Well, maybe a little around the nose, nothing more.

She was her mother all over again, with big eyes like hers.

Certainly there were no eyes like that in the Coupeau family.
Coupeau, however, had failed to reappear.

One could hear him in the kitchen struggling with the grate and the coffee-pot.

Gervaise was worrying herself frightfully; it was not the proper thing for a man to make coffee; and she called and told him what to do, without listening to the midwife's energetic "hush!" "Here we are!" said Coupeau, entering with the coffee-pot in his hand.
"Didn't I just have a bother with it! It all went wrong on purpose! Now we'll drink out of glasses, won't we?
Because you know, the cups are still at the shop." They seated themselves around the table, and the zinc-worker insisted on pouring out the coffee himself.