Father Goriot by Honoré de Balzac
page 339 of 375 (90%)
page 339 of 375 (90%)
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nothing of the world; they loved me with all their hearts. _Mon Dieu!_
why could they not always be little girls? (Oh! my head! this racking pain in my head!) Ah! ah! forgive me, children, this pain is fearful; it must be agony indeed, for you have used me to endure pain. _Mon Dieu!_ if only I held their hands in mine, I should not feel it at all.--Do you think that they are on the way? Christophe is so stupid; I ought to have gone myself. _He_ will see them. But you went to the ball yesterday; just tell me how they looked. They did not know that I was ill, did they, or they would not have been dancing, poor little things? Oh! I must not be ill any longer. They stand too much in need of me; their fortunes are in danger. And such husbands as they are bound to! I must get well! (Oh! what pain 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, |
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