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The terrific and vivid force of the feeling that had survived the power of thought made such an impression on the students, that the dying man felt their hot tears falling on him, and gave a shrill cry of delight. "Nasie! Fifine!" "There is life in him yet," said Bianchon. "What does he go on living for?" said Sylvie. "To suffer," answered Rastignac.
Fifine knew only too well what it all meant, as her soft infantile face, incongruously maternal with compassion, bent above the hideous record of a hideous deed.
A gold locket and chain a heart-shaped locket, with a chip diamond in the center!" "The eternal feminine!" Blaine commented; and then he added half under his breath: "Fifine Déchaussée's on the job!" "What, sir?" asked the operative curiously. "Nothing, Guy. Merely an idle observation. Go on with your story."
" he clutched at his tousled locks. "Yes yes, I see. It always goes to the head," said Odalie, demurely. "Don't laugh at me," he exclaimed, "but how had you the heart and Sandy's hair always in such trim-wise, and you and Fifine like people of fashion."
The internal suggestion, as Mrs Orr hints, lay in a certain mood of resentment against himself arising from the fact that the encroachments of the world seemed to estrange in some degree a part of his complex being from entire fidelity to his own past. The world, in fact, seemed to be playing with Browning the part of a Fifine.
Great heavens! my brain is on fire; it is as if there were something redhot inside my head. My Delphine lying on straw! You! my Fifine! Good gracious! Where are my gloves? Come, let us go at once; I mean to see everything with my own eyes books, cash, and correspondence, the whole business. I shall have no peace until I know for certain that your fortune is secure."
Fifine had hoped madly for the storm to keep off, and now as her fleet steps brought her nearer the rendezvous at the end of the avenue, her heart misgave her, and an indescribable feeling of awe, that had something of a dread presentiment in it, filled her very soul.
She was wearing a quilted red silk petticoat and a bunched sacque of black flowered silk. She had magnificent dark eyes and white hair. Under it her peaked little face was the colour of old ivory. She was calling to her dog, "Fifine, Fifine, where can you be?" A respectable-looking elderly maid came hurrying after her.
Another moment and sleep would have come in its precious mercy to solace the poor afflicted soul, the wild staring eyes had been subdued into drowsiness, and the angel of balm was coaxing the tired limbs into repose, when a loud sigh broke upon the sleep- inducing silence, and disturbed the unfortunate Fifine. She opened her eyes suddenly again and waited for a repetition.
"She is flourishing away, using big words that you cannot make head or tail of." Amelie, Fifine, Adrien, and Francis appeared in the doorway with Mme. de Rastignac, who came to look for her daughter. "Nais," cried the two ladies, both delighted to break in upon the quiet chat in the boudoir, "it would be very nice of you to come and play something for us."
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