“At Paris,” said Blondet, “there are attorneys of two shades.  There is the honest man attorney; he abides within the province of the law, pushes on his cases, neglects no one, never runs after business, gives his clients his honest opinion, and makes them compromise on doubtful points—­he is a Derville, in short.  Then there is the starveling attorney, to whom anything seems good provided that he is sure of expenses; he will set, not mountains fighting, for he sells them, but planets; he will work to make the worse appear the better cause, and take advantage of a technical error to win the day for a rogue.  If one of these fellows tries one of Maitre Gonin’s tricks once too often, the guild forces him to sell his connection.  Desroches, our friend Desroches, understood the full resources of a trade carried on in a beggarly way enough by poor devils; he would buy up causes of men who feared to lose the day; he plunged into chicanery with a fixed determination to make money by it.  He was right; he did his business very honestly.  He found influence among men in public life by getting them out of awkward complications; there was our dear les Lupeaulx, for instance, whose position was so deeply compromised.  And Desroches stood in need of influence; for when he began, he was anything but well looked on at the court, and he who took so much trouble to rectify the errors of his clients was often in trouble himself.  See now, Bixiou, to go back to the subject—­How came Desroches to be in the church?”

“‘D’Aldrigger is leaving seven or eight hundred thousand francs,’ Taillefer answered, addressing Desroches.

“‘Oh, pooh, there is only one man who knows how much they are worth,’ put in Werbrust, a friend of the deceased.

“‘Who?’

“’That fat rogue Nucingen; he will go as far as the cemetery; d’Aldrigger was his master once, and out of gratitude he put the old man’s capital into his business.’

“‘The widow will soon feel a great difference.’

“‘What do you mean?’

“’Well, d’Aldrigger was so fond of his wife.  Now, don’t laugh, people are looking at us.’

“’Look here comes du Tillet; he is very late.  The epistle is just beginning.’

“‘He will marry the eldest girl in all probability.’

“‘Is it possible?’ asked Desroches; ’why, he is tied more than ever to Mme. Roguin.’

“‘Tied—­he?—­You do not know him.’

“‘Do you know how Nucingen and du Tillet stand?’ asked Desroches.

“‘Like this,’ said Taillefer; ’Nucingen is just the man to swallow down his old master’s capital, and then to disgorge it.’

“‘Ugh! ugh!’ coughed Werbrust, ’these churches are confoundedly damp; ugh! ugh!  What do you mean by “disgorge it"?’

“’Well, Nucingen knows that du Tillet has a lot of money; he wants to marry him to Malvina; but du Tillet is shy of Nucingen.  To a looker-on, the game is good fun.’