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Eugenie and her mother silently exchanged a glance of intelligence.Madame Grandet was a dry, thin woman, as yellow as a quince, awkward,slow, one of those women who are born to be down-trodden. She had bigbones, a big nose, a big forehead, big eyes, and presented at firstsight a vague resemblance to those mealy fruits that have neithersavor nor succulence. Her teeth were black and few in number, hermouth was wrinkled, her chin long and pointed. She was an excellentwoman, a true la Bertelliere. L'abbe Cruchot found occasionalopportunity to tell her that she had not done ill; and she believedhim. Angelic sweetness, the resignation of an insect tortured bychildren, a rare piety, a good heart, an unalterable equanimity ofsoul, made her universally pitied and respected. Her husband nevergave her more than six francs at a time for her personal expenses.Ridiculous as it may seem, this woman, who by her own fortune and hervarious inheritances brought Pere Grandet more than three hundredthousand francs, had always felt so profoundly humiliated by herdependence and the slavery in which she lived, against which thegentleness of her spirit prevented her from revolting, that she hadnever asked for one penny or made a single remark on the deeds whichMaitre Cruchot brought for her signature. This foolish secret pride,this nobility of soul perpetually misunderstood and wounded byGrandet, ruled the whole conduct of the wife.

Madame Grandet was attired habitually in a gown of greenish levantinesilk, endeavoring to make it last nearly a year; with it she wore alarge kerchief of white cotton cloth, a bonnet made of plaited strawssewn together, and almost always a black-silk apron. As she seldomleft the house she wore out very few shoes. She never asked anythingfor herself. Grandet, seized with occasional remorse when heremembered how long a time had elapsed since he gave her the last sixfrancs, always stipulated for the "wife's pin-money" when he sold hisyearly vintage. The four or five louis presented by the Belgian or theDutchman who purchased the wine were the chief visible signs of MadameGrandet's annual revenues. But after she had received the five louis,her husband would often say to her, as though their purse were held incommon: "Can you lend me a few sous?" and the poor woman, glad to beable to do something for a man whom her confessor held up to her asher lord and master, returned him in the course of the winter severalcrowns out of the "pin-money." When Grandet drew from his pocket thefive-franc piece which he allowed monthly for the minor expenses,,thread, needles, and toilet,,of his daughter, he never failed to sayas he buttoned his breeches' pocket: "And you, mother, do you wantanything?"

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"My friend," Madame Grandet would answer, moved by a sense of maternaldignity, "we will see about that later."

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Wasted dignity! Grandet thought himself very generous to his wife.Philosophers who meet the like of Nanon, of Madame Grandet, ofEugenie, have surely a right to say that irony is at the bottom of theways of Providence.

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After the dinner at which for the first time allusion had been made toEugenie's marriage, Nanon went to fetch a bottle of black-currantratafia from Monsieur Grandet's bed-chamber, and nearly fell as shecame down the stairs. wig emoji

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"You great stupid!" said her master; "are you going to tumble aboutlike other people, hey?"

"Monsieur, it was that step on your staircase which has given way.""She is right," said Madame Grandet; "it ought to have been mendedlong ago. Yesterday Eugenie nearly twisted her ankle."

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