Meeting Andre again（1 / 4）

On a day in early December of the year 1792 - now Frimaire of the Year I of the Republic - eighteen-year-old Edith leaned on the dining table, reading aloud from a newspaper.

The naughty girl from Rouen had grown into a Parisian young lady.

By the standards of old-fashioned aesthetics, she would not be considered particularly stunning. Her figure was somewhat too thin, her skin not quite fair and tender due to frequent outdoor activities, and her golden-brown hair lacked purity, curls untamed without proper grooming. In a word, upon closer inspection, she would not bear scrutiny.

However, were a republican painter like David, who later created "The Death of Marat," to judge her, he would praise her like he had found a treasure: her shoulders were naturally relaxed, her snubby tiny nose slightly irregular but ingenious beyond description, and her bright amber eyes shone like torches.

What impressed people most was her lively and carefree demeanor - a posture that only a girl who had never been restrained could possess, which was extremely rare in this era.

Seated by the fireplace, Margot, Edith''s sister, was listening to her reading with a gentle smile, wrapped in thick clothes due to her frail body.

Margot would be regarded as a classical beauty. She looked unlike Edith, perhaps inherited more of her father''s features, with pale complexion, dark pupils, and bushy, almost straight black hair that exuded elegance and poise. It seemed that the rich lady from long ago whom Aunt Adele had been incessantly chattered about, was not entirely unfounded.

Their brother Philippe paced around the room. The young man had just turned twenty-five and had recently become an honorable member of the National Convention.

There wasn''t much to describe about him. Philippe didn''t stand out much, all we can say is that his appearance was as upright as his character.

Aunt Adele walked in, carrying a few ingredie