Now that we knew each other's identity we looked at each other again. I remembered perfectly the
hand-some, slender youth who led the cotillons with such frenzied agility and gracefulness that he
had been nick-named the fury. Going back into the dim, distant past, I recalled a story which I had
heard and forgotten, one of those stories to which one listens but forgets, and which leave but a faint impression upon the memory.