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"Effort!" "Du Tillet was your clerk; he has a good head; he will help you." "Du Tillet!" "Come, try to walk." "My God! I cannot go home as I am," said Birotteau. "You who are my friend, if there are friends, you in whom I took an interest, who have dined at my house, take me somewhere in a carriage, for my wife's sake. Xandrot, go with me!"

Adieu; I am just on my way to read over the rough draft which Xandrot has been making out during the night." "Well, my mind is made up. I pass my word," said Birotteau, running after the notary and seizing his hand. "Take the hundred thousand francs which were laid by for my daughter's portion." "Very good," said Roguin, leaving him.

If his father, that big farmer who is as close as a snail, won't sell a hundred thousand francs worth of land Xandrot can't be a notary, for Roguin's practice is worth four or five hundred thousand. If Crottat does not pay half down, how could he negotiate the affair?

Well, then, a hundred thousand francs, or even eight thousand francs a year, is nothing at all towards buying Roguin's practice. Little Xandrot, as we call him, thinks, like all the rest of the world, that we are richer than we are.

"If my wife is well enough I will bring her." "Xandrot," said Roguin to his clerk, as they left the house, "give up all thoughts of marrying Cesarine; six weeks hence you will thank me for that advice." "Why?" asked Crottat. "My dear fellow, Birotteau is going to spend a hundred thousand francs on his ball, and he is involving his whole fortune, against my advice, in that speculation in lands.

The change in Birotteau's voice startled Crottat, who began to understand the importance of the warning; he fulfilled the instructions of the poor man, whom Celestin and Cesarine were horrified to find pale and half insensible in a corner of the carriage. "Keep the secret," he said. "Ah!" said Xandrot to himself, "he is coming to. I thought him lost."

The young notary compassionately put the inert mechanism which bore the name of Cesar into a street coach, not without great difficulty. "Xandrot," said the perfumer, in a voice choked with tears, for the tears were now falling from his eyes, and loosening the iron band which bound his brow, "stop at my shop; go in and speak to Celestin for me.