"
"There, Nasie, I forgive you," said Mme. de Nucingen; "you are very
unhappy. But I am kinder than you are. How could you say _that_ just
when I was ready to do anything in the world to help you, even to be
reconciled with my husband, which for my own sake I----Oh! it is just
like you; you have behaved cruelly to me all through these nine
years."
"Children, children, kiss each other!" cried the father. "You are
angels, both of you."
"No. Let me alone," cried the Countess shaking off the hand that her
father had laid on her arm. "She is more merciless than my husband.
Any one might think she was a model of all the virtues herself!"
"I would rather have people think that I owed money to M. de Marsay
than own that M. de Trailles had cost me more than two hundred
thousand francs," retorted Mme. de Nucingen.
"_Delphine!_" cried the Countess, stepping towards her sister.
"I shall tell you the truth about yourself if you begin to slander
me," said the Baroness coldly.
"Delphine! you are a ----"
Father Goriot sprang between them, grasped the Countess' hand, and
laid his own over her mouth.
"Good heavens, father! What have you been handling this morning?" said
Anastasie.
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