ill made by the younger man; the
struggles in which men seek to preserve their self-respect by justifying
their blameworthy actions to themselves.

"He may do as he likes; I shall not marry Mlle. Taillefer, that is
certain," said Eugene to himself.

He regarded this man with abhorrence, and yet the very cynicism of
Vautrin's ideas, and the audacious way in which he used other men for
his own ends, raised him in the student's eyes; but the thought of a
compact threw Eugene into a fever of apprehension, and not until he
had recovered somewhat did he dress, call for a cab, and go to Mme. de
Restaud's.

For some days the Countess had paid more and more attention to a young
man whose every step seemed a triumphal progress in the great world; it
seemed to her that he might be a formidable power before long. He paid
Messieurs de Trailles and d'Ajuda, played at whist for part of the
evening, and made good his losses. Most men who have their way to make
are more or less of fatalists, and Eugene was superstitious; he chose to
consider that his luck was heaven's reward for his perseverance in the
right way. As soon as possible on the following morning he asked Vautrin
whether the bill he had given was still in the other's possession; and
on receiving a reply in the affirmative, he repaid the three thousand
francs with a not unnatural relief.

"Everything is going on well," said Vautrin.

"But I am not your accomplice," said Eugene.

"I know, I know," Vautrin broke in. "You are still acting like a child.
You are making mountains out of molehills at the outset."

Two days later, Poiret and Mlle. Michonneau were sitting together on
a bench in the sun. They had chosen a little frequented alley in the
Jardin des Plantes, and a gentleman was chatting with them, the same
person, as a matter of fact, about whom the medical student had, not
without good reason, his own suspicions.

"Mademoiselle," this M. Gondureau was saying, "I do not see any
cause for your scruples. His Excellency, Monseigneur the Minister of
Police----"

"Yes, his Excellency is taking a personal interest in the matter," said
Gondureau.

Who would think it probable that Poiret, a retired clerk, doubtless
possessed of some notions of civic virtue, though there might be nothing
else in his head--who would think it likely that such a man would
continue to lend an ear to this supposed independent gentleman of the
Rue de Buffon, when the latter dropped the mask