volution is like a runaway horse that can no longer be tamed. I am afraid that the scenes like the September Massacre will eventually be repeated."

"The September Massacre! You are using the language of the aristocrats and royalists!" Edith exclaimed in agitation.

"Wasn''t the event in September an insult to the ideals of the revolution?" Madame Roland countered.

"The people''s anger was just! Perhaps the means were not strictly legal, but those so-called victims were not innocent either! How could the soldiers of the Republic march to the front with peace of mind, if not eliminating the enemies threatening their loved ones from behind? Your words are nothing but harsh criticism!" Edith protested, her cheeks puffed up in wrath.

"Is that so? There was too much animalistic indulgence in that, pardon me for not complimenting it," Madame Roland replied coldly.

Edith slammed her hand on the table and stood up.

"Ah, yes, you are the only daughter of a wealthy family. You had governess and learned piano, dance, and etiquette, nothing different from those noble ladies at the top!"

Her shoulders were trembling as she yelled at her most admired idol.

"You have never run in the darkest alleys of the city, never seen those women who sold their dignity for a piece of bread, or the barefoot children with famished pallor! But I have seen them. You are right, in September there was a disgusting massacre. But are these women, these children not also victims of a massacre? Is this slow, soul-tearing slaughter not even more cruel