I'm cleaned out,
and so completely that I was just in the act of sending to Cerizet for
a hundred louis, when I lost at lansquenet this morning, at Jenny
Cadine's."
"You must indeed me hard-up if you can't oblige this poor Bixiou,"
said Leon de Lora; "for he can be very sharp-tongued when he hasn't a
sou."
"Well," said Bixiou, "I could never say anything but good of Vauvinet;
he's full of goods."
"My dear friend," said Vauvinet, "if I had the money, I couldn't
possibly discount, even at fifty per cent, notes which are drawn by
your porter. Ravenouillet's paper isn't in demand. He's not a
Rothschild. I warn you that his notes are worn thin; you had better
invent another firm. Find an uncle. As for a friend who'll sign notes
for us there's no such being to be found; the matter-of-factness of
the present age is making awful progress."
"I have a friend," said Bixiou, motioning to Leon's cousin. "Monsieur
here; one of the most distinguished manufacturers of cloth in the
South, named Gazonal. His hair is not very well dressed," added
Bixiou, looking at the touzled and luxuriant crop on the provincial's
head, "but I am going to take him to Marius, who will make him look
less like a poodle-dog, an appearance so injurious to his credit, and
to ours."
"I don't believe in Southern securities, be it said without offence to
monsieur," replied Vauvinet, with whom Gazonal was so entertained that
he did not resent his insolence.
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