At Mrs. Edeltrudes’
The French Revolution numbers among her antiquated enthusiasms. Lafayette, Mirabeau, Danton, Marat, Robespierre—she jumbles them all in the same feverish admiration. She still rants against the bloodthirsty rage of Louis XVI and the bacchanalia of Marie Antoinette. She is sure that when the Bastille was taken, it was found to be crammed … Read more