"
"I have overslept myself," said Mme. Vauquer.
"But madame looks as fresh as a rose, all the same."
The door bell rang at that moment, and Vautrin came through the
sitting-room, singing loudly:
"'Tis the same old story everywhere,
A roving heart and a roving glance . .
"Oh! Mamma Vauquer! good-morning!" he cried at the sight of his
hostess, and he put his arm gaily round her waist.
"There! have done----"
"'Impertinence!' Say it!" he answered. "Come, say it! Now, isn't that
what you really mean? Stop a bit, I will help you to set the table.
Ah! I am a nice man, am I not?
"For the locks of brown and the golden hair
A sighing lover . . .
"Oh! I have just seen something so funny----
. . . . led by chance."
"What?" asked the widow.
"Father Goriot in the goldsmith's shop in the Rue Dauphine at
half-past eight this morning. They buy old spoons and forks and gold
lace there, and Goriot sold a piece of silver plate for a good round
sum. It had been twisted out of shape very neatly for a man that's
not used to the trade."
"Really? You don't say so?"
"Yes. One of my friends is expatriating himself; I had been to see him
off on board the Royal Mail steamer, and was coming back here.
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