"Oh! I don't know about that, monsieur!" said Galuchet, scratching his ear with a fatuous air; "I should like the girl well enough, that's true! she's a jewel! blue eyes, fair hair that's a metre and a half long, I'll wager, superb teeth, and a mischievous little glance. I could be dead in love with her, if I chose!"
"And why don't you choose?"
"Dame! if I had ten thousand francs of my own, I might suit her! but when one has nothing, one is hardly a suitable match for a girl who has nothing."
"Is your salary equal to her income?"
"Why her income is contingent, and old Janille, who is supposed to be her mother—I must confess, it would be a little distasteful to me to be the son-in-law of a servant,—old Janille would certainly insist on a small sum to begin housekeeping with."
"Do you think ten thousand francs would be enough?"
"I have no idea; but it seems to me that those people have no right to be very ambitious. Their hovel isn't worth four thousand francs; the mountain, the garden, a bit of meadow on the edge of the stream, all overgrown with rushes, and the orchard where there are some fruit trees good for nothing but to burn,—all those together wouldn't bring in a hundred francs a year. They say Monsieur Antoine has a little capital in government securities. It can't be much, judging from the life they lead. But, if I were sure of a thousand francs a year, I would arrange matters with the girl. She pleases me and I am old enough to settle down."
"Monsieur Antoine has twelve hundred francs a year, I know."
"Reverting to his daughter, monsieur?"
"I am sure of it."