Father Goriot HonorĂ© de Balzac (love books to read .TXT) đ
- Author: Honoré de Balzac
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âAt once!â echoed Poiret in amazement.
Then he went across to the crouching figure, and spoke a few words in her ear.
âI have paid beforehand for the quarter; I have as much right to be here as anyone else,â she said, with a viperous look at the boarders.
âNever mind that! we will club together and pay you the money back,â said Rastignac.
âMonsieur is taking Collinâs part,â she said, with a questioning, malignant glance at the law student; âit is not difficult to guess why.â
EugĂšne started forward at the words, as if he meant to spring upon her and wring her neck. That glance, and the depths of treachery that it revealed, had been a hideous enlightenment.
âLet her alone!â cried the boarders.
Rastignac folded his arms and was silent.
âLet us have no more of Mlle. Judas,â said the painter, turning to Mme. Vauquer. âIf you donât show the Michonneau the door, madame, we shall all leave your shop, and wherever we go we shall say that there are only convicts and spies left there. If you do the other thing, we will hold our tongues about the business; for when all is said and done, it might happen in the best society until they brand them on the forehead, when they send them to the hulks. They ought not to let convicts go about Paris disguised like decent citizens, so as to carry on their antics like a set of rascally humbugs, which they are.â
At this Mme. Vauquer recovered miraculously. She sat up and folded her arms; her eyes were wide open now, and there was no sign of tears in them.
âWhy, do you really mean to be the ruin of my establishment, my dear sir? There is M. Vautrinâ âGoodness,â she cried, interrupting herself, âI canât help calling him by the name he passed himself off by for an honest man! There is one room to let already, and you want me to turn out two more lodgers in the middle of the season, when no one is movingâ ââ
âGentlemen, let us take our hats and go and dine at Flicoteauxâs in the Place Sorbonne,â cried Bianchon.
Mme. Vauquer glanced round, and saw in a moment on which side her interest lay. She waddled across to Mlle. Michonneau.
âCome, now,â she said; âyou would not be the ruin of my establishment, would you, eh? Thereâs a dear, kind soul. You see what a pass these gentlemen have brought me to; just go up to your room for this evening.â
âNever a bit of it!â cried the boarders. âShe must go, and go this minute!â
âBut the poor lady has had no dinner,â said Poiret, with piteous entreaty.
âShe can go and dine where she likes,â shouted several voices.
âTurn her out, the spy!â
âTurn them both out! Spies!â
âGentlemen,â cried Poiret, his heart swelling with the courage that love gives to the ovine male, ârespect the weaker sex.â
âSpies are of no sex!â said the painter.
âA precious sexorama!â
âTurn her into the streetorama!â
âGentlemen, this is not manners! If you turn people out of the house, it ought not to be done so unceremoniously and with no notice at all. We have paid our money, and we are not going,â said Poiret, putting on his cap, and taking a chair beside Mlle. Michonneau, with whom Mme. Vauquer was remonstrating.
âNaughty boy!â said the painter, with a comical look; ârun away, naughty little boy!â
âLook here,â said Bianchon; âif you do not go, all the rest of us will,â and the boarders, to a man, made for the sitting-room-door.
âOh! mademoiselle, what is to be done?â cried Mme. Vauquer. âI am a ruined woman. You canât stay here; they will go further, do something violent.â
Mlle. Michonneau rose to her feet.
âShe is going!â âShe is not going!â âShe is going!â âNo, she isnât.â
These alternate exclamations, and a suggestion of hostile intentions, borne out by the behavior of the insurgents, compelled Mlle. Michonneau to take her departure. She made some stipulations, speaking in a low voice in her hostessâ ear, and thenâ ââI shall go to Mme. Buneaudâs,â she said, with a threatening look.
âGo where you please, mademoiselle,â said Mme. Vauquer, who regarded this choice of an opposition establishment as an atrocious insult. âGo and lodge with the Buneaud; the wine would give a cat the colic, and the food is cheap and nasty.â
The boarders stood aside in two rows to let her pass; not a word was spoken. Poiret looked so wistfully after Mlle. Michonneau, and so artlessly revealed that he was in two minds whether to go or stay, that the boarders, in their joy at being quit of Mlle. Michonneau, burst out laughing at the sight of him.
âHist!â âst!â âst! Poiret,â shouted the painter. âHallo! I say, Poiret, hallo!â The employee from the Museum began to sing:
âPartant pour la Syrie,
Le jeune et beau Dunoisâ ââ âŠâ
âGet along with you; you must be dying to go, trahit sua quemque voluptas!â said Bianchon.
âEveryone to his tasteâ âfree rendering from Virgil,â said the tutor.
Mlle. Michonneau made a movement as if to take Poiretâs arm, with an appealing glance that he could not resist. The two went out together, the old maid leaning upon him, and there was a burst of applause, followed by peals of laughter.
âBravo, Poiret!â
âWho would have thought it of old Poiret!â
âApollo Poiret!â
âMars Poiret!â
âIntrepid Poiret!â
A messenger came in at that moment with a letter for Mme. Vauquer, who read it through, and collapsed in her chair.
âThe house might as well be burned down at once,â cried she, âif there are to be any more of these thunderbolts! Young Taillefer died at three oâclock this afternoon. It serves me right for wishing well to those ladies at that poor manâs expense. Mme. Couture and Victorine want me to send their things, because they are going to live with her father. M. Taillefer allows his daughter to keep old Mme. Couture as her lady companion. Four rooms to let! and five lodgers gone!â ââ âŠâ
She sat up, and seemed about to burst into tears.
âBad luck has come to lodge here, I think,â she cried.
Once more there came a sound of wheels from the street outside.
âWhat! another windfall for somebody!â was Sylvieâs comment.
But it
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