“Not the least in the world.  We were talking of Rastignac.  From your point of view his affliction would be a sign of his corruption; for by that time he was not nearly so much in love with Delphine.  What would you have? he felt the prick in his heart, poor fellow.  But he was a man of noble descent and profound depravity, whereas we are virtuous artists.  So Rastignac meant to enrich Delphine; he was a poor man, she a rich woman.  Would you believe it?—­he succeeded.  Rastignac, who might have fought at need, like Jarnac, went over to the opinion of Henri II. on the strength of his great maxim, ’There is no such thing as absolute right; there are only circumstances.’  This brings us to the history of his fortune.”

“You might just as well make a start with your story instead of drawing us on to traduce ourselves,” said Blondet with urbane good humor.

“Aha! my boy,” returned Bixiou, administering a little tap to the back of Blondet’s head, “you are making up for lost time over the champagne!”

“Oh! by the sacred name of shareholder, get on with your story!” cried Couture.

“I was within an ace of it,” retorted Bixiou, “but you with your profanity have brought me to the climax.”

“Then, are there shareholders in the tale?” inquired Finot.

“Yes; rich as rich can be—­like yours.”

“It seems to me,” Finot began stiffly, “that some consideration is owing to a good fellow to whom you look for a bill for five hundred francs upon occasion——­”

“Waiter!” called Bixiou.

“What do you want with the waiter?” asked Blondet.

“I want five hundred francs to repay Finot, so that I can tear up my I. O. U. and set my tongue free.”

“Get on with your story,” said Finot, making believe to laugh.

“I take you all to witness that I am not the property of this insolent fellow, who fancies that my silence is worth no more than five hundred francs.  You will never be a minister if you cannot gauge people’s consciences.  There, my good Finot,” he added soothingly, “I will get on with my story without personalities, and we shall be quits.”

“Now,” said Couture with a smile, “he will begin to prove for our benefit that Nucingen made Rastignac’s fortune.”

“You are not so far out as you think,” returned Bixiou.  “You do not know what Nucingen is, financially speaking.”

“Do you know so much as a word as to his beginnings?” asked Blondet.

“I have only known him in his own house,” said Bixiou, “but we may have seen each other in the street in the old days.”