dy weighing heavily enough on me." he looked at her with a touch of bitterness in his eyes, his tone both hurt and playful.
"Then let me make it up to you, poor little thing," Edith rolled her eyes mischievously. "Bring me pen and paper, up to the bed."
"What are you planning?" Andre couldn''t fathom.
"You''ll see soon enough," she winked at him.
Andre shrugged and left the bedroom. Soon, he returned and handed the requested items to Edith.
Edith lay prone on the bed, scribbling away on the paper. Her two shins playfully kicked up high, her restless feet swinging to and fro.
Andre curiously peered over her shoulder and read, "…those who accuse others of being dictators, tyrants, and executioners, are they really driven by compassion for the bloodshed? They confuse the public with their words, portraying the retribution for criminals as if they were martyrs. It''s hard not to recall the Brissotins'' hard work in their attempt to evoke sympathy for the king. If these ones turn a blind eye to the people''s suffering, yet are so quick to empathise with conspirators, then Lady Liberty could only conclude that their blood is no purer than those."②
"Now I become your hack writer!" Edith turned her head and wittily smiled at him.
"Grateful beyond words," he smiled with relief, placing both hands on her shoulders and massaging this sharp-tongued little journalist.
Edith bit down on the quill, proudly announcing her idea. "The snobs say that Lady Guillotine is Quenet''s mistress. Then in response I shall declare that your one true love is none other than France herself."
"And you," he whispered softly in her ear as he leaned in.
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"Charlene! Best friend!" The moment she entered the old hut of the Saint-Clemonts, Edith flew towards Charlene''s wheelchair like a bird spreading its wings.
"You''ve come to see me, dear Edith," the former noble girl''s face blossomed with a tender smile. "I''ve always been thinking of you, but I can''t leave home. Seeing you so aglow once more, I''m so happy."
Edith took Charlene''s thin, frail hands and sighed. "You''re my benefactress now!"
"Don''t make fun of me like that, Edith," Charlene smiled wi