When a woman wants to please a man, she needs a good figure. I am too thin. So tomorrow I shall fill the frond of my dress with something. Then I shall look really grown up. Of course, I am grown up already; but nobody else seems to know that.

Last November I was fourteen. Papa gave me this diary then for a birthday present.

“What shall I write in it?” I asked him. Its a beautiful diary, but the pages are rather large.

Papa smiled and kissed me. “Write the story of Mademoiselle Desiree Clary,” he said. Then a worried look came into his face. Since our great revolution he has often had that look.

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