this
is! what pain this is! ... ah! ah!)--I must get well, you see; for they
_must_ have money, and I know how to set about making some. I will go
to Odessa and manufacture starch there. I am an old hand, I will make
millions. (Oh! this is agony!)"

Goriot was silent for a moment; it seemed to require his whole strength
to endure the pain.

"If they were here, I should not complain," he said. "So why should I
complain now?"

He seemed to grow drowsy with exhaustion, and lay quietly for a long
time. Christophe came back; and Rastignac, thinking that Goriot was
asleep, allowed the man to give his story aloud.

"First of all, sir, I went to Madame la Comtesse," he said; "but she
and her husband were so busy that I couldn't get to speak to her. When I
insisted that I must see her, M. de Restaud came out to me himself, and
went on like this: 'M. Goriot is dying, is he? Very well, it is the
best thing he can do. I want Mme. de Restaud to transact some important
business, when it is all finished she can go.' The gentleman looked
angry, I thought. I was just going away when Mme. de Restaud came out
into an ante-chamber through a door that I did not notice, and said,
'Christophe, tell my father that my husband wants me to discuss some
matters with him, and I cannot leave the house, the life or death of my
children is at stake; but as soon as it is over, I will come.' As for
Madame la Baronne, that is another story! I could not speak to her
either, and I did not even see her. Her waiting-woman said, 'Ah yes, but
madame only came back from a ball at a quarter to five this morning; she
is asleep now, and if I wake her before mid-day she will be cross. As
soon as she rings, I will go and tell her that her father is worse. It
will be time enough then to tell her bad news!' I begged and I prayed,
but, there! it was no good. Then I asked for M. le Baron, but he was
out."

"To think that neither of his daughters should come!" exclaimed
Rastignac. "I will write to them both."

"Neither of them!" cried the old man, sitting upright in bed. "They are
busy, they are asleep, they will not come! I knew that they would not.
Not until you are dying do you know your children.... Oh! my friend, do
not marry; do not have children! You give them life; they give you your
deathblow. You bring them into the world, and they send you out of it.
No, they will not come. I have known that these ten years. Sometimes I
have told myself so, but I did n