HONORE DE BALZAC
Katharine Prescott Wormeley
To Martinez de la Rosa.
The clock of the little town of Menda had just struck midnight. At
that moment a young French officer, leaning on the parapet of a long
terrace which bordered the gardens of the chateau de Menda, seemed
buried in thoughts that were deeper than comported with the light-
hearted carelessness of military life; though it must be said that