and this is how it
happened.

"A speculator came, offering to buy the island in the Loire belonging
to me, where my mother lay buried. I closed with him. When I went to
his solicitor to sign the deeds, I felt a cavern-like chill in the dark
office that made me shudder; it was the same cold dampness that had laid
hold upon me at the brink of my father's grave. I looked upon this as
an evil omen. I seemed to see the shade of my mother, and to hear her
voice. What power was it that made my own name ring vaguely in my ears,
in spite of the clamor of bells?

"The money paid down for my island, when all my debts were discharged,
left me in possession of two thousand francs. I could now have returned
to the scholar's tranquil life, it is true; I could have gone back to
my garret after having gained an experience of life, with my head filled
with the results of extensive observation, and with a certain sort of
reputation attaching to me. But Foedora's hold upon her victim was not
relaxed. We often met. I compelled her admirers to sound my name in her
ears, by dint of astonishing them with my cleverness and success, with
my horses and equipages. It all found her impassive and uninterested; so
did an ugly phrase of Rastignac's, 'He is killing himself for you.'

"I charged the world at large with my revenge, but I was not happy.
While I was fathoming the miry depths of life, I only recognized the
more keenly at all times the happiness of reciprocal affection; it was
a shadow that I followed through all that befell me in my extravagance,
and in my wildest moments. It was my misfortune to be deceived in my
fairest beliefs, to be punished by ingratitude for benefiting others,
and to receive uncounted pleasures as the reward of my errors--a
sinister doctrine, but a true one for the prodigal!

"The contagious leprosy of Foedora's vanity had taken hold of me at
last. I probed my soul, and found it cankered and rotten. I bore the
marks of the devil's claw upon my forehead. It was impossible to me
thenceforward to do without the incessant agitation of a life fraught
with danger at every moment, or to dispense with the execrable
refinements of luxury. If I had possessed millions, I should still have
gambled, reveled, and racketed about. I wished never to be alone with
myself, and I must have false friends and courtesans, wine and good
cheer to distract me. The ties that attach a man to family life had been
permanently broken for me. I