Honoré de Balzac,
Eugénie Grandet — Chapter XI
“ There! we've made up—haven't we, little one? No more dry bread; you shall have all you want—Ah, she opens her eyes! Well, mother, little mother, come! See, I'm kissing Eugenie! She loves her cousin, and she may marry him if she wants to; she may keep his case. But don't die, mother; live a long time yet, my poor wife! Come, try to move! Listen! you shall have the finest altar that ever was made in Saumur.""Oh, how can you treat your wife and daughter so!" said Madame Grandet in a feeble voice. ”
