mouret meanwhile could think of almost nothing except Denise. He remembered the thin young country girl who had first entered his store in heavy shoes and a poor black dress. At first he had hardly thought her attractive. Now a simple look or smile from her could destroy his peace for the rest of the day. He finally admitted to himself that she had conquered him completely.
　　His business day remained enormous. In the morning he signed papers and attended meetings with the directors. Later he inspected departments and met manufacturers, bankers, and businessmen who came with important plans involving millions of francs. But Denise’s face remained in his thoughts through every meeting. Mouret sometimes wondered what use his great fortune was if it could not make one young woman say yes.
　　During his inspections, the size of his empire only made this feeling stronger. In the basement, an enormous opening received goods arriving from every part of France and from foreign countries. Cases and bales flowed down like a river, while workers checked and marked them at twenty receiving tables. Silk, linen, lace, fur, and foreign decorations arrived in endless quantities. Mouret could control this great movement of goods, but he could not control Denise.
　　At the other end of the basement was the delivery department. Parcels were separated according to different parts of Paris and then carried to the waiting vans outside. Workers shouted street names and instructions while goods moved rapidly toward the city. Mouret watched the store take in merchandise at one end and send purchases out at the other. The whole system worked perfectly, yet he sometimes felt ready to abandon everything if Denise continued to refuse him.
　　The mail-order department had also grown enormously. About two hundred employees now opened letters, classified orders, collected goods, packed them, and prepared them for shipping. So many letters arrived from France and other countries that the staff no longer counted them individually; they weighed them. Some days nearly one hundred pounds of letters arrived. Orders were coming from all over Europe, but even this proof of success gave Mouret little pleasure.
　　The financial offices had become equally large. Four clerks guarded the two great safes through which eighty-eight million francs had passed during the previous year. Thirty-five employees worked in the main accounting office, and another twenty-five checked sales records and commissions. The store now employed enough people to form a small town. Its sixty-two delivery vehicles travelled throughout Paris and even into the surrounding countryside.
　　In earlier years, daily sales figures had excited Mouret. Now even a day bringing eight or nine hundred thousand francs could leave him cold. He looked at the numbers and immediately thought of Denise. Money had once seemed like proof of his power. Now it only reminded him that his greatest desire could not be bought.
　　Then Bourdoncle made Mouret’s suffering worse by repeating the rumours about Hutin and Deloche. Mouret pretended not to care and calmly asked for proof. But his hands trembled while he arranged the papers on his desk. After that conversation he became jealous and bad-tempered. During inspections he dismissed employees for small mistakes, and the whole store began to fear his visits.
　　One serious case gave him an excuse to release some of his anger. Mignot in the glove department was caught helping a woman steal goods. Further investigation showed that several employees had been involved in a larger system of theft, false payments, and false returns. Albert Lhomme was also connected with the affair. The management kept the scandal quiet, but Mignot was dismissed immediately and Albert disappeared from the store two days later.
　　Soon Mouret also attacked Hutin. Favier had changed the price tickets on some black velvet and claimed that Hutin had ordered the reduction. Hutin said that they had only discussed the idea and that he had given no final order. Normally the matter might have been settled quietly, but Mouret was already jealous of Hutin because of the rumours about Denise. He warned him harshly that only the management had the right to decide prices.
　　Hutin understood that Denise was probably the real cause of Mouret’s anger. Two days later he saw Denise and Deloche talking alone near the workrooms at the top of the building. Instead of confronting them, Hutin quietly told Bourdoncle where they were. Bourdoncle sent Jouve to find Mouret. At last they believed they had found the proof they had been waiting for.
　　Denise and Deloche had been talking about their home region. From a high window they looked across the glass roofs of the Paradise and remembered green fields, hedges, quiet roads, animals, and cold streams in Normandy. Below them the enormous store shook with the movement of thousands of people. For a few minutes, however, the two young employees forgot Paris and imagined the peaceful countryside of their childhood.
　　Deloche then told Denise once more that he loved her. Denise kindly reminded him that she could only be his friend. Deloche began to cry, saying that failure seemed to follow him everywhere and that he expected nothing more from life. He promised not to trouble Denise again and said that if she loved someone else and became happy, he would be happy for her. Then he kissed her hand like a brother saying goodbye to a hopeless dream.
　　At that exact moment Mouret arrived. He had been at the construction site of the new façade when Jouve came to find him. Mouret followed immediately and saw Deloche holding Denise’s hand. He ordered Denise to come to his office, where his jealousy exploded. He threatened to dismiss Deloche and accused Denise of having several lovers, including Hutin.
　　Denise was deeply hurt. She said that if Mouret really believed such things about her, she would leave The Ladies’ Paradise immediately. Mouret stopped her at the door and begged her to defend herself. Finally he lost all control and admitted again that he loved her, that he had given up his other women, and that she alone occupied his thoughts. The powerful owner who demanded perfect discipline from his employees was now begging one saleswoman not to leave him.
　　Denise at last told him that the rumours were false. Mouret immediately believed her and promised not to dismiss Deloche or the others. Then he asked the question that frightened him most: if she did not love any of those men, did she love someone else? Denise turned red and finally whispered, “Yes.” She did not tell him that the man she loved was Mouret himself.
　　Mouret sadly told her that she could leave if she wished. Denise smiled and answered that she did not want to leave now that he believed her. She told him that he should not automatically think badly of women, because many women were honest. Looking at the portrait of Madame Hédouin on the wall, Mouret suddenly felt that Denise possessed some of the same calm good sense as his dead wife. At last he told Denise, “You know I am yours. Do what you like with me,” and Denise smiled and promised that if he put himself in her hands, she would try to make him a good man.


Part 19 — Denise Changes the Paradise

　　The next day Denise was promoted again. The dress and coat department was divided, and a new children’s clothing department was created especially for her. Denise became its first-hand, the manager responsible for the whole department. Madame Aurélie was actually relieved because Denise had not taken her own position. She now treated Denise almost like an equal.
　　The promotion ended nearly all open resistance to Denise. Marguerite became second-hand and praised her new manager. Even Clara lowered her head before Denise’s success, while Jouve became extremely polite whenever he spoke to her. Hutin began to fear what Denise’s influence might mean for his own position. Bourdoncle, who had fought against her for so long, finally understood that he could no longer stop her rise.
　　Denise did not use her new power cruelly. She remembered too clearly how it felt to be poor, frightened, and laughed at. She thanked people warmly when they showed her kindness and tried to treat her employees fairly. Many workers began to like her for this reason. Her authority came less from fear than from the calm way she listened and made decisions.
　　The children’s department suited her perfectly. On busy days it was filled with little boys and girls trying on coats, dresses, sailor suits, and other clothes. Some children cried, some laughed, and others stared proudly at themselves in the mirrors. Denise kept sweets in her pockets for unhappy children and sometimes served the smallest ones herself. Among them, she felt almost as if she were back with Pépé.
　　Denise now spoke with Mouret often. She had to visit his office to report on her department, but their meetings frequently became long conversations. Mouret enjoyed listening to her ideas, and Denise jokingly reminded him that she had promised to “make a good man” of him. She had spent enough time inside the Paradise to see that its great success also created serious human problems.
　　The problem that troubled her most was the insecure life of the employees. Denise could never forget her first months in the store. New saleswomen arrived with painful feet and tears in their eyes, but they had to hide their misery inside neat silk uniforms. Older employees often treated beginners badly because they had once suffered in exactly the same way. The harsh system seemed to make even kind people harder.
　　Denise had also seen how quickly workers could be thrown away. During busy seasons the Paradise hired large numbers of people, and during quiet months many were suddenly dismissed. A person could work hard for years and still lose everything in a few minutes. Denise asked whether this constant use and destruction of human beings was really good for the store. She did not speak only from pity; she argued that unstable workers also made the business less efficient.
　　Many employees did not remain healthy for long. Some became seriously ill before the age of forty from exhaustion, long hours, poor air, and the constant pressure of work. Others disappeared into poverty after dismissal, and some women ended up on the street when they could no longer find respectable work. The luckier ones married and went to work in small provincial shops. Denise asked whether a business could really call itself successful if it consumed human lives every year.
　　The women employees had another difficulty. By working among wealthy customers, they learned fashionable speech, clothes, and manners, so they sometimes appeared almost middle class. Yet they were not ladies and possessed little real security. Their silk dresses could hide tired bodies, unpaid debts, and fear of dismissal. They existed in an uncertain social position between the working class and the comfortable middle class.
　　Denise explained her ideas to Mouret in practical terms. “A machine needs strong parts,” she argued in effect. “If you keep breaking the parts, the machine will stop and you must constantly replace them.” The store already spent money training new employees whenever experienced people disappeared. Treating workers better could therefore help both the employees and the business. Mouret laughed at some of her larger dreams but listened seriously.
　　Denise sometimes imagined a future store in which employees would receive a fair share of success according to their work and could feel sure about their future. Mouret teased her and called such ideas impossible or too close to socialism. Denise could not always explain exactly how her ideal system would work. Still, her own suffering gave her arguments a force that Mouret found difficult to ignore.
　　The first great change concerned the summer dismissals. Instead of sending away large numbers of workers every quiet season, the Paradise began giving holidays during slow periods. A kind of employee benefit fund was also planned. It would help workers when business was weak and would eventually provide pensions. The system was still only a beginning, but it gave employees something they had never possessed before: a small feeling of security.
　　More improvements followed. Lhomme was allowed to create an employee band, something he had dreamed about for years. Soon one hundred twenty workers were playing music together, and the store held a concert and dance to introduce the band. Newspapers wrote about the event, so even Bourdoncle had to admit that the reform also created excellent publicity. Once again, kindness and business interest worked together.
　　A recreation room was opened for male employees, with billiards, chess, and other games. Evening classes offered English, German, grammar, arithmetic, and geography. Later the workers could even take riding and fencing lessons. A library of ten thousand books was created for them. The Paradise was beginning to provide not only work but also education and leisure.
　　Medical and personal services appeared as well. A doctor gave free consultations, while employees gained access to baths, hairdressing, and refreshment rooms. The huge store was becoming almost a city inside Paris. People could work, eat, live, study, read, exercise, and receive medical help without leaving the building. What had once been only a shop was becoming a complete social world.
　　The employees understood that Denise was responsible for many of these changes. At first some had believed she refused Mouret only because she wanted more money or a higher position. Now they began to realize that she was still refusing him even though she already possessed great influence. Their opinion changed completely. They admired the young woman who could make the powerful owner listen to the needs of ordinary workers.
　　Denise sometimes found this strange. She remembered arriving in Paris in a poor dress, frightened by the enormous store and feeling smaller than a grain beneath a machine. Now employees smiled when she passed and believed that one word from her could change the Paradise. She had never planned to become powerful. Her strength had grown from patience, honesty, and her refusal to pretend that wrong things were right.
　　One of her most important victories concerned Pauline. Pauline was now expecting a baby and was terrified because the Paradise had previously dismissed women when they became pregnant. Bourdoncle discovered her condition after a messenger accidentally knocked against her. He immediately suggested that she should be sent away, officially because she needed country air. Denise heard about the plan before Mouret made his final decision.
　　Denise spoke to Mouret and argued that dismissing pregnant married women was both cruel and bad business. Many Paradise customers were mothers and wives; how would they feel if they learned that the store punished its own employees for becoming mothers? Mouret agreed. The Paradise decided that married saleswomen would receive care at the store’s expense when necessary. Pauline kept her job.
　　Denise visited Pauline in the infirmary, where her friend thanked her again and again. Baugé also tried to express his gratitude, treating Denise with almost embarrassing respect. After he left, Pauline asked the question that had troubled her for months. If Denise had so much influence over Mouret, why did she continue making him suffer? Did she really dislike him?
　　Denise suddenly buried her face in Pauline’s pillow and confessed the truth. “I love him,” she whispered. Pauline was astonished and immediately asked whether Denise had been refusing Mouret in order to force him to marry her. Denise sat up in shock. She insisted that she had never planned such a thing and had never even allowed herself to hope for marriage.
　　Pauline gently explained that everyone else believed exactly that. From outside, Denise’s behaviour looked like a clever plan: she refused Mouret, became more powerful, and waited until he offered marriage. Denise began to cry because this was the opposite of the truth. She had never wanted to trap him. She only wanted to love him without selling herself or accepting a relationship that she could not respect.
　　Denise now thought seriously about leaving the Paradise. If everyone believed that she was using Mouret, perhaps departure was the only way to end the gossip. She asked for nothing from him, not money, not a title, and not even marriage. She wanted to live honestly with her own happiness and pain. The thought of leaving hurt her deeply, but she began to believe that she might have no other choice.
　　At that same time Mouret walked beside the nearly completed new façade in the Rue du Dix-Décembre. Stonecutters, metalworkers, painters, and decorators were finishing the building he had dreamed about for years. Crowds stopped outside to watch, and people across Paris were already talking about the coming opening. Yet Mouret looked at his great commercial palace and felt almost nothing. Without Denise, even this triumph seemed like a child’s wall built from sand.
　　He returned to his office close to tears. For months he had tried money, promotion, gifts, and patience, but Denise continued to say no. Now another idea entered his mind more clearly than before. Perhaps there was only one thing left that he could offer her: marriage. For the first time, the man who had always believed that women existed to be conquered began to wonder whether he himself would have to change completely in order to deserve the woman he loved.


Part 20 — Geneviève

　　One morning in November, a servant from the Old Elbeuf came to Denise’s department with bad news. Geneviève had become much weaker during the night and wanted to see her cousin immediately. Colomban had recently disappeared from the Baudu household and had sent a farewell letter instead of returning to work. He had followed Clara, leaving behind both his promised marriage and the failing shop. Geneviève had taken to her bed soon afterwards.
　　Denise crossed the street at once. The Old Elbeuf was now almost completely empty of life. There was no assistant, and even the servant might soon be replaced by a woman who came only to clean. The goods lay untouched on the shelves, growing dusty and old. Madame Baudu sat behind the pay desk as if she were guarding a shop that had already died.
　　The seventy thousand francs from the sale of the Baudus’ country house had disappeared in less than two years. Baudu had tried to fight the Paradise by reducing prices and increasing his stock, but every effort had failed. The great store now sold men’s cloth, hunting materials, flannel, and many other goods that had once supported the Old Elbeuf. Baudu had even begun thinking of borrowing money against the old family building. The business seemed only days away from its final collapse.
　　Baudu came downstairs from Geneviève’s room looking exhausted. He blamed himself for not allowing her to marry Colomban earlier. He had wanted to give the young couple a healthy business without debt, and so he had delayed the marriage again and again. Now he wondered whether his pride had helped destroy his daughter. Denise tried to stop him from blaming himself and told him that Colomban had never truly loved Geneviève.
　　Denise explained that she had spoken directly to Colomban before he left. He had known that Geneviève was suffering, but this had not stopped him from following Clara. Madame Baudu silently agreed. Baudu finally admitted that the Paradise had destroyed almost everything he cared about. “They ruined our business,” he said bitterly, “and now one of their women is killing our daughter.”
　　A knocking sound came from upstairs. Geneviève had awakened and was frightened to find herself alone. When Denise entered, she saw how terribly thin her cousin had become. The family had moved her to a small room at the back because the sight of The Ladies’ Paradise from the front bedroom upset her too much. Under the blankets, Geneviève’s body seemed almost to have disappeared.
　　Geneviève smiled when she saw Denise and held her tightly. Then she looked at her father until he understood that she wanted to speak with Denise alone. After Baudu left, she asked the question that had been troubling her. Was Colomban really with Clara? Denise tried to avoid answering, but Geneviève insisted on hearing the truth.
　　Denise finally told her what people at the Paradise were saying. Clara had already begun to grow tired of Colomban, while he followed her everywhere like a servant. He was also said to be looking for work at another large department store. Denise tried to give Geneviève some hope by saying that Colomban might still return. Geneviève quietly answered that she knew everything was over.
　　Geneviève then said that she herself was dying. When Denise protested, the sick girl showed how thin and weak her body had become. She no longer believed that careful nursing could save her. What troubled her most was not even that Colomban had left her, but that he was not happy with Clara either. Before Denise went away, Geneviève asked her to tell Colomban that she forgave him.
　　“Kiss me once more,” she said, “because it is the last time.” Denise kissed her and still tried to speak hopefully. Geneviève only smiled. She asked Denise not to come the next day but to visit on Sunday instead. The following morning, at six o’clock, Geneviève died after several hours of terrible suffering.
　　The funeral took place on a dark Saturday. White cloth covered the front of the Old Elbeuf, and candles burned beside the narrow coffin. The small shopkeepers of the neighbourhood gathered in large numbers. They believed Geneviève was another victim of The Ladies’ Paradise and wanted the funeral to become a public sign of sympathy for the Baudus. The little shops seemed to unite for one last time against their enormous enemy.
　　Bédoré and his sister came, as did the Vanpouille brothers. Mademoiselle Tatin and Quinette also returned, although both had already lost their businesses and were now working for other people elsewhere in Paris. Toy sellers, furniture dealers, and other struggling shopkeepers stood together in black clothes. Across the street, the windows of the Paradise remained bright and attractive. The great store continued working as if it did not know that anyone had died.
　　Bourras also closed his umbrella shop and joined the mourners. His own business looked almost ruined now. The bright paint and mirrors he had once added were dirty and broken, while damp had returned through the walls. Yet the little building still remained pressed against the side of the Paradise. It was the last stubborn piece of the block that Mouret had not been able to absorb.
　　When the hearse finally arrived, it almost collided with one of the Paradise delivery vans. The van passed quickly with its fine horses and shining name panels. Bourras watched it with anger. Then Geneviève’s coffin began its slow journey through the muddy streets, while Baudu followed with a heavy step behind it. Jean walked close to him in case he needed help.
　　After the church service, the funeral procession passed The Ladies’ Paradise again. This time the scene seemed almost like a challenge. The white coffin moved slowly past windows filled with red cloth and bright carpets. The store was full of colour, movement, and business, while Geneviève was being carried toward the cemetery. To the small traders, she seemed like the first dead victim of a war they were all losing.
　　Denise became too upset to continue walking and entered one of the mourning coaches. Bourras eventually climbed in beside her because his knees could no longer carry him. He told her not to be afraid of him. “It isn’t you we hate,” he said. Then, as the coach moved slowly through Paris, he began describing how completely the Paradise was defeating the whole neighbourhood.
　　Bourras said that the store now employed about twenty-seven hundred people and might reach one hundred million francs in sales that year. Robineau was nearly ruined, while Bédoré and the Vanpouilles were also close to failure. Worse still, the Paradise was planning new departments for flowers, hats, perfume, boots, and shoes. Bourras began naming the small traders who would probably be destroyed next.
　　Grognet the perfume seller was in danger. Naud’s boot shop might not survive. Lacassagne, who sold feathers and flowers, and Madame Chadeuil, famous for hats, might also disappear. To Bourras, there seemed to be no natural end to the Paradise’s expansion. If the department store could sell everything, then every independent shop in the neighbourhood could eventually become unnecessary.
　　Yet Bourras still refused to surrender his own building. He had recently won a legal case that stopped Mouret from constructing a room beneath his shop. The Paradise wanted to connect departments underground, but the judges had decided that this could not be called ordinary repair work. Bourras was proud that one old man could still block the giant store. “He says yes,” Bourras told Denise, “and I say no.”
　　Denise begged him to stop fighting before he lost everything. Bourras answered by comparing his refusal with her own refusal of Mouret. If she had the right to say no when someone tried to buy her, then he had the right to say no when Mouret tried to buy his house. Denise could not answer that argument. She understood that the old man’s resistance was unreasonable in business terms, but she also understood the pride behind it.
　　At the cemetery, Bourras told Denise that the whole old neighbourhood was being buried with Geneviève. The small traders stood around the grave with tired, unhealthy faces. Baudu stared into the hole where his daughter’s coffin disappeared. White roses fell onto it. For Bourras, the burial seemed to mark the end of the old style of trade itself.
　　That afternoon Denise returned to the Old Elbeuf with Pépé. The shop was closed, and Baudu and his wife sat together in the dark dining room without even turning on the gas. Their daughter was dead, Colomban was gone, and their business was almost finished. Pépé kissed their cold cheeks, but neither of them cried. Denise felt that the old house itself was slowly becoming a tomb.
　　That evening Mouret called Denise to his office to discuss a new children’s costume. Still shaken by the funeral, she immediately began speaking about Bourras instead. She begged Mouret to let the old man keep his shop. Mouret became angry and said that Bourras’s tiny broken building was the only part of the whole block that still prevented the Paradise from completing its conquest.
　　Mouret reminded Denise that he had once offered Bourras as much as one hundred thousand francs. He believed that this was more than fair. The Paradise could not stop expanding simply because one old man refused every offer. Bourdoncle and the board had now taken control of the matter, and Mouret said that events would have to continue. Denise understood that Bourras’s last battle was approaching.
　　Mouret then spoke more gently about the Baudus. He said that they were honest people but had destroyed themselves by refusing to change with the times. In his view, the rise of large stores was not simply his personal decision; the whole age was moving in that direction. If he had closed the Paradise, another great store would have appeared in its place. Modern business was growing while the old system was dying.
　　Denise could not completely disagree with him. She believed in the new forms of trade, but Geneviève’s grave and the Baudus’ dark room remained in her mind. That night she dreamed that Bourras’s house collapsed, then Robineau’s shop, then the other little stores of the neighbourhood. She heard walls falling one after another. Progress seemed necessary, but its sound was the sound of people losing their homes, work, and hopes.
　　The next morning Denise spoke to Mouret again. She could not stop the destruction of the old businesses, but she wanted the people who lost everything to receive some fair help. Mouret promised that when the Baudus and Bourras finally fell, he would accept whatever reasonable compensation Denise proposed. It was not enough to save the old world. But Denise hoped that, at least, she might make its end less cruel.


Part 21 — The Last Small Shops

　　In the weeks after Geneviève’s funeral, Denise visited the Old Elbeuf almost every afternoon. Madame Baudu seemed to be slowly fading away. She said she did not feel pain, only a terrible tiredness, as if she wanted to sleep all the time. Baudu moved through the dark shop without knowing how to help her. The family and the business appeared to be dying together.
　　One afternoon Denise was returning from the Baudus when she heard a cry near the Place Gaillon. A crowd suddenly gathered around an omnibus that had stopped in the street. People said that a man had deliberately thrown himself beneath the wheels. When Denise pushed closer, she recognized him immediately. It was Robineau.
　　The driver had managed to turn the horses aside, so Robineau had not been killed. His legs had been caught under the wheels, however, and he had lost consciousness. Denise gave the police his name and address. Four men carried him into a nearby chemist’s shop while someone went to find a doctor. Denise decided to hurry ahead and prepare Madame Robineau.
　　The silk shop looked almost as weak as its owner. The great battle against Paris Delight had ended in complete defeat. Mouret had reduced the famous silk again, this time to four francs nineteen sous a metre, and Robineau could no longer continue the price war. Bills were unpaid, money had disappeared, and bankruptcy was now almost certain. Madame Robineau was waiting anxiously for her husband to return.
　　Denise tried to speak gently. She said Robineau had been hurt in an accident but was alive and not believed to be in immediate danger. Then the stretcher appeared outside, followed by a crowd of curious people. Madame Robineau became white and rushed toward her husband. Denise quickly lowered the metal shutters so that strangers could no longer stare into the shop.
　　When Robineau regained consciousness, he confessed the truth to his wife. Earlier that day he had learned that bankruptcy notices would soon be posted publicly. He had imagined the Paradise laughing at his failure and felt that the enormous store was crushing him. When the omnibus approached, he had deliberately thrown himself beneath it. Now, seeing his wife crying beside him, he immediately regretted what he had done.
　　Madame Robineau told him that losing the money did not matter. The sixty thousand francs they had invested had been hers, and Robineau had tortured himself because he believed he had destroyed her future. She told him that she did not care about being rich. If they could remain together, they could live simply somewhere else and begin again.
　　The doctor finally arrived and discovered that only Robineau’s left leg was broken above the ankle. The injury was painful but not expected to be dangerous. Then Gaujean appeared with the final business news: bankruptcy could no longer be avoided. Robineau told him that their attempt to fight the Paradise had been a mistake. They had accepted modern methods but had tried to defeat a system much stronger than themselves.
　　Gaujean slowly agreed. He admitted that manufacturers also had to change rather than simply complain about large stores. If customers wanted low prices, producers would need better organization and new methods. He had already begun trying to repair his relationship with The Ladies’ Paradise. Denise encouraged him to speak directly to Mouret, who cared more about business than old anger.
　　In January another death came to the Baudus. Madame Baudu had been too weak to go downstairs for two weeks. From her bed she spent hour after hour staring through the window at The Ladies’ Paradise. Baudu sometimes tried to close the curtains, but she always stopped him. She seemed determined to look at the great store until the very end.
　　On the day she died, bright sunlight fell across the Paradise while the Baudus’ bedroom remained in shadow. The great windows opposite glittered with business and movement. Madame Baudu had lost her customers, her daughter, and finally almost all desire to live. Her eyes slowly became dark, but even after death they remained open toward the store across the street.
　　Once again the ruined shopkeepers followed a funeral. The Vanpouilles were struggling with bills, Bédoré was ill from anxiety, and several other traders looked completely exhausted. Quinette and Mademoiselle Tatin had already disappeared from business. New victims were now being named: Grognet the perfume seller, Madame Chadeuil the hat seller, Lacassagne the flower seller, and Naud the boot seller. The Paradise had moved into their trades too.
　　Denise herself was exhausted. She had put Pépé into school, while Jean was now desperate to marry the daughter of a wealthy pastry cook. Mouret gave Denise as much time as she needed to help her family. Then another piece of news arrived. Bourras had finally been forced out of his little umbrella shop.
　　The Paradise had acquired several unpaid bills connected with Bourras. Using these debts, its lawyers obtained a bankruptcy order, and the remaining lease was sold by the court. Mouret bought it for only five hundred francs. The old man who had once refused one hundred thousand francs had now lost the same place for almost nothing. Police were needed to remove him from the building.
　　Even then Bourras had refused to leave completely. After his goods and furniture were removed, he remained sleeping in one corner of the empty house. Workmen began removing the roof above him. Slates disappeared, ceilings fell, and walls cracked, but the old man still stayed. Only when the police returned did he finally walk away.
　　The next morning Denise found him standing across the street, watching the demolition. The building was completely open now. Through the empty windows she could see the dark staircase and the little rooms where she had once lived in poverty. On part of her old ceiling, she could still see the name “Ernestine,” burned there long ago with a candle flame. The sight brought back painful memories.
　　Workmen attacked one wall at its base. Suddenly there was a terrible cracking sound, and everyone ran into the street. The wall fell and pulled the rest of the weak building down with it. In a few moments there was nothing but broken wood, stone, plaster, and dust. The tiny house that had resisted the Paradise for years disappeared almost at once.
　　Bourras stared at the empty space beside The Ladies’ Paradise. He had never imagined that the end would come so quickly. The last small obstacle in the block was gone, and the great store could now expand without interruption. Denise told Bourras that he would not be abandoned and that money could be provided for him. He refused immediately.
　　“I have no needs,” Bourras told her. He still had his hands and could work, he said, and he would never accept charity from the people who had destroyed him. Denise begged him to reconsider, but he only shook his head. He told her to live happily because she was young and to allow old people to keep their own ideas.
　　Bourras looked once more at the ruins and then walked away through the crowd. Denise watched him until he disappeared around the Place Gaillon. She knew that Mouret’s victory over the block was now complete. Yet instead of feeling proud, she remembered the old man who had once given her work and food when she had almost nothing. The conquest seemed terribly expensive in human terms.
　　Denise then entered the Old Elbeuf. Baudu was completely alone in the dark shop. A cleaning woman came only twice a day to cook a little food and help with the shutters. Sometimes no customer entered for an entire day. If someone did come, Baudu was so confused that he could hardly remember where the goods were kept.
　　He walked endlessly from one end of the shop to the other. Each time he passed the pay desk, he looked at the empty chair where his wife and daughter had once sat. At the other end he looked at the old cloth growing damp and dusty on the shelves. His footsteps echoed through the house like footsteps in a tomb. The anger that had once filled him was gone.
　　Denise told him that he could not remain there forever. Baudu agreed without much emotion. No buyer had appeared for the business, so he said that one morning he would simply close the shop and leave. His creditors had decided not to force him into bankruptcy because of all the disasters he had suffered. After paying what he could, however, he would have almost nothing left.
　　Denise then mentioned an offer from Mouret. The Paradise was willing to give Baudu an easy position as an inspector with a salary of six thousand francs a year. Baudu stopped walking. “Over the road?” he asked quietly. He did not become angry; instead, he looked so deeply hurt that Denise immediately understood what she had done.
　　She imagined her uncle standing inside The Ladies’ Paradise in an inspector’s white necktie, working for the business that had destroyed his shop and family. The idea suddenly seemed cruel rather than generous. “No, uncle,” Denise said. “It would be wrong. Forgive me.” Baudu began walking again without answering.
　　Denise spent another sleepless night thinking about everything she had seen. She knew that the old form of trade could not survive simply because people loved it. The Paradise represented a new world, and even she believed that many of its changes were useful. Yet progress had brought ruined businesses, broken families, illness, and death. She could accept the change without becoming blind to the suffering left behind.
　　Denise also understood that she herself had become part of the great machine. It had once hurt her, exhausted her, dismissed her, and almost crushed her. Now the same machine had carried her upward and given her extraordinary influence. Mouret had created this force that was changing Paris, and Denise still loved him even while grieving for the people defeated by his success. The whole block now belonged to The Ladies’ Paradise, but Denise could not forget the lives that had disappeared beneath its victory.


Part 22 — The Conquered City

　　On a clear Monday in February, the new front of The Ladies’ Paradise finally opened to the public. The Rue du Dix-Décembre was still bright and new, with white buildings and some unfinished construction. From early morning, crowds gathered to stare at Mouret’s enormous new façade. After years of expansion, the Paradise now looked less like a shop than a palace built for modern trade.
　　The ground floor was mostly glass, allowing people in the street to look deep into the halls. Above it rose coloured brick, gold decoration, mosaics, statues, and the names of important manufacturing cities. At the centre stood the great new entrance. High above it, a golden group showed a woman surrounded by laughing children. Everything seemed designed to celebrate fashion, industry, and the power of buying.
　　The old gap where Bourras’s umbrella shop had once stood had completely disappeared. Builders had joined the new walls so carefully that no visitor could see where the little house had been. The Paradise now occupied the whole block without interruption. Bourras’s stubborn building, which had resisted for years, had been absorbed into the giant store as if it had never existed.
　　Across the street, the Old Elbeuf presented the opposite picture. Baudu had finally closed the shop and gone to live in a home. Its shutters were never opened now, and mud from passing vehicles had stained them. Posters slowly covered the dead front of the building. The old family shop looked like a tomb.
　　In the middle of those dirty shutters hung one enormous clean yellow poster. In letters almost two feet high, it announced the great sale at The Ladies’ Paradise. The bright advertisement stood on the closed Old Elbeuf like a flag placed on conquered land. The shop that had fought the Paradise for years was now being used to advertise its enemy.
　　The Paradise itself seemed to have turned away from the narrow old neighbourhood. Its proud new front faced the wide modern street and the brighter Paris that was growing around it. Advertisements showed the building as something almost larger than the city. In those pictures, famous monuments became tiny while the Paradise spread across the landscape. The store presented itself as the centre of a new commercial world.
　　Advertising had reached an extraordinary scale. The Paradise now spent nearly six hundred thousand francs every year on posters, newspaper advertisements, catalogues, and other forms of publicity. About four hundred thousand catalogues were distributed. More than one hundred thousand francs’ worth of cloth was cut into small samples so customers could touch the materials before ordering.
　　The new façade itself had become another advertisement. The store’s name appeared everywhere, painted, carved, and written in gold high above the roofs. For the opening, flags from French cities and foreign countries flew from the building. The whole structure seemed to shout the name of The Ladies’ Paradise across Paris. Mouret no longer waited for customers to discover his shop; he surrounded them with its image.
　　The special event that day was a great exhibition of white goods. Every window was filled with white cloth. There were mountains of sheets, curtains, handkerchiefs, cotton, muslin, and linen. Even life-sized pictures of fashionable women wore real silk and lace. People stopped outside simply to admire the displays, and their admiration quickly became a desire to enter.
　　The Paradise had also received unexpected help from the failure of a rival. Only three weeks earlier, The Four Seasons, Bouthemont’s new department store near the Opera, had burned down during the night after a gas explosion. Several female employees had escaped in their nightclothes. Bouthemont became famous for carrying several women to safety himself. The newspapers filled Paris with the story.
　　The financial loss was protected by insurance, and people even joked that the fire had become a wonderful advertisement for Bouthemont. But for the moment his store was closed, and customers returned to the Paradise. Mouret had worried about The Four Seasons because Madame Desforges and Baron Hartmann had supported it. Now chance itself seemed to have removed his strongest new competitor.
　　By three o’clock, nearly one hundred thousand customers were moving through the Paradise. Carriages filled the surrounding streets, while pedestrians crowded the pavements. Police had to control traffic outside. Inside, fifty departments now occupied the building. More than three thousand employees served the enormous crowd.
　　The great central gallery had been changed again. Bargain goods were placed near the new entrance, silk occupied the centre, and the glove department stood far away at the other end. Spiral staircases, bridges, and open halls connected the floors. New departments had appeared and older ones had been divided into smaller sections. The Paradise continued growing even after it had conquered the whole block.
　　The white exhibition covered everything. Cotton, linen, flannel, silk, ribbons, stockings, buttons, lace, curtains, and blankets all appeared in different shades of white. Muslin climbed the iron columns, while white cloth hung from staircases and bridges. Lace floated overhead like clouds or butterflies. In the centre, white curtains formed an enormous tent above the silk department.
　　The crowd moved through this white world like a dark river. Customers filled the lifts, refreshment rooms, stairways, and bridges. The building was hot from thousands of bodies, although the decorations made it look like a snowy landscape. Voices rose everywhere. The Paradise seemed less like a quiet shop than an entire city in motion.
　　Every woman who bought even the smallest article received a little bouquet of white violets. Thousands of flowers had been brought from Nice for the occasion. Soon women throughout the building carried the same sweet-smelling flowers. Once again Mouret had found a gift that was both generous and useful as advertising. The flowers made the sale feel like a celebration.
　　Employees began joking that perhaps the flowers were really for another celebration: Mouret’s marriage to Denise. The story spread quickly from counter to counter. Everyone knew that Denise had decided to leave The Ladies’ Paradise after the sale. Some employees believed she would truly go, while others placed bets that the story would end in marriage.
　　Denise herself had made no such plan. The constant gossip had become painful, and Mouret’s love placed her under pressure every day. She feared that if she remained much longer, she might finally give in to him and later regret it. She therefore wanted to rest for a month in Valognes. She had saved enough money to live without working for a while.
　　Mouret had tried to change her mind. He told her that she was leaving an excellent position and asked whether another store had offered her more money. Denise explained that there was no other position. She simply wanted to go home and rest. Mouret then remembered that she had once admitted loving someone and began to fear that she was leaving Paris to marry another man.
　　After that conversation, Mouret became cold toward her. He passed Denise in the store without appearing to notice her. Behind this calm behaviour, however, he was suffering badly. Money and power again seemed useless. One idea kept returning to him, even though he resisted it: perhaps he would have to marry her.
　　Mouret had once promised himself that he would never marry again after Madame Hédouin’s death. He had built his success partly on the idea that he belonged to all his female customers. Marriage seemed dangerous because it might destroy the image of the charming unmarried master of the Paradise. Yet Denise’s planned departure made his old beliefs feel less important. He could not decide whether his pride or his love was stronger.
　　During the sale, Mouret and Bourdoncle walked through the children’s department. Denise was helping Madame Bourdelais, whose three children were trying on white clothes. Then Denise suddenly saw Jean standing nearby with a parcel. He had married only a week before, and his wife Thérèse had sent him to exchange some articles and buy others.
　　Pépé was with him too. At twelve years old, he was already taller and stronger, though Denise still treated him like a little child. Jean had grown into a broad-shouldered young man, but Denise continued correcting his clothes and giving him practical advice. She had given Jean four thousand francs, half of her savings, to help him begin married life. Most of the rest of her money went toward Pépé’s schooling.
　　Mouret stopped behind them and watched Denise behaving like a mother toward her two brothers. He remembered seeing Pépé years earlier in the Tuileries Gardens. He noticed how strongly the brothers resembled Denise and how much she loved them. His cold manner began to break. Before leaving, he quietly asked Denise to come to his office after the store closed because he wanted to speak with her once more before she went away.
　　Denise then helped Jean with his shopping. In the coat department Madame Aurélie treated her with exaggerated kindness because she feared losing Denise’s protection. Marguerite was preparing to leave Paris and marry, while Clara had already disappeared from the Paradise. The old group that had mocked Denise when she first arrived was breaking apart. The store continued replacing people just as easily as it replaced fashions.
　　Jean and Pépé followed Denise through the white departments like children following their mother. Employees bowed to her as she passed, whispering that the two young men were her brothers. Pauline also begged Denise not to leave and jokingly asked her to arrange a promotion before she went. Denise laughed, but the affection around her made departure harder.
　　Elsewhere in the building, Madame Marty was again being carried away by the excitement of shopping. Her husband had now suffered a mental breakdown after years of financial trouble and family arguments. He imagined himself endlessly rich, discovering gold mines and mountains of precious stones. Madame Marty, however, had not stopped spending.
　　She now depended on a wealthy uncle who had come to live with her after his wife’s death. Even with her husband shut away, she moved from one new department to another and bought whatever attracted her. She purchased hats, boots, flowers, perfume, cosmetics, and other goods. A salesman again followed her with a chair piled high with packages. The collapse of her family finances had not broken the habit that the Paradise had helped create.
　　The new departments seemed endless. There were now counters for hats, boots, flowers, perfume, books, and toys, in addition to the older departments for cloth, silk, lace, furniture, and clothing. Each new department threatened another group of small shops outside. The Paradise had become the universal store that Baudu and Bourras had feared from the beginning.
　　As evening approached, the crowd still filled the white galleries. Customers carried their little bouquets of violets and moved beneath the bright cloth, bridges, and glass roof. Outside, the Old Elbeuf remained closed and dark beneath the yellow sale poster. Inside, Denise moved confidently through the enormous commercial city that had once frightened her, while knowing that the next day she intended to leave it behind.


Part 23 — Desire and Theft

　　The great sale continued through the afternoon, and every department seemed to have its own small drama. Denise moved through the building with Jean and Pépé, helping them complete Thérèse’s long list of exchanges and purchases. The two brothers were amazed by the size of the Paradise and stayed close to Denise as if they were children again. Around them, thousands of other customers moved through the white displays, stopping wherever something new caught their eyes.
　　In the underwear department, they came across Madame Boutarel. She had travelled from the south of France with her husband and daughter because the daughter was preparing to marry. The family had been shopping since morning, choosing the many things needed for the young woman’s new life. Monsieur Boutarel already looked exhausted by the experience.
　　Madame Boutarel, however, still had energy. While her daughter carefully examined underwear, the mother disappeared to try on corsets. Her husband became worried when he could not find her and demanded to know where she had gone. When employees explained that men were not allowed inside the private fitting rooms, he became angry. A small crowd gathered and laughed until Madame Boutarel finally came out.
　　Denise and her brothers continued through rooms filled with white clothing. Corsets, collars, morning dresses, petticoats, baby clothes, and wedding goods covered the counters. Everything seemed connected to marriage, home, and family. The white sale turned ordinary shopping into a dream of a new life.
　　Pauline ran over when she saw Denise. She had heard the rumours that Denise was leaving the next day and refused to believe them. She jokingly asked Denise to make her second-in-command before going. Denise laughed and made no promise, but the conversation reminded her again how many people inside the Paradise now depended on her influence.
　　As Denise passed from one department to another, employees bowed and watched her. Some were already making new bets about whether she would really leave. Jean and Pépé attracted attention too, because everyone quickly learned that they were her brothers. The three of them looked so similar that whispers followed them along the counters. Years earlier Denise had entered the store lost and frightened; now the whole building seemed to know her.
　　Madame Desforges was also wandering through the Paradise with Madame Guibal. She had once promised herself that she would never buy anything there again after her break with Mouret. Yet the great displays slowly defeated that promise. In the Japanese department, she finally bought a carved ivory object for ninety francs. Even anger could not completely protect her from the store’s attractions.
　　Madame Marty was even less able to resist. She had already spent two hours moving through the new departments with her daughter Valentine. Every new counter seemed to demand a purchase. Hats, boots, flowers, cosmetics, perfume, and small decorations collected around her one after another. Behind her, a salesman dragged the familiar chair covered with parcels.
　　The tragedy of Monsieur Marty seemed far away from her while she shopped. Her husband was still shut away after his mental breakdown, and an uncle was now helping the family financially. When Madame Desforges asked about him, Madame Marty became uncomfortable for only a moment. Then she saw another beautiful display and immediately forgot the painful subject.
　　The new flower department stopped her completely. Artificial white roses, lilies, apple blossoms, and other flowers rose in a great display beneath the glass roof. White feathers appeared above them like clouds. Madame Marty decided at once that she needed a branch of apple blossom and a colourful little bird for decoration. Her desire moved faster than any thought about money.
　　Then she hurried toward the new perfume department. A silver fountain continuously poured scented violet water into a basin, and customers dipped their handkerchiefs into it. Bottles, creams, powders, brushes, combs, and other beauty products filled the shelves. Madame Marty added lotions, cosmetics, and other things to her purchases. She seemed unable to pass a new department without buying something from it.
　　Yet the most dangerous temptation that day was waiting in the lace department. Madame de Boves had been moving slowly through the store with Blanche while Inspector Jouve secretly followed her. He had watched her before and did not trust her behaviour. The Countess appeared calm and proud, but her attention stayed fixed on expensive lace.
　　Madame de Boves asked Deloche to show her real Alençon lace. She rejected the cheaper pieces and demanded more expensive ones. Soon the counter was covered with lace worth hundreds or even thousands of francs. Deloche became nervous because employees had been warned not to display too many valuable goods at once. Still, Madame de Boves’s confident manner made it difficult for him to refuse.
　　She then asked to see another kind of lace. Deloche turned away for a moment to open a drawer. Blanche, standing nearby, suddenly saw her mother push some Alençon lace into the sleeve of her coat. Blanche did not cry out. Instead, she moved closer as if she wanted to hide her mother’s action from the people around them.
　　Jouve appeared immediately. Speaking quietly so that the other customers would not notice, he asked Madame de Boves to follow him. At first she demanded to know why. Jouve simply repeated the request. After a moment she recovered her proud manner and walked beside him as if nothing unusual had happened.
　　Bourdoncle was waiting in his office. Because Madame de Boves belonged to an important family, he treated her with extreme politeness. He asked her to return the lace. The Countess became furious and said that such an accusation was impossible. She reminded him of her husband’s high public position and threatened to complain to powerful people.
　　Bourdoncle remained calm. When she continued denying everything, he said that two women would have to search her. Madame de Boves boldly agreed, still claiming that the store had made a terrible mistake. Two saleswomen came from another department. Bourdoncle and Jouve left the room while the search was carried out.
　　The result was much worse than anyone outside the office knew. The saleswomen found twelve yards of expensive Alençon lace hidden in her sleeve. They also found a handkerchief, a fan, and a cravat. Together the stolen lace was worth about fourteen thousand francs. This was clearly not a small accident or a single forgotten article.
　　Madame de Boves had been stealing like this for about a year. At first, her husband had given her very little money, while she was surrounded by beautiful and expensive things that she could not buy. Her desire for luxury had grown stronger and stronger. Later, even when her husband began giving her more money, the habit did not disappear. She now stole even when her pockets were full of money, because the danger and excitement had themselves become a pleasure.
　　It had become almost like a sickness. The great stores placed endless beautiful things before her eyes and constantly awakened desires that had once remained unsatisfied. Each time she entered the Paradise, those desires became stronger. She knew that she was risking her name, her husband’s position, and her whole comfortable life, yet this danger only increased the excitement. The store had tempted her for so long that at last stealing itself had become one more desire she could no longer easily resist.
　　Madame de Boves still refused to admit that she had stolen anything. Bourdoncle told her that the store was willing to avoid a public scandal because of her family. In return, however, she had to sign a written statement admitting the theft. He also said that the paper could later be returned if she gave two thousand francs to the poor. She shouted that she would rather die than sign.
　　Bourdoncle calmly said that otherwise he would call the police. Madame de Boves moved from anger to tears, then begged both men to show mercy. Nothing changed their decision. Finally she sat down and wrote the confession with a shaking hand. Afterwards she immediately recovered some of her pride and demanded to leave.
　　The incident also destroyed Deloche’s position. Bourdoncle decided that he was too weak with customers and had already allowed too many goods to disappear from his counter. He ordered Deloche’s dismissal. Once again the great machine protected itself by removing the employee who seemed unable to perform his part. Deloche did not yet know that his years at the Paradise were about to end.
　　Outside the office, Blanche was terrified. Vallagnosc found her and asked what had happened. Unable to invent another explanation, she whispered that her mother had been stealing lace. Vallagnosc was horrified, especially when he realized that Blanche had seen the theft and had tried to hide it.
　　Mouret soon learned what had happened. Vallagnosc complained bitterly that his marriage had brought him into a family of thieves. Mouret could not help remembering how his friend had always claimed that life meant nothing and that human behaviour was naturally bad. Now that shame had touched Vallagnosc personally, all his calm philosophy disappeared. Mouret advised him simply to avoid a public scandal and take Madame de Boves home.
　　When Madame de Boves came out, she accepted Vallagnosc’s arm with her usual proud appearance. As she passed Mouret, she even claimed that the store had apologized to her for a mistake. Then the family disappeared into the crowd. Almost no one around them knew what had happened only minutes earlier.
　　Mouret walked away alone. The theft made him think again about the strange power of his store. He had built a machine that created desire through displays, low prices, advertisements, gifts, easy returns, and endless new goods. Women who entered freely often left exhausted, carrying things they had never planned to buy. Madame de Boves’s theft seemed to him like the darkest form of the same conquest.
　　Then he thought of Denise. She was completely different from the customers he had learned to control. He had offered her money, comfort, promotion, and power, yet she had refused everything that did not agree with her own sense of right and wrong. The woman who owned almost nothing had proved stronger than the millionaire who could influence thousands of customers.
　　Evening slowly entered the great galleries. One by one, electric lamps came on, and the whole white exhibition began to shine even more strongly. Muslin, linen, lace, silk, and white curtains reflected the light until the central hall looked almost unreal. Women moved through the brightness carrying their small bouquets of violets, still buying as the day approached its end.
　　From the upper level, Mouret looked down on the crowd he had conquered. He saw Madame Marty still wandering among the goods, Madame Bourdelais delayed by her children, Madame de Boves walking proudly after her theft, and Madame Desforges buying despite all her anger toward him. For years he had believed this power over women was his greatest victory. Now the only woman who mattered to him was the one he had failed to conquer.
　　Mouret walked to a window and watched customers leaving in carriages that carried the Paradise’s goods across Paris. His name shone above the roof, and the enormous building seemed capable of swallowing the whole city. Yet at the moment of his greatest commercial victory, he suddenly felt ready to surrender. Denise was leaving the next day, and he understood that he could no longer hide behind pride, money, or business. He finally decided that before she went, he would make one last attempt to keep her.


Part 24 — The Million and Denise

　　Six o’clock approached, but The Ladies’ Paradise was still full of noise. Customers were finally leaving, while employees began folding the mountains of goods that had been pulled from shelves and counters. The great white exhibition still shone under the electric lights. Mouret had returned to his office and was waiting for Denise, unable to sit still for more than a few moments.
　　Every sound in the corridor made his heart beat faster. He went to the door again and again, thinking that Denise might be coming. Then he heard a different sound, a deep murmur moving slowly through the store. Employees were talking excitedly as someone approached. Mouret opened the door and looked out.
　　It was Lhomme carrying the day’s receipts. There was so much money that he could not carry it alone. Two messengers followed him with enormous bags of coins over their shoulders, while Lhomme himself carried notes, gold, and more bags hanging from his neck. Employees watched them pass as if a great treasure were moving through the building.
　　At last Lhomme reached Mouret’s office. He was sweating and breathing heavily, but he proudly announced the figure: one million two hundred forty-seven thousand francs and nineteen sous. For years Mouret had dreamed of taking more than a million francs in a single day. Now the impossible number had finally become real.
　　The money was placed across his desk. Notes, gold, silver, and copper covered the papers and almost surrounded the ink bottle. It was the result of nearly a hundred thousand customers buying through one extraordinary day. In earlier years Mouret would have looked at it with joy. Now he only said impatiently, “A million. Very good. Put it there.”
　　Lhomme left disappointed that the great achievement had produced so little excitement. A moment later Bourdoncle entered, smiling broadly. He was delighted that the store had finally passed the million-franc mark. But when he looked at Mouret’s face, he understood that his employer was thinking about something completely different. Denise was still more important than all the money on the table.
　　Bourdoncle had changed greatly during the last few weeks. Once he had warned Mouret that a woman would someday defeat him. Now he even encouraged him to marry Denise. Part of him may have believed that marriage would weaken Mouret and give Bourdoncle greater power inside the business. Mouret understood this immediately.
　　Suddenly Mouret turned on him. He told Bourdoncle not to imagine that marriage would make him weak or ready to be replaced. For years they had both believed that the head of such a great store should remain unmarried. Now Mouret called that belief foolish. Marriage, he said, could bring strength and order rather than destroy them.
　　“I am going to marry her,” Mouret declared. Then he warned Bourdoncle that he was still master of The Ladies’ Paradise. If Bourdoncle tried to use the marriage against him, he too could be told to go and get paid like any other employee. Bourdoncle was shocked. He had spent years watching weaker men disappear from the store, and now he suddenly understood that he himself could also be removed.
　　Mouret dismissed him with a gesture. As Bourdoncle went out, Denise was coming toward the office. He bowed deeply to her as they passed. The woman he had once regarded as a dangerous little salesgirl had defeated all his resistance. Denise entered without understanding exactly what had just happened.
　　She was pale and already close to tears. Only a short time earlier, Deloche had told her that he had been dismissed because of the theft at his counter. Denise had offered to speak for him, but he refused. He believed that bad luck followed him everywhere and saw no reason to continue fighting against it.
　　Denise said goodbye to him like a sister. She had never been able to return his love, but she had always valued his kindness and friendship. Deloche wanted only to disappear quietly and leave happy people alone. His departure made Denise’s own planned departure seem even more final. It felt as if the years they had spent together in the Paradise were ending all at once.
　　When Denise entered Mouret’s office, she saw the great pile of money on the table. Above it hung the portrait of Madame Hédouin, still smiling calmly from its golden frame. Denise remembered how often that portrait had watched important moments between herself and Mouret. She told him that she had come to thank him for everything he had done for her before leaving.
　　Mouret asked one final time whether she was still determined to go. Denise answered quietly that she was. She believed separation was necessary. The gossip had become unbearable, and she feared that remaining close to him would eventually destroy the strength with which she had protected herself for so long.
　　Mouret suddenly took both her hands. All the coldness he had forced upon himself during the previous week disappeared. “And if I asked you to marry me, Denise,” he said, “would you still leave?” Denise immediately pulled her hands away. Instead of happiness, the proposal seemed to cause her even greater pain.
　　She begged him not to say such things. People already believed that she had refused him only to force him into marriage, and now a marriage would seem to prove that gossip true. Denise had never planned any of it. She had not entered the Paradise seeking money, power, or a rich husband. She had even decided to leave partly because she could no longer bear people giving false meanings to everything she did.
　　Mouret continued asking her to say yes. Denise then spoke of Jean and Pépé. She had always felt responsible for them and had even promised herself that she would never marry. How could she bring her two brothers and all their responsibilities into Mouret’s life? Mouret answered without hesitation that her brothers would become his brothers too.
　　Still Denise said no. Mouret could hardly understand what was happening. He had finally offered the one thing that everyone believed Denise wanted, yet she was still refusing him. Behind the closed office door came the distant noise of three thousand employees working inside the enormous business he had created. Before him lay more than a million francs, but neither the store nor the money could help him.
　　Then Mouret remembered Denise’s old confession that she loved someone. His last hope disappeared. He believed that another man was waiting for her and that this was the true reason she wanted to leave. Tears came to his eyes. “Go, then,” he cried. “Go to the man you love.”
　　Denise stared at him. Until that moment she had not understood how completely Mouret believed that her heart belonged to someone else. She saw his despair and could no longer keep her secret. All the strength with which she had resisted him suddenly disappeared. She threw her arms around his neck and began to cry.
　　“Oh, Monsieur Mouret,” she said, “it’s you I love!” Mouret held her tightly. For a moment the million francs on his table, the enormous store, the white sale, and the victory over all his rivals ceased to matter. The woman he had been unable to buy or command had finally given him the one thing that money could never obtain.
　　The distant noise of The Ladies’ Paradise continued around them. Mouret told Denise that she could still go to Valognes as she had planned. She would spend a month there, away from the store and its gossip. Then he would come himself to bring her back to Paris. This time she would not return as a poor saleswoman entering the great machine, but as his wife, sharing the life that they would build together.