moulins speak to the men in such a playful tone. She was obviously amazed to see such sharp wit and humour dance effortlessly from those beautiful lips of such a genteel lady, without an iota of compromising her feminine charm.
"Cheers to the Republic!" Amidst the festive revelry, Camille Desmoulins was the first to raise his glass high above his head.
"Long live the Revolution!" shouted Danton, cupping his hands like a megaphone and bellowing into the open field.
Edith''s excitement was all at once aroused. She waved her arms in the air, exclaiming, "I want to drink too!"
"Edith!" scolded Charlene.
But Danton idly poured a full cup and handed it to Edith. "What''s the harm? Who says young ladies are only allowed to drink juice and honey water? Here is the republic of liberty. Equality means everyone has the equal right to drink themselves dead drunk. Here''s to you, citizeness!"
Edith held the cup in both hands, proud as she downed it in one gulp. To be honest, the liquor wasn''t as sweet as she imagined; it burned her throat, bitter and choking. She desperately suppressed herself to hold back a violent cough.
"A toast to the liberty we were born with!" her cheeks flushed in an instant. Giddy with happiness, she raised her cup high, saying loudly to everyone.
"To friendship," smiled Charlene.
"To family," Lucile raised her glass of apple juice.
"To love and the gorgeous, audacious goddesses!" Danton laughed heartily, leaning in to kiss his wife''s cheek.
Edith''s joy ignited everyone in presence, except for Raphael Saint-Clemont. He gazed at her with a smile, occasionally sipping the bitter wine, yet a look of melancholy always remained in his eyes.