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Es ist nicht schwer, hinter das Geheimnis zu kommen. Merken Sie auf! If their husbands cannot afford to pay for their frantic extravagance, they will sell themselves. Or if they cannot do that, they will tear out their mothers' hearts to find something to pay for their splendor.

They will turn the world upside down. Just a Parisienne through and through! Father Goriot's face, which had shone at the student's words like the sun on a bright day, clouded over all at once at this cruel speech of Vautrin's. Vauquer, "but where is your adventure? Did you speak to her? Did you ask her if she wanted to study law?

She could not have reached home after the ball till two o'clock this morning. Wasn't it queer? There is no place like Paris for this sort of adventures.

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Taillefer had scarcely heeded the talk, she was so absorbed by the thought of the new attempt that she was about to make. Couture made a sign that it was time to go upstairs and dress; the two ladies went out, and Father Goriot followed their example. Vauquer, addressing Vautrin and the rest of the circle. You are too young to know Paris thoroughly yet; later on you will find out that there are what we call men with a passion". Michonneau gave Vautrin a quick glance at these words.

They seemed to be like the sound of a trumpet to a trooper's horse. Der Student ging in sein Zimmer hinauf. Vautrin ging aus. They must drink the water from some particular spring--it is stagnant as often as not; but they will sell their wives and families, they will sell their own souls to the devil to get it. For some this spring is play, or the stock-exchange, or music, or a collection of pictures or insects; for others it is some woman who can give them the dainties they like.

You might offer these last all the women on earth--they would turn up their noses; they will have the only one who can gratify their passion. It often happens that the woman does not care for them at all, and treats them cruelly; they buy their morsels of satisfaction very dear; but no matter, the fools are never tired of it; they will take their last blanket to the pawnbroker's to give their last five-franc piece to her. Father Goriot here is one of that sort.

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  • He is discreet, so the Countess exploits him--just the way of the gay world. The poor old fellow thinks of her and of nothing else. In all other respects you see he is a stupid animal; but get him on that subject, and his eyes sparkle like diamonds. That secret is not difficult to guess.

    He took some plate himself this morning to the melting-pot, and I saw him at Daddy Gobseck's in the Rue des Gres. And now, mark what follows--he came back here, and gave a letter for the Comtesse de Restaud to that noodle of a Christophe, who showed us the address; there was a receipted bill inside it. It is clear that it was an urgent matter if the Countess also went herself to the old money lender. Father Goriot has financed her handsomely. There is no need to tack a tale together; the thing is self-evident.

    So that shows you, sir student, that all the time your Countess was smiling, dancing, flirting, swaying her peach-flower crowned head, with her gown gathered into her hand, her slippers were pinching her, as they say; she was thinking of her protested bills, or her lover's protested bills. Wissen Sie, was er tat, dieses Scheusal von Mann? Ist das nicht eine Schurkerei? Das war alles!

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    Wenigstens hat er endlich seine Tochter gesehen. Ich begreife nicht, wie er sie verleugnen kann; sie gleicht ihm wie ein Wassertropfen dem anderen. Eugene looked disgusted. You are so unlucky as to walk off with something or other belonging to somebody else, and they exhibit you as a curiosity in the Place du Palais-de-Justice; you steal a million, and you are pointed out in every salon as a model of virtue. And you pay thirty millions for the police and the courts of justice, for the maintenance of law and order!

    A pretty slate of things it is! Vauquer, "has Father Goriot really melted down his silver posset-dish? I happened to see him by accident. The student went up to his room. Vautrin went out, and a few moments later Mme. Couture and Victorine drove away in a cab which Sylvie had called for them. Poiret gave his arm to Mlle.

    Michonneau, and they went together to spend the two sunniest hours of the day in the Jardin des Plantes. They are such a couple of dry sticks that if they happen to strike against each other they will draw sparks like flint and steel. Solche Scherzreden wechseln oft, leben kaum einen Monat lang. Michonneau's shawl, then," said Mme. Vauquer, laughing; "it would flare up like tinder. At four o'clock that evening, when Goriot came in, he saw, by the light of two smoky lamps, that Victorine's eyes were red.

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    Vauquer was listening to the history of the visit made that morning to M. Taillefer; it had been made in vain. Taillefer was tired of the annual application made by his daughter and her elderly friend; he gave them a personal interview in order to arrive at an understanding with them. Zum Teufel! Couture, addressing Mme. Vauquer, "just imagine it; he did not even ask Victorine to sit down, she was standing the whole time. The little thing threw herself at her father's feet and spoke up bravely; she said that she only persevered in her visits for her mother's sake; that she would obey him without a murmur, but that she begged him to read her poor dead mother's farewell letter.

    She took it up and gave it to him, saying the most beautiful things in the world, most beautifully expressed; I do not know where she learned them; God must have put them into her head, for the poor child was inspired to speak so nicely that it made me cry like a fool to hear her talk. And what do you think the monster was doing all the time? Cutting his nails! He took the letter that poor Mme. Taillefer had soaked with tears, and flung it on to the chimney-piece. He held out his hands to raise his daughter, but she covered them with kisses, and he drew them away again.

    Scandalous, isn't it? And his great booby of a son came in and took no notice of his sister. Couture went on, without heeding the worthy vermicelli maker's exclamation; "father and son bowed to me, and asked me to excuse them on account of urgent business! That is the history of our call. Well, he has seen his daughter at any rate. How he can refuse to acknowledge her I cannot think, for they are as alike as two peas. The boarders dropped in one after another, interchanging greetings and empty jokes that certain classes of Parisians regard as humorous and witty.

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    Dulness is their prevailing ingredient, and the whole point consists in mispronouncing a word or a gesture. This kind of argot is always changing. The essence of the jest consists in some catchword suggested by a political event, an incident in the police courts, a street song, or a bit of burlesque at some theatre, and forgotten in a month.

    Anything and everything serves to keep up a game of battledore and shuttlecock with words and ideas. The Maison Vauquer had caught the infection from a young artist among the boarders. Couture and Victorine with a "Ladies, you seem melancholy. Confound it, your foot covers the whole front of the stove. Michonneau came noiselessly in, bowed to the rest of the party, and took her place beside the three women without saying a word.

    Michonneau to Vautrin. Der arme Greis, den der rohe Angriff erschreckt hatte, blieb einen Augenblick regungslos. Alles brach in Lachen aus. Hat sich der Papa noch immer widerspenstig gezeigt? Father Goriot, seated at the lower end of the table, close to the door through which the servant entered, raised his face; he had smelt at a scrap of bread that lay under his table napkin, an old trick acquired in his commercial capacity, that still showed itself at times.