’ An expression of livid fury contorted the young man’s face and he thrust the coins back at the major. Good night. She flew up the covered stairs and knocked upon his door. He had reacted by laughing at her, informing her coolly that she was naïve in many things. I often think of those delightful evenings in Paris. A little table covered with a damask cloth was dragged out. It is for that reason that this novel begins with her there, and neither earlier nor later, for it is the history of this crisis and its consequences that this novel has to tell. The intruder was handsomely, even richly, attired in a scarlet riding-suit, embroidered with gold; a broad belt, to which a hanger was attached, crossed his shoulders; his boots rose above his knee, and he carried a laced hat in his hand. I haven't forgotten her previous history. I admit it. Hurt beyond what he could imagine by the selfishness and pride of her forbears, whose fateful disputes had robbed her of the life she should have led, the plucky little devil had taken matters into her own hands.
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