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When the Cruchots were a few steps off, Adolphe remarked to hisfather,, bisa wig wig types

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"Are not they fuming, hein?"

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"Hold your tongue, my son!" said his mother; "they might hear you.Besides, what you say is not in good taste,,law-school language.""Well, uncle," cried the president when he saw the des Grassinsdisappearing, "I began by being de Bonfons, and I have ended asnothing but Cruchot." wigtypes alexis

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"I saw that that annoyed you; but the wind has set fair for the desGrassins. What a fool you are, with all your cleverness! Let them sailoff on Grandet's 'We'll see about it,' and keep yourself quiet, youngman. Eugenie will none the less be your wife."

In a few moments the news of Grandet's magnanimous resolve wasdisseminated in three houses at the same moment, and the whole townbegan to talk of his fraternal devotion. Every one forgave Grandet forthe sale made in defiance of the good faith pledged to the community;they admired his sense of honor, and began to laud a generosity ofwhich they had never thought him capable. It is part of the Frenchnature to grow enthusiastic, or angry, or fervent about some meteor ofthe moment. Can it be that collective beings, nationalities, peoples,are devoid of memory?

When Pere Grandet had shut the door he called Nanon.

"Don't let the dog loose, and don't go to bed; we have work to dotogether. At eleven o'clock Cornoiller will be at the door with thechariot from Froidfond. Listen for him and prevent his knocking; tellhim to come in softly. Police regulations don't allow nocturnalracket. Besides, the whole neighborhood need not know that I amstarting on a journey."

So saying, Grandet returned to his private room, where Nanon heard himmoving about, rummaging, and walking to and fro, though with muchprecaution, for he evidently did not wish to wake his wife anddaughter, and above all not to rouse the attention of his nephew, whomhe had begun to anathematize when he saw a thread of light under hisdoor. About the middle of the night Eugenie, intent on her cousin,fancied she heard a cry like that of a dying person. It must beCharles, she thought; he was so pale, so full of despair when she hadseen him last,,could he have killed himself? She wrapped herselfquickly in a loose garment,,a sort of pelisse with a hood,,and wasabout to leave the room when a bright light coming through the chinksof her door made her think of fire. But she recovered herself as sheheard Nanon's heavy steps and gruff voice mingling with the snortingof several horses.

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