"Hallo there! hallo!"
Mlle. Michonneau came noiselessly in, bowed to the rest of the party,
and took her place beside the three women without saying a word.
"That old bat always makes me shudder," said Bianchon in a low voice,
indicating Mlle. Michonneau to Vautrin. "I have studied Gall's system,
and I am sure she has the bump of Judas."
"Then you have seen a case before?" said Vautrin.
"Who has not?" answered Bianchon. "Upon my word, that ghastly old maid
looks just like one of the long worms that will gnaw a beam through,
give them time enough."
"That is the way, young man," returned he of the forty years and the
dyed whiskers:
"The rose has lived the life of a rose--
A morning's space."
"Aha! here is a magnificent _soupe-au-rama_," cried Poiret as
Christophe came in bearing the soup with cautious heed.
"I beg your pardon, sir," said Mme. Vauquer; "it is _soupe aux
choux_."
All the young men roared with laughter.
"Had you there, Poiret!"
"Poir-r-r-rette! she had you there!"
"Score two points to Mamma Vauquer," said Vautrin.
"Did any of you notice the fog this morning?" asked the official.
"It was a frantic fog," said Bianchon, "a fog unparalleled, doleful,
melancholy, sea-green, asthmatical--a Goriot of a fog!"
"A Goriorama," said the art student, "because you couldn't see a thing
in it.
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