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Updated: June 8, 2025
In spite of her vast wealth, she lives as the poor Eugenie Grandet once lived. The fire is never lighted on her hearth until the day when her father allowed it to be lighted in the hall, and it is put out in conformity with the rules which governed her youthful years. She dresses as her mother dressed.
"Monsieur," she said, when Grandet returned the second time, after locking the fruit-garden, "won't you have the pot-au-feu put on once or twice a week on account of your nephew?" "Yes." "Am I to go to the butcher's?" "Certainly not. We will make the broth of fowls; the farmers will bring them. I shall tell Cornoiller to shoot some crows; they make the best soup in the world."
Pere Grandet looked alternately at the deed and at his daughter, at his daughter and at the deed, undergoing as he did so such violent emotion that he wiped the sweat from his brow.
At the moment when Madame Grandet had won a loto of sixteen sous, the largest ever pooled in that house, and while la Grande Nanon was laughing with delight as she watched madame pocketing her riches, the knocker resounded on the house-door with such a noise that the women all jumped in their chairs. "There is no man in Saumur who would knock like that," said the notary.
He has created so much that there is plenty to destroy; only at last, with the man's dying cry of triumph, is the wreck complete. Thus the climax of the story, as in Grandet, is laid up betimes in the descriptive picture. It is needless, I suppose, to insist on the esthetic value of economy of this kind.
At this moment the town of Saumur was more excited about the dinner given by Grandet to the Cruchots than it had been the night before at the sale of his vintage, though that constituted a crime of high-treason against the whole wine-growing community.
"Yes, mademoiselle; and if I knew where he was, the darling, I'd go on foot to find him." "The ocean is between us," she said. While the poor heiress wept in company of an old servant, in that cold dark house, which was to her the universe, the whole province rang, from Nantes to Orleans, with the seventeen millions of Mademoiselle Grandet.
"Good God!" exclaimed the notary. "Well, what?" cried Grandet; and at the same moment Cruchot put the newspaper under his eyes and said: "Read that!" "Monsieur Grandet, one of the most respected merchants in Paris, blew his brains out yesterday, after making his usual appearance at the Bourse.
As she turned over in her mind some stratagem by which to get the cake, a quarrel an event as rare as the sight of swallows in winter broke out between la Grande Nanon and Grandet. Armed with his keys, the master had come to dole out provisions for the day's consumption. "Is there any bread left from yesterday?" he said to Nanon. "Not a crumb, monsieur."
Hoffstott, "pray take her away for a time; her nerves are all unstrung." That good woman led the half-fainting girl below, and at once despatched Grisel for Madame Grandet and the minister of the church the Olmsteads attended, who were shortly there, doing their best for the grief- stricken little household; while in the evening both Professor and Mrs.
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