“Oh! what happiness!” cried Goriot.
“But young Taillefer has been called out; the duel comes off to-morrow morning, and I have heard it said that he may lose his life in it.”
“But what business is it of yours?” said Goriot.
“Why, I ought to tell him so, that he may prevent his son from putting in an appearance——”
Just at that moment Vautrin’s voice broke in upon them; he was standing at the threshold of his door and singing:
“Oh! Richard, oh my king!
All the world abandons thee!
Broum! broum! broum! broum! broum!
The same old story everywhere,
A roving heart and a... tra la la.”
“Gentlemen!” shouted Christophe, “the soup is ready, and every one is waiting for you.”
“Here,” Vautrin called down to him, “come and take a bottle of my Bordeaux.”
“Do you think your watch is pretty?” asked Goriot. “She has good taste, hasn’t she? Eh?”
Vautrin, Father Goriot, and Rastignac came downstairs in company, and, all three of them being late, were obliged to sit together.