"Her name?"
"Gervaise-Perrette Popinot."
"Do you wish me to tell her of your purpose?"
"If you will kindly take that trouble, father, I shall be truly grateful."
"She shall be informed this very day."
"Tell me, father, tell me, could you possibly hand her a letter?"
"No, my son: we who are admitted to minister to the prisoners have sworn to deliver no message for them to any person until after their death. When that time comes, I will do whatever you choose."
"Thanks, it would be useless; marriage it must be, then," muttered Aubry.
"You have nothing else to say to me?"
"Nothing, except that, if you doubt the truth of what I say, and if she makes any objection to granting my request, you will find in the office of the lieutenant criminal a complaint lodged by said Gervaise-Perrette Popinot, which will prove that what I have said is the exact truth."