"My nephew, who knows by what afflictions God is pleased to try us?"
"Ta, ta, ta, ta," said Grandet, "there's your nonsense beginning. I am
sorry to see those white hands of yours, nephew"; and he showed the
shoulder-of-mutton fists which Nature had put at the end of his own
arms. "There's a pair of hands made to pick up silver pieces. You've
been brought up to put your feet in the kid out of which we make the
purses we keep our money in. A bad look-out! Very bad!"
"What do you mean, uncle? I'll be hanged if I understand a single word