are building on facts that are absolutely false, and I need
pay no heed to them," said Lucien; "or you are in the right; and in that
case, by giving you a hundred thousand francs, I put you in a position
to ask me for as many hundred thousand francs as your employer can find
Saint-Esteves to ask for.

"However, to put an end, once and for all, to your kind intervention, I
would have you know that I, Lucien de Rubempre, fear no one. I have
no part in the jobbery of which you speak. If the Grandlieus make
difficulties, there are other young ladies of very good family ready
to be married. After all, it is no loss to me if I remain single,
especially if, as you imagine, I deal in blank bills to such advantage."

"If Monsieur l'Abbe Carlos Herrera----"

"Monsieur," Lucien put in, "the Abbe Herrera is at this moment on the
way to Spain. He has nothing to do with my marriage, my interests are no
concern of his. That remarkable statesman was good enough to assist
me at one time with his advice, but he has reports to present to
his Majesty the King of Spain; if you have anything to say to him, I
recommend you to set out for Madrid."

"Monsieur," said Corentin plainly, "you will never be Mademoiselle
Clotilde de Grandlieu's husband."

"So much the worse for her!" replied Lucien, impatiently pushing
Corentin towards the door.

"You have fully considered the matter?" asked Corentin coldly.

"Monsieur, I do not recognize that you have any right either to meddle
in my affairs, or to make me waste a cigarette," said Lucien, throwing
away his cigarette that had gone out.

"Good-day, monsieur," said Corentin. "We shall not meet again.--But
there will certainly be a moment in your life when you would give half
your fortune to have called me back from these stairs."

In answer to this threat, Carlos made as though he were cutting off a
head.

"Now to business!" cried he, looking at Lucien, who was as white as
ashes after this dreadful interview.

If among the small number of my readers who take an interest in the
moral and philosophical side of this book there should be only one
capable of believing that the Baron de Nucingen was happy, that one
would prove how difficult it is to explain the heart of a courtesan by
any kind of physiological formula. Esther was resolved to make the poor
millionaire pay dearly for what he called his day of triumph. And at
the beginning of February 1830 the house-warming party had not yet b