carelessly coiled about her head, as is the wont of Parisian women in
the morning; there was a soft fragrance about her--doubtless she was
fresh from a bath;--her graceful form seemed more flexible, her beauty
more luxuriant. Her eyes glistened. A young man can see everything at
a glance; he feels the radiant influence of woman as a plant discerns
and absorbs its nutriment from the air; he did not need to touch her
hands to feel their cool freshness. He saw faint rose tints through
the cashmere of the dressing gown; it had fallen slightly open, giving
glimpses of a bare throat, on which the student's eyes rested. The
Countess had no need of the adventitious aid of corsets; her girdle
defined the outlines of her slender waist; her throat was a challenge
to love; her feet, thrust into slippers, were daintily small. As
Maxime took her hand and kissed it, Eugene became aware of Maxime's
existence, and the Countess saw Eugene.

"Oh! is that you M. de Rastignac? I am very glad to see you," she
said, but there was something in her manner that a shrewd observer
would have taken as a hint to depart.

Maxime, as the Countess Anastasie had called the young man with the
haughty insolence of bearing, looked from Eugene to the lady, and from
the lady to Eugene; it was sufficiently evident that he wished to be
rid of the latter. An exact and faithful rendering of the glance might
be given in the words: "Look here, my dear; I hope you intend to send
this little whipper-snapper about his business."

The Countess consulted the young man's face with an intent
submissiveness that betrays all the secrets of a woman's heart, and
Rastignac all at once began to hate him violently. To begin with, the
sight of the fair carefully arranged curls on the other's comely head