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He had never had either wife or daughter; excesses had reduced him to this sluggish condition; he was a sort of human mollusk who should be classed among the capulidoe, so one of the dinner contingent, an employe at the Museum, who had a pretty wit of his own. Poiret was an eagle, a gentleman, compared with Goriot.
The two sets of rooms on the second floor were respectively occupied by an old man named Poiret and a man of forty or thereabouts, the wearer of a black wig and dyed whiskers, who gave out that he was a retired merchant, and was addressed as M. Vautrin. Two of the four rooms on the third floor were also let one to an elderly spinster, a Mlle.
"Five hundred francs." "It is such a thing to do for so little! It lies on your conscience just the same, and I must quiet my conscience, sir." "I assure you," said Poiret, "that mademoiselle has a great deal of conscience, and not only so, she is a very amiable person, and very intelligent." "Well, now," Mlle.
Poverty would clamor so loudly that more than once he was on the point of yielding to the cunning temptations of the terrible sphinx, whose glance had so often exerted a strange spell over him. Poiret and Mlle. Michonneau went up to their rooms; and Rastignac, thinking that he was alone with the women in the dining-room, sat between Mme. Vauquer and Mme.
"Steady?" said the astonished Poiret. "He is all right." "Do you think so?" asked Poiret. "Lord! Yes, he looks as if he were sleeping. Sylvie has gone for a doctor. I say, Mlle. Michonneau, he is sniffing the ether. Pooh! it is only a spasm. His pulse is good. He is as strong as a Turk.
The former loved Rabourdin too well to look for proof that might injure a man he was determined not to judge; the other had only five days more to remain in the office, and cared nothing either way. Just then Sebastien came down to collect the papers for signature. He was a good deal surprised, though he did not show it, to find the office deserted. Phellion. Poiret.
Bixiou, who had never seen any other hat on Poiret's head, dreamed of it and declared he tasted it in his food; he therefore resolved, in the interests of his digestion, to relieve the bureau of the sight of that amorphous old hat. Poiret junior left the office regularly at four o'clock.
You might be of some use in sparing my modesty," she said to Poiret, "instead of standing there like a stock." Vautrin was turned over; Mlle. Michonneau gave his shoulder a sharp slap, and the two portentous letters appeared, white against the red. "There, you have earned your three thousand francs very easily," exclaimed Poiret, supporting Vautrin while Mlle.
Less than nothing if his name happens to be Poiret; you can crush him like a bug, he is flat and he is offensive. But a man is a god when he is like you; he is not a machine covered with a skin, but a theatre in which the greatest sentiments are displayed great thoughts and feelings and for these, and these only, I live. A sentiment what is that but the whole world in a thought?
"Will you please bring me," said Rose, "that Poiret model you showed me before the others came in? I'll try it on." The saleswoman's manner was different now and she grumbled something about its being closing time. "Then, if you'll bring it at once ..." said Rose. And the saleswoman went on the errand. Five minutes later, Galbraith from staring gloomily at the mournful heap of trouble Mrs.
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