"
"Well, mademoiselle," Vautrin said, turning to Victorine, "you are
eating nothing. So papa was refractory, was he?"
"A monster!" said Mme. Couture.
"Mademoiselle might make application for aliment pending her suit; she
is not eating anything. Eh! eh! just see how Father Goriot is staring
at Mlle. Victorine."
The old man had forgotten his dinner, he was so absorbed in gazing at
the poor girl; the sorrow in her face was unmistakable,--the slighted
love of a child whose father would not recognize her.
"We are mistaken about Father Goriot, my dear boy," said Eugene in a
low voice. "He is not an idiot, nor wanting in energy. Try your Gall
system on him, and let me know what you think. I saw him crush a
silver dish last night as if it had been made of wax; there seems to
be something extraordinary going on in his mind just now, to judge by
his face. His life is so mysterious that it must be worth studying.
Oh! you may laugh, Bianchon; I am not joking."
"The man is a subject, is he?" said Bianchon; "all right! I will
dissect him, if he will give me the chance."
"No; feel his bumps."
"Hm!--his stupidity might perhaps be contagious.
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