Vautrin filled Eugene's glass and Goriot's likewise, then he
deliberately poured out a few drops into his own glass, and sipped it
while his two neighbors drank their wine. All at once he made a
grimace.
"Corked!" he cried. "The devil! You can drink the rest of this,
Christophe, and go and find another bottle; take from the right-hand
side, you know. There are sixteen of us; take down eight bottles."
"If you are going to stand treat," said the painter, "I will pay for a
hundred chestnuts."
"Oh! oh!"
"Booououh!"
"Prrr!"
These exclamations came from all parts of the table like squibs from a
set firework.
"Come, now, Mama Vauquer, a couple of bottles of champagne," called
Vautrin.
"_Quien!_ just like you! Why not ask for the whole house at once. A
couple of bottles of champagne; that means twelve francs! I shall
never see the money back again, I know! But if M. Eugene has a mind to
pay for it, I have some currant cordial."
"That currant cordial of hers is as bad as a black draught," muttered
the medical student.
"Shut up, Bianchon," exclaimed Rastignac; "the very mention of black
draught makes me feel----. Yes, champagne, by all means; I will pay
for it," he added.
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