This volume, “Therese Raquin,” was Zola's third book, but it was the one that first gave him notoriety, and made him somebody, as the saying goes. While still a clerk at Hachette's at eight pounds a month, engaged in checking and perusing advertisements and press notices, he had already in 1864 published the first series of “Les Contes a Ninon”—a reprint of short stories contributed to various publications; and, in the following year, had brought out “La Confession de Claude.” Both these books were issued by Lacroix, a famous go−ahead publisher and bookseller in those days, whose place of business stood at one of the corners of the Rue Vivienne and the Boulevard Montmartre, and who, as Lacroix, Verboeckhoven et Cie., ended in bankruptcy in the early seventies. “La Confession de Claude” met with poor appreciation from the general public, although it attracted the attention of the Public Prosecutor, who sent down to Hachette's to make a few inquiries about the author, but went no Further. When, however, M. Barbey d'Aurevilly, in a critical weekly paper called the “Nain Jaune,” spitefully alluded to this rather daring novel as “Hachette's little book,” one of the members of the firm sent for M. Zola, and addressed him thus: “Look here, M. Zola, you are earning eight pounds a month with us, which is ridiculous for a man of your talent. Why don't you go into literature altogether? It will bring you wealth and glory.”