Clearly he was still a child!
Those two lines are asymptotes, and will never meet.
"You are very dull, my lord Marquis," said Vautrin, with one of the
shrewd glances that seem to read the innermost secrets of another
mind.
"I am not in the humor to stand jokes from people who call me 'my lord
Marquis,'" answered Eugene. "A marquis here in Paris, if he is not
the veriest sham, ought to have a hundred thousand livres a year at
least; and a lodger in the Maison Vauquer is not exactly Fortune's
favorite."
Vautrin's glance at Rastignac was half-paternal, half-contemptuous.
"Puppy!" it seemed to say; "I should make one mouthful of him!" Then
he answered:
"You are in a bad humor; perhaps your visit to the beautiful Comtesse
de Restaud was not a success."
"She has shut her door against me because I told her that her father
dined at our table," cried Rastignac.
Glances were exchanged all round the room; Father Goriot looked down.
"You have sent some snuff into my eye," he said to his neighbor,
turning a little aside to rub his hand over his face.
"Any one who molests Father Goriot will have henceforward to reckon
with me," said Eugene, looking at the old man's neighbor; "he is worth
all the rest of us put together.
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