"My boy, this matter is not one to be settled in a day. Cesarine is
her own mistress, and her mother has fixed ideas. Control yourself,
wipe your eyes, hold your heart in hand, and don't let us talk any
more about it. I should not blush to have you for my son-in-law. The
nephew of Monsieur Popinot, a judge of the civil courts, nephew of the
Ragons, you have the right to make your way as well as anybody; but
there are _buts_ and _ifs_ and _hows_ and _whys_. What a devil of a
dog you have let loose upon me, in the midst of a business
conversation! Here, sit down on that chair, and let the lover give
place to the clerk. Popinot, are you a loyal man?" he said, looking
fixedly at the youth. "Do you feel within you the nerve to struggle
with something stronger than yourself, and fight hand to hand?"

"Yes, monsieur."

"To maintain a long and dangerous battle?"

"What for?"

"To destroy Macassar Oil!" said Birotteau, rising on his toes like a
hero in Plutarch. "Let us not mistake; the enemy is strong, well
entrenched, formidable! Macassar Oil has been vigorously launched. The
conception was strong. The square bottles were original; I have
thought of making ours triangular. Yet on the whole I prefer, after
ripe reflection, smaller bottles of thin glass, encased in wicker;
they would have a mysterious look, and customers like things which
puzzle them."

"They would be expensive," said Popinot. "We must get things out as
cheap as we can, so as to make a good reduction at wholesale."