She was very grave.
"Oh! Monsieur Coupeau," murmured she, "whatever are you thinking of?
You know I've never asked you for that.

I didn't care about it--that was all.

Oh, no, no! it's serious now; think of what you're saying, I beg of you." But he continued to shake his head with an air of unalterable resolution.

He had already thought it all over.

He had come down because he wanted to have a good night.