Emmanuel, absorbed in contemplation of Marguerite's head, seemed dumb.

Pierquin did not know what to say.

He took leave of his cousin with feelings of rage against himself; for he suddenly perceived that Marguerite loved Emmanuel, and that he, Pierquin, had just behaved like a fool.
"Pierquin, my friend," he said, apostrophizing himself in the street, "if a man said you were an idiot he would tell the truth.

What a fool I am! I've got twelve thousand francs a year outside of my business, without counting what I am to inherit from my uncle des Racquets, which is likely to double my fortune (not that I wish him dead, he is so economical), and I've had the madness to ask interest from Mademoiselle Claes! I know those two are jeering at me now! I mustn't think of Marguerite any more.No.After all, Felicie is a sweet, gentle little creature, who will suit me much better.

Marguerite's character is iron; she would want to rule me--and--she would rule me.