Lheureux sat down in a large cane arm-chair, saying: “What news?”
“See!”
And she showed him the paper.
“Well how can I help it?”
Then she grew angry, reminding him of the promise he had given not to pay away her bills. He acknowledged it.
“But I was pressed myself; the knife was at my own throat.”
“And what will happen now?” she went on.
“Oh, it’s very simple; a judgment and then a distraint—that’s about it!”
Emma kept down a desire to strike him, and asked gently if there was no way of quieting Monsieur Vincart.
“I dare say! Quiet Vincart! You don’t know him; he’s more ferocious than an Arab!”