Father Goriot

Excerpt: ... very unhappy; did I not tell you so the day before yesterday? Golden chains are the heaviest of all fetters." When a woman tells a young man that she is very unhappy, and when the young man is clever, and well dressed, and has fifteen hundred francs lying idle in his pocket, he is sure to think as Eugene said, and he becomes a coxcomb. "What can you have left to wish for?" he answered. "You are young, beautiful, beloved, and rich." "Do not let us talk of my affairs," she said shaking her head mournfully. "We will dine together tete-a-tete, and afterwards we will go to hear the most exquisite music. Am I to your taste?" she went on, rising and displaying her gown of white cashmere, covered with Persian designs in the most superb taste. "I wish that you were altogether mine," said Eugene; "you are charming." "You would have a forlorn piece of property," she said, smiling bitterly. "There is nothing about me that betrays my wretchedness; and yet, in spite of appearances, I am in despair. I cannot sleep; my troubles have broken my night's rest; I shall grow ugly." "Oh! that is impossible," cried the law student; "but I am curious to know what these troubles can be that a devoted love cannot efface." "Ah! if I were to tell you about them, you would shun me," she said. "Your love for me is as yet only the conventional gallantry that men use to masquerade in; and, if you really loved me, you would be driven to despair. I must keep silence, you see. Let us talk of something else, for pity's sake," she added. "Let me show you my rooms." "No; let us stay here," answered Eugene; he sat down on the sofa before the fire, and boldly took Mme. de Nucingen's hand in his. She surrendered it to him; he even felt the pressure of her fingers in one of the spasmodic clutches that betray terrible agitation. "Listen," said Rastignac; "if you are in trouble, you ought to tell me about it. I want to prove to you that I love you for yourself alone. You must speak to me...