She has a lovely figure and a classical face.

Has she any sense ?" At that moment how unspeakably Anton despised his friend! Such an expression as that could only proceed from the most degraded of human beings.
"Sense!" exclaimed he, casting on Fink a look of deadly enmity; "he who doubts it must be utterly devoid of sense himself." "Well, well!" exclaimed Fink, in amazement; "I am not in that melancholy plight, for I think the girl, or rather the young lady, uncommonly lovely; and, had I not some small engagements elsewhere, I might feel constrained to choose her for the mistress of my affections.

As it is, I can only admire her afar off." "You are right," said Anton, squeezing his arm.
"Really," returned Fink, in his usual careless tone, "you begin well, it must be allowed; go on, my son, and prosper." And Anton did go on, and did his Mentor honor.

He was indeed intoxicated, but not with wine.

The music, the excitement of the dance, the gay scene around, inspired him; he felt self-confident, nay, daring; and, one or two trifling solecisms excepted, behaved as if he had been surrounded by waxlights and obsequious domestics all the days of his life.