of destroying Cesar, and he was not mistaken. Forced at last to give
up his mistress, the notary drank the dregs of his philter from a
broken chalice. He went every day to the Champs Elysees returning home
early in the morning. The suspicions of Madame Cesar were justified.

* * * * *

From the moment when a man consents to play the part which du Tillet
had allotted to Roguin, he develops the talents of a comedian; he has
the eye of a lynx and the penetration of a seer; he magnetizes his
dupe. The notary had seen Birotteau some time before Birotteau had
caught sight of him; when the perfumer did see him, Roguin held out
his hand before they met.

"I have just been to make the will of a great personage who has only
eight days to live," he said, with an easy manner. "They have treated
me like a country doctor,--fetched me in a carriage, and let me walk
home on foot."

These words chased away the slight shade of suspicion which clouded
the face of the perfumer, and which Roguin had been quick to perceive.
The notary was careful not to be the first to mention the land
speculation; his part was to deal the last blow.

"After wills come marriage contracts," said Birotteau. "Such is life.
Apropos, when do we marry the Madeleine? Hey! hey! papa Roguin," he
added, tapping the notary on the stomach.

Among men the most chaste of bourgeois have the ambition to appear
rakish.