He is a clever, intelligent
fellow.--That is a matter of a couple of days.--But two hundred
thousand francs! My son has not so much; his house is loaded with
mortgages for three hundred thousand. My brother has saved thirty
thousand francs at most. Nucingen would simply laugh at me!--Vauvinet?
--he was not very ready to lend me the ten thousand francs I wanted to
make up the sum for that villain Marneffe's boy. No, it is all up with
me; I must throw myself at the Prince's feet, confess how matters
stand, hear myself told that I am a low scoundrel, and take his
broadside so as to go decently to the bottom."
"But, Hector, this is not merely ruin, it is disgrace," said Adeline.
"My poor uncle will kill himself. Only kill us--yourself and me; you
have a right to do that, but do not be a murderer! Come, take courage;
there must be some way out of it."
"Not one," said Hulot. "No one in the Government could find two
hundred thousand francs, not if it were to save an Administration!
--Oh, Napoleon! where art thou?"
"My uncle! poor man! Hector, he must not be allowed to kill himself in
disgrace."
"There is one more chance," said he, "but a very remote one.--Yes,
Crevel is at daggers drawn with his daughter.
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