“Is it not honorable to reinstate his father-in-law?”
“There would be ground for contention; besides—”
“Besides,” exclaimed Pillerault, pretending anger, “you may have the right to immolate yourself if you choose, but you have no right to immolate your daughter.”
A vehement discussion ensued, which Pillerault designedly excited.
“Hey! if Popinot lent you nothing,” cried Pillerault, “if he had called you his partner, if he had considered the price which he paid to the creditors for your share in the Oil as an advance upon the profits, so as not to strip you of everything—”
“I should have seemed to rob my creditors in collusion with him.”
Pillerault feigned to be defeated by this argument. He knew the human heart well enough to be certain that during the night Cesar would go over the question in his own mind, and the mental discussion would accustom him to the idea of his complete vindication.
“But how came my wife and daughter to be in our old appartement?” asked Birotteau, while they were dining.
“Anselme wants to hire it, and live there with Cesarine. Your wife is on his side. They have had the banns published without saying anything about it, so as to force you to consent. Popinot says there will be much less merit in marrying Cesarine after you are reinstated. You take six thousand francs from the king, and you won’t accept anything from your relations! I can well afford to give you a receipt in full for all that is owing to me; do you mean to refuse it?”
“No,” said Cesar; “but that won’t keep me from saving up everything to pay you.”