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When he had tried on his dress suit, he put on his new morning costume, which completely metamorphosed him. "I am quite equal to M. de Trailles," he said to himself. "In short, I look like a gentleman." "You asked me, sir, if I knew the houses where Mme. de Nucingen goes," Father Goriot's voice spoke from the doorway of Eugene's room. "Yes."
Rastignac made up his mind that he must learn the whole of Goriot's previous history; he would come to his bearings before attempting to board the Maison de Nucingen. The results of his inquiries may be given briefly as follows: In the days before the Revolution, Jean-Joachim Goriot was simply a workman in the employ of a vermicelli maker.
Vauquer lay down to rest on the day of M. Goriot's installation, her heart, like a larded partridge, sweltered before the fire of a burning desire to shake off the shroud of Vauquer and rise again as Goriot.
He reached the Rue Neuve-Sainte-Genevieve at last, and from the stairhead he saw a light in Goriot's room; the old man had lighted a candle, and set the door ajar, lest the student should pass him by, and go to his room without "telling him all about his daughter," to use his own expression. Eugene, accordingly, told him everything without reserve.
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