"
"Do you think that a man of intellect having once understood the
nature of Paris could live elsewhere?" said Leon to his cousin.
"Suppose we take Gazonal to old Mere Fontaine?" said Bixiou, making a
sign to the driver of a citadine to draw up; "it will be a step from
the real to the fantastic. Driver, Vieille rue du Temple."
And all three were presently rolling in the direction of the Marais.
"What are you taking me to see now?" asked Gazonal.
"The proof of what Bixiou told you," replied Leon; "we shall show you
a woman who makes twenty thousand francs a year by working a fantastic
idea."
"A fortune-teller," said Bixiou, interpreting the look of the
Southerner as a question. "Madame Fontaine is thought, by those who
seek to pry into the future, to be wiser in her wisdom than
Mademoiselle Lenormand."
"She must be very rich," remarked Gazonal.
"She was the victim of her own idea, as long as lotteries existed,"
said Bixiou; "for in Paris there are no great gains without
corresponding outlays. The strongest heads are liable to crack there,
as if to give vent to their steam. Those who make much money have
vices or fancies,--no doubt to establish an equilibrium."
"And now that the lottery is abolished?" asked Gazonal.
"Oh! now she has a nephew for whom she is hoarding.
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