Vietnam or Thailand ? Vote for the TOP Country of the Week !
Updated: June 1, 2025
"No," said Cesar; "but that won't keep me from saving up everything to pay you." "Irrational folly!" cried Pillerault. "In matters of honor I ought to be believed. What nonsense were you saying just now? How have you robbed your creditors when you have paid them all in full?"
Pillerault, Popinot, and Constance waited while a clerk was sent to bring the Abbe Loraux, before they carried up to Cesar the schedule which Celestin had prepared, and asked him to affix his signature. The clerks were in despair, for they loved their master.
By dint of living so long with his cats Molineux had acquired, in his manners as well as in his eyes, something unmistakably feline. Just at this moment Ragon and Pillerault came in.
In such horrible commercial straits a man, unless his soul is tempered like that of Pillerault, becomes the plaything of events; he follows the ideas of others, or his own, as a traveller pursues a will-o'-the-wisp.
Derville, Birotteau's advocate, rushed into the handsome salon where Madame Cesar was using all her persuasion to retain her husband, who wished to sleep on the fifth floor, "that I may not see," he said, "these monuments of my folly." "The suit is won!" cried Derville. At these words Cesar's drawn face relaxed; but his joy alarmed Derville and Pillerault.
The whole building belongs to M. Pillerault, an old man of eighty, who left matters very much in the hands of M. and Mme. Cibot, his porters for the past twenty-six years.
"If you choose to jest, there is nothing to be done but to beat a retreat," said Pillerault. "You speak like the wise man that you are," answered Gigonnet, with a flattering smile. "Well, suppose I endorse Monsieur Popinot's notes?" said Pillerault, playing his last card. "You are gold by the ingot, Monsieur Pillerault; but I don't want bars of gold, I want my money."
"So, our friend Poulain was once called in by you to attend old M. Pillerault, the Countess Popinot's great-uncle; that is one of your claims to my devotion.
The masters of the house were obliged to check her ardor for work; they rewarded her by presents, but she refused all articles of dress and the jewels which they offered her. Money! money! was her cry. Every month she carried her salary and her little earnings to her uncle Pillerault. Cesar did the same; so did Madame Birotteau.
Cibot became their housekeeper at the rate of twenty-five francs per month twelve francs fifty centimes for each of them. Before the year was out, the emeritus portress reigned in the establishment of the two old bachelors, as she reigned everywhere in the house belonging to M. Pillerault, great uncle of Mme. le Comtesse Popinot. Their business was her business; she called them "my gentlemen."
Word Of The Day
Others Looking