Give me the letter.

I will speak to him myself about it.

All is well," she added, noticing the lawyer's surprise.

"In a few months my husband will probably pay off all the sums he has borrowed." Hearing these words, which were said in a low voice, the notary looked at Mademoiselle Claes, who was entering the room from the garden followed by Gabriel and Felicie, and remarked,-- "I have never seen Mademoiselle Marguerite as pretty as she is at this moment." Madame Claes, who was sitting in her armchair with little Jean upon her lap, raised her head and looked at her daughter, and then at the notary, with a pretended air of indifference.
Pierquin was a man of middle height, neither stout nor thin, with vulgar good looks, a face that expressed vexation rather than melancholy, and a pensive habit in which there was more of indecision than thought.

People called him a misanthrope, but he was too eager after his own interests, and too extortionate towards others to have set up a genuine divorce from the world.