Vauvinet winked an eye at Bixiou; the wink that two jockeys give each other when they want to say: “Don’t try trickery.”
“Don’t you remember catching me round the waist as if I were a pretty woman,” said Bixiou, “and coaxing me with look and speech, and saying, ‘I’ll do anything for you if you’ll only get me shares at par in that railroad du Tillet and Nucingen have made an offer for?’ Well, old fellow, du Tillet and Nucingen are coming to Carabine’s to-night, where they will meet a number of political characters. You’ve lost a fine opportunity. Good-bye to you, old carrot.”
Bixiou rose, leaving Vauvinet apparently indifferent, but inwardly annoyed by the sense that he had committed a folly.
“One moment, my dear fellow,” said the money-lender. “Though I haven’t the money, I have credit. If your notes are worth nothing, I can keep them and give you notes in exchange. If we can come to an agreement about that railway stock we could share the profits, of course in due proportion and I’ll allow you that on—”
“No, no,” said Bixiou, “I want money in hand, and I must get those notes of Ravenouillet’s cashed.”
“Ravenouillet is sound,” said Vauvinet. “He puts money into the savings-bank; he is good security.”
“Better than you,” interposed Leon, “for HE doesn’t stipend lorettes; he hasn’t any rent to pay; and he never rushes into speculations which keep him dreading either a rise or fall.”
“You think you can laugh at me, great man,” returned Vauvinet, once more jovial and caressing; “you’ve turned La Fontaine’s fable of ‘Le Chene et le Roseau’ into an elixir—Come, Gubetta, my old accomplice,” he continued, seizing Bixiou round the waist, “you want money; well, I can borrow three thousand francs from my friend Cerizet instead of two; ‘Let us be friends, Cinna!’ hand over your colossal cabbages,—made to trick the public like a gardener’s catalogue. If I refused you it was because it is pretty hard on a man who can only do his poor little business by turning over his money, to have to keep your Ravenouillet notes in the drawer of his desk. Hard, hard, very hard!”
“What discount do you want?” asked Bixiou.
“Next to nothing,” returned Vauvinet. “It will cost you a miserable fifty francs at the end of the quarter.”