。， "Those Englishmen s-sometimes t-t-talk sense," said Grandet. "So,ac-c-cording to Ben-Bentham, if my b-b-brother's n-notes are worthn-n-nothing; if Je-Je--I'm c-c-correct, am I not? That seems c-c-clearto my m-m-mind--the c-c-creditors would be--No, would not be; Iunderstand."
。， "Ah! Charles, it is not right," she said, as though she blamed him."Are we not married?" he said. "I have thy promise,--then take mine.""Thine; I am thine forever!" they each said, repeating the words twiceover.
"I am going to loiter about the market-place and find Cruchot.""Eugenie, your father certainly has something on his mind."Grandet, who was a poor sleeper, employed half his nights in thepreliminary calculations which gave such astonishing accuracy to hisviews and observations and schemes, and secured to them the unfailingsuccess at sight of which his townsmen stood amazed. All human poweris a compound of time and patience. Powerful beings will and wait. Thelife of a miser is the constant exercise of human power put to theservice of self. It rests on two sentiments only,--self-love and self-interest; but self-interest being to a certain extent compact andintelligent self-love, the visible sign of real superiority, itfollows that self-love and self-interest are two parts of the samewhole,--egotism. From this arises, perhaps, the excessive curiosityshown in the habits of a miser's life whenever they are put before theworld. Every nature holds by a thread to those beings who challengeall human sentiments by concentrating all in one passion. Where is theman without desire? and what social desire can be satisfied withoutmoney?。，
"You gave him all!" cried the poor mother, terrified. "What will yousay to your father on New Year's Day when he asks to see your gold?"Eugenie's eyes grew fixed, and the two women lived through mortalterror for more than half the morning. They were so troubled in mindthat they missed high Mass, and only went to the military service. Inthree days the year 1819 would come to an end. In three days aterrible drama would begin, a bourgeois tragedy, without poison, ordagger, or the spilling of blood; but--as regards the actors in it--more cruel than all the fabled horrors in the family of the Atrides."What will become of us?" said Madame Grandet to her daughter, lettingher knitting fall upon her knees.。， "That's the way, always spending my money!" cried the father. "Do youthink there are francs on every bush?"
， "Very good," said the president, preparing to resume his argument."Nephew!" said the notary, interrupting him in a warning tone."Well, what, uncle?" answered the president.。， my entrance into life, with the love of an Anna! The flowers of