the rain," the girl said with solemnity.
A low, muffled laugh came from behind. "Shall I move the umbrella away then?"
Edith ignored him and quickened her pace forward. Andre hurriedly caught up with her holding up the umbrella.
"I''m glad you finally addressed me as ''thou''," the young man''s voice sounded fuzzy through the curtain of rain. "Is that a sign of reconciliation, or simply to comply with principles of the revolution?"
"You think too much. Obviously it''s the latter," Edith said proudly without looking back.
"It seems that I have grown complacent too soon." Andre sighed with a bitter smile. " I actually start to miss the old customs before the reforms. After all, I am too dull to sense your changing attitude immediately. Besides, if you address everyone as ''thou'', it would fail to reflect my uniqueness."
"Several years have past, it seems you have learned the art of flattery! " she remarked displeased, her gaze fixed on his soaking wet cheeks. "But, upon closer inspection, you really haven''t changed a bit!"
"Is that so? Your aunt has also expressed the same sentiment," Andre replied.
"I know. After getting home, she complained about you ruining her mood and called you an oddball. Frankly, why did you say such things at the time? What did you mean by ''curse of the devil''?" the maiden asked puzzledly.
"Then please apologise to her on my behalf," Andre''s deep-set blue eyes gazed at her through the mist of the rain. "For the first time, I now feel that it truly is a blessing."
---------------
"Edith? Edith?"
The hazy call gradually became clear and awakened the drowsy girl. She opened her bleary eyes, momentarily confused about her whereabouts, her face showing a perplexed expression.
In the next moment, she remembered she was sitting in the National Convention. The hall was still brightly lit at this hour, with the trial of the king underway, and the curious anticipation and fiery atmosphere made many willing to forego sweet slumber. Edith, too, stubbornly insisted on staying up here with Lucile Desmoulins to write the news report.
As the night wore on, Edith, who usually slept quite early, struggled to resist waves of childish drows