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The excerpt represents the core issue or deciding factor on which you must meditate, and is drawn from The Lesser Bourgeoisie by Honore de Balzac: make my fortune and render me immortal. Well, that miserable Felix
prevented it. From time to time, pretending to bring messages from my
editor, he would say, the young sycophant, 'Papa Picot, your book is
selling finely; here's five hundred francs--two hundred francs--and
once it was two thousand--which your publisher charged me to give
you.' This thing went on for years, and my publisher, who had the
baseness to enter into the plot, would say to me, when I went to the
shop: 'Yes, yes, it doesn't do badly, it BUBBLES, that book; we shall
soon be at the end of this edition.' I, who didn't suggest anything, I
pocketed my money, and thought to myself: 'My book is liked, little by
little its ideas are making their way; I may now expect, from day to
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