and distinguishes her above all others? Whence that sylph-like
lightness which seems to negative the laws of gravitation? Is the soul
become ambient? Has happiness a physical effluence?

The ingenuousness of a girl, the graces of a child were discernible
under the domino. Though they walked apart, these two beings suggested
the figures of Flora and Zephyr as we see them grouped by the
cleverest sculptors; but they were beyond sculpture, the greatest of
the arts; Lucien and his pretty domino were more like the angels
busied with flowers or birds, which Gian Bellini has placed beneath
the effigies of the Virgin Mother. Lucien and this girl belonged to
the realm of fancy, which is as far above art as cause is above
effect.

When the domino, forgetful of everything, was within a yard of the
group, Bixiou exclaimed:

"Esther!"

The unhappy girl turned her head quickly at hearing herself called,
recognized the mischievous speaker, and bowed her head like a dying
creature that has drawn its last breath.

A sharp laugh followed, and the group of men melted among the
crowd like a knot of frightened field-rats whisking into their
holes by the roadside. Rastignac alone went no further than was
necessary, just to avoid making any show of shunning Lucien's
flashing eye. He could thus note two phases of distress equally
deep though unconfessed; first, the hapless Torpille, stricken as
by a lightning stroke, and then the inscrutable mask, the only