Will he become an idiot?
or is he one already?
Dear friend, why did you not instruct him as to his behavior before you sent him to me?
How many misfortunes you would have spared me, had you brought him here yourself as I begged you to do.

If Estelle alarmed you, you might have stayed at Moisselles.

However, the thing is done, and there is no use talking about it.
Adieu; I shall see you soon.
Your devoted servant and friend, Moreau At eight o'clock that evening, Madame Clapart, just returned from a walk she had taken with her husband, was knitting winter socks for Oscar, by the light of a single candle.

Monsieur Clapart was expecting a friend named Poiret, who often came in to play dominoes, for never did he allow himself to spend an evening at a cafe.

In spite of the prudent economy to which his small means forced him, Clapart would not have answered for his temperance amid a luxury of food and in presence of the usual guests of a cafe whose inquisitive observation would have piqued him.
"I'm afraid Poiret came while we were out," said Clapart to his wife.
"Why, no, my friend; the portress would have told us so when we came in," replied Madame Clapart.
"She may have forgotten it." "What makes you think so ?" "It wouldn't be the first time she has forgotten things for us,--for God knows how people without means are treated." "Well," said the poor woman, to change the conversation and escape Clapart's cavilling, "Oscar must be at Presles by this time.