He had seen much to confirm this belief, and had not looked in the right place to find any facts that would contradict it.

This belief had made him hard and sometimes even dishonest in his dealings with men; for what is the use of being good in a world that can neither comprehend goodness nor admire it?
On the whole, the notary was much better satisfied with himself than with human nature around him, although, if he had only known it, he himself had grown to be the reflex--the image as in a mirror--of what he thought other men were; it is always so.

There was just this much truth in him at the bottom of his scorn and grumbling--he flattered himself that if he could see undoubted virtue he could admire it; and there was in him that possibility of grace.
After he left Madame Verine's door he thought with irritation of the girl who had rebuked him.

Then he began to remember that she was only a woman and very young, and she had appealed to his heart--ah, yes, he had a heart.

After all, he was not sure but that her appeal was charming.
Then he thought of her with admiration.