酷兔英语

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merriment, and under cover of jokes and laughter Eugene caught a

glance from Mlle. Taillefer; she had leaned over to say a few
words in Mme. Couture's ear.

"The cab is at the door," announced Sylvie.
"But where is he going to dine?" asked Bianchon.

"With Madame la Baronne de Nucingen."
"M. Goriot's daughter," said the law student.

At this, all eyes turned to the old vermicelli maker; he was
gazing at Eugene with something like envy in his eyes.

Rastignac reached the house in the Rue Saint-Lazare, one of those
many-windowed houses with a mean-looking portico and slender

columns, which are considered the thing in Paris, a typical
banker's house, decorated in the most ostentatious fashion; the

walls lined with stucco, the landings of marble mosaic. Mme. de
Nucingen was sitting in a little drawing-room; the room was

painted in the Italian fashion, and decorated like a restaurant.
The Baroness seemed depressed. The effort that she made to hide

her feelings aroused Eugene's interest; it was plain that she was
not playing a part. He had expected a little flutter of

excitement at his coming, and he found her dispirited and sad.
The disappointment piqued his vanity.

"My claim to your confidence is very small, madame," he said,
after rallying her on her abstracted mood; "but if I am in the

way, please tell me so frankly; I count on your good faith."
"No, stay with me," she said; "I shall be all alone if you go.

Nucingen is dining in town, and I do not want to be alone; I want
to be taken out of myself."

"But what is the matter?"
"You are the very last person whom I should tell," she exclaimed.

"Then I am connected in some way in this secret. I wonder what it
is?"

"Perhaps. Yet, no," she went on; "it is a domestic quarrel, which
ought to be buried in the depths of the heart. I am very unhappy;

did I not tell you so the day before yesterday? Golden chains are
the heaviest of all fetters."

When a woman tells a young man that she is very unhappy, and when
the young man is clever, and well dressed, and has fifteen

hundred francs lying idle in his pocket, he is sure to think as
Eugene said, and he becomes a coxcomb.

"What can you have left to wish for?" he answered. "You are
young, beautiful, beloved, and rich."

"Do not let us talk of my affairs," she said shaking her head
mournfully. "We will dine together tete-a-tete, and afterwards we

will go to hear the most exquisite music. Am I to your taste?"
she went on, rising and displaying her gown of white cashmere,

covered with Persian designs in the most superb taste.
"I wish that you were altogether mine," said Eugene; "you are

charming."
"You would have a forlorn piece of property," she said, smiling

bitterly. "There is nothing about me that betrays my
wretchedness; and yet, in spite of appearances, I am in despair.

I cannot sleep; my troubles have broken my night's rest; I shall
grow ugly."

"Oh! that is impossible," cried the law student; "but I am
curious to know what these troubles can be that a devoted love

cannot efface."
"Ah! if I were to tell you about them, you would shun me," she

said. "Your love for me is as yet only the conventional gallantry
that men use to masquerade in; and, if you really loved me, you

would be driven to despair. I must keep silence, you see. Let us
talk of something else, for pity's sake," she added. "Let me show

you my rooms."
"No; let us stay here," answered Eugene; he sat down on the sofa

before the fire, and boldly took Mme. de Nucingen's hand in his.
She surrendered it to him; he even felt the pressure of her

fingers in one of the spasmodic clutches that betray terrible
agitation.

"Listen," said Rastignac; "if you are in trouble, you ought to
tell me about it. I want to prove to you that I love you for

yourself alone. You must speak to me frankly about your troubles,
so that I can put an end to them, even if I have to kill half-a-

dozen men; or I shall go, never to return."
"Very well," she cried, putting her hand to her forehead in an

agony of despair, "I will put you to the proof, and this very
moment. Yes," she said to herself, "I have no other resource

left."
She rang the bell.

"Are the horses put in for the master?" she asked of the servant.
"Yes, madame."

"I shall take his carriage myself. He can have mine and my
horses. Serve dinner at seven o'clock."

"Now, come with me," she said to Eugene, who thought as he sat in
the banker's carriage beside Mme. de Nucingen that he must surely

be dreaming.
"To the Palais-Royal," she said to the coachman; "stop near the

Theatre-Francais."
She seemed to be too troubled and excited to answer the

innumerable questions that Eugene put to her. He was at a loss
what to think of her mute resistance, her obstinate silence.

"Another moment and she will escape me," he said to himself.
When the carriage stopped at last, the Baroness gave the law

student a glance that silenced his wild words, for he was almost
beside himself.

"Is it true that you love me?" she asked.
"Yes," he answered, and in his manner and tone there was no trace

of the uneasiness that he felt.
"You will not think ill of me, will you, whatever I may ask of

you?"
"No."

"Are you ready to do my bidding?"
"Blindly."

"Have you ever been to a gaming-house?" she asked in a tremulous
voice.

"Never."
"Ah! now I can breathe. You will have luck. Here is my purse,"

she said. "Take it! there are a hundred francs in it, all that
such a fortunate woman as I can call her own. Go up into one of

the gaming-houses--I do not know where they are, but there are
some near the Palais-Royal. Try your luck with the hundred francs

at a game they call roulette; lose it all or bring me back six
thousand francs. I will tell you about my troubles when you come

back."
"Devil take me, I'm sure, if I have a glimmer of a notion of what

I am about, but I will obey you," he added, with inward
exultation, as he thought, "She has gone too far to draw back--

she can refuse me nothing now!"
Eugene took the dainty little purse, inquired the way of a

second-hand clothes-dealer, and hurried to number 9, which
happened to be the nearest gaming-house. He mounted the

staircase, surrendered his hat, and asked the way to the
roulette-table, whither the attendant took him, not a little to

the astonishment of the regular comers. All eyes were fixed on
Eugene as he asked, without bashfulness, where he was to deposit

his stakes.
"If you put a louis on one only of those thirty-six numbers, and

it turns up, you will win thirty-six louis," said a respectable-
looking, white-haired old man in answer to his inquiry.

Eugene staked the whole of his money on the number 21 (his own
age). There was a cry of surprise; before he knew what he had

done, he had won.
"Take your money off, sir," said the old gentleman; "you don't

often win twice running by that system."
Eugene took the rake that the old man handed to him, and drew in

his three thousand six hundred francs, and, still perfectly
ignorant of what he was about, staked again on the red. The

bystanders watched him enviously as they saw him continue to
play. The disc turned, and again he won; the banker threw him

three thousand six hundred francs once more.
"You have seven thousand, two hundred francs of your own," the

old gentleman said in his ear. "Take my advice and go away with
your winnings; red has turned up eight times already. If you are

charitable, you will show your gratitude for sound counsel by
giving a trifle to an old prefect of Napoleon who is down on his

luck."
Rastignac's head was swimming; he saw ten of his louis pass into

the white-haired man's possession, and went down-stairs with his
seven thousand francs; he was still ignorant of the game, and

stupefied by his luck.
"So, that is over; and now where will you take me?" he asked, as

soon as the door was closed, and he showed the seven thousand
francs to Mme. de Nucingen.

Delphine flung her arms about him, but there was no passion in
that wild embrace.

"You have saved me!" she cried, and tears of joy flowed fast.
"I will tell you everything, my friend. For you will be my

friend, will you not? I am rich, you think, very rich; I have
everything I want, or I seem as if I had everything. Very well,

you must know that M. de Nucingen does not allow me the control
of a single penny; he pays all the bills for the house expenses;

he pays for my carriages and opera box; he does not give me
enough to pay for my dress, and he reduces me to poverty in

secret on purpose. I am too proud to beg from him. I should be
the vilest of women if I could take his money at the price at

which he offers it. Do you ask how I, with seven hundred thousand
francs of my own, could let myself be robbed? It is because I was

proud, and scorned to speak. We are so young, so artless when our
married life begins! I never could bring myself to ask my husband

for money; the words would have made my lips bleed, I did not
dare to ask; I spent my savings first, and then the money that my

poor father gave me, then I ran into debt. Marriage for me is a
hideous farce; I cannot talk about it, let it suffice to say that

Nucingen and I have separate rooms, and that I would fling myself
out of the window sooner than consent to any other manner of

life. I suffered agonies when I had to confess to my girlish
extravagance, my debts for jewelry and trifles (for our poor

father had never refused us anything, and spoiled us), but at
last I found courage to tell him about them. After all, I had a

fortune of my own. Nucingen flew into a rage; he said that I
should be the ruin of him, and used frightful language! I wished

myself a hundred feet down in the earth. He had my dowry, so he
paid my debts, but he stipulated at the same time that my

expenses in future must not exceed a certain fixed sum, and I
gave way for the sake of peace. And then," she went on, "I wanted

to gratify the self-love of some one whom you know. He may have
deceived me, but I should do him the justice to say that there

was nothing petty in his character. But, after all, he threw me
over disgracefully. If, at a woman's utmost need, SOMEBODY heaps

gold upon her, he ought never to forsake her; that love should
last for ever! But you, at one-and-twenty, you, the soul of

honor, with the unsullied conscience of youth, will ask me how a
woman can bring herself to accept money in such a way? MON DIEU!

is it not natural to share everything with the one to whom we owe
our happiness? When all has been given, why should we pause and

hesitate over a part? Money is as nothing between us until the
moment when the sentiment that bound us together ceases to exist.

Were we not bound to each other for life? Who that believes in
love foresees such an end to love? You swear to love us

eternally; how, then, can our interests be separate?
"You do not know how I suffered to-day when Nucingen refused to

give me six thousand francs; he spends as much as that every
month on his mistress, an opera dancer! I thought of killing



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