“‘Ah,’ he went on, ‘this protracted suicide has nothing in common with the bankrupt grocer’s demise. Tradespeople have brought the river into disrepute; they fling themselves in to soften their creditors’ hearts. In your place I should endeavor to die gracefully; and if you wish to invent a novel way of doing it, by struggling with life after this manner, I will be your second. I am disappointed and sick of everything. The Alsacienne, whom it was proposed that I should marry, had six toes on her left foot; I cannot possibly live with a woman who has six toes! It would get about to a certainty, and then I should be ridiculous. Her income was only eighteen thousand francs; her fortune diminished in quantity as her toes increased. The devil take it; if we begin an outrageous sort of life, we may come on some bit of luck, perhaps!’
“Rastignac’s eloquence carried me away. The attractions of the plan shone too temptingly, hopes were kindled, the poetical aspects of the matter appealed to a poet.
“‘How about money?’ I said.
“‘Haven’t you four hundred and fifty francs?’
“‘Yes, but debts to my landlady and the tailor——’
“‘You would pay your tailor? You will never be anything whatever, not so much as a minister.’
“‘But what can one do with twenty louis?’
“‘Go to the gaming-table.’
“I shuddered.
“‘You are going to launch out into what I call systematic dissipation,’ said he, noticing my scruples, ‘and yet you are afraid of a green table-cloth.’