“Colonel Burr was at the reception, and I danced with him. Then—right after—ah, l’ironie, the irony! I danced with Mr. Hamilton. Curious, come to think of it. I admired them both, yet both were tiny and I’ve always been partial to tall men.”
Madame’s gaze took in my own less than tall figure. She gave me a coquettish smile. “But my passion, my adoration seems reserved for me of small stature but unique quality, comme l’Empereur. Vive Napoléon!” She shouted suddenly, causing a group of upstate Quakers—Poughkeepsie writ large on their dull faces—to scatter before her furious progress.
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