He felt as if this strange being was reading his inmost soul, and
dissecting his feelings, while Vautrin himself was so close and
secretive that he seemed to have something of the profound and unmoved
serenity of a sphinx, seeing and hearing all things and saying
nothing. Eugene, conscious of that money in his pocket, grew
rebellious.
"Be so good as to wait a moment," he said to Vautrin, as the latter
rose, after slowly emptying his coffee-cup, sip by sip.
"What for?" inquired the older man, as he put on his large-brimmed
hat and took up the sword-cane that he was wont to twirl like a man
who will face three or four footpads without flinching.
"I will repay you in a minute," returned Eugene. He unsealed one of
the bags as he spoke, counted out a hundred and forty francs, and
pushed them towards Mme. Vauquer. "Short reckonings make good friends"
he added, turning to the widow; "that clears our accounts till the end
of the year. Can you give me change for a five-franc piece?"
"Good friends make short reckonings," echoed Poiret, with a glance at
Vautrin.
"Here is your franc," said Rastignac, holding out the coin to the
sphinx in the black wig.
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