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.
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