Grassins, the martial head of the banker, the faces of Adolphe, the
president, the abbe, and the notary, saying to himself:--

"They are all after my money. Hey! neither the one nor the other shall
have my daughter; but they are useful--useful as harpoons to fish
with."

This family gaiety in the old gray room dimly lighted by two tallow
candles; this laughter, accompanied by the whirr of Nanon's
spinning-wheel, sincere only upon the lips of Eugenie or her mother;
this triviality mingled with important interests; this young girl, who,
like certain birds made victims of the price put upon them, was now
lured and trapped by proofs of friendship of which she was the dupe,
--all these things contributed to make the scene a melancholy comedy.
Is it not, moreover, a drama of all times and all places, though here
brought down to its simplest expression? The figure of Grandet,
playing his own game with the false friendship of the two families and
getting enormous profits from it, dominates the scene and throws light
upon it. The modern god,--the only god in whom faith is preserved,
--money, is here, in all its power, manifested in a single countenance.
The tender sentiments of life hold here but a secondary place; only
the three pure, simple hearts of Nanon, of Eugenie, and of her mother
were inspired by them. And how much of ignorance there was in the
simplicity of these poor women! Eugenie and her mother knew nothing of
Grandet's wealth; they could only estimate the things of life by the
glimmer of their pale ideas, and they neither valued nor despised
money, because they were accustomed to do without it. Their feelings,
bruised, though they did not know it, but ever-living, were the secret
spring of their existence, and made them curious exceptions in the
midst of these other people whose lives were purely material.