“Do you know, Baron,” said de Marsay, “that you have grown very thin? You are suspected of violating the laws of financial Nature.”
“Ach, nefer!” said the Baron.
“Yes, yes,” replied de Marsay. “They dare to say that you are in love.”
“Dat is true,” replied Nucingen piteously; “I am in lof for somebody I do not know.”
“You, in love, you? You are a coxcomb!” said the Chevalier d’Espard.
“In lof, at my aje! I know dat is too ridiculous. But vat can I help it! Dat is so.”
“A woman of the world?” asked Lucien.
“Nay,” said de Marsay. “The Baron would not grow so thin but for a hopeless love, and he has money enough to buy all the women who will or can sell themselves!”
“I do not know who she it,” said the Baron. “And as Motame de Nucingen is inside de trawing-room, I may say so, dat till now I have nefer known what it is to lof. Lof! I tink it is to grow tin.”
“And where did you meet this innocent daisy?” asked Rastignac.