No; the still-proud Princess was not pleased. Not at all! Neither the aroma of fresh mulberry pies nor the midst of her uncle’s grotesque curios impressed her, and it was all because he wasn’t there. Intellectually, she realized that the ‘Parisian Pirate’, Miriam, the foreboding soldier-lover of her youthful imaginings, had a full life in which he was seeking a new life as a Foreign Legionnaire, and he could not be expected to hold any consideration for the pleasure of one quixotic girl. Intellectually, she knew this. And yet…
   Truly, it had been a most bloody, romantic day when Schuyler’s shocking revelation had brought him to her attention.
   At that moment the thud of fists, a muffled cry, fighting on the stairway shattered her composure into a million unconquerable, unknowable pieces! She nearly swooned. Surely it could not be — but it was! At the door, the foreboding and masculine face she had come to know so well! “All I have is yours,” he murmured in the outwardly-rough manner she had grown to love while there was a much-appreciated break in the formerly-incessant shelling. “I need you, Randy Lil!”
   Just then, as he dabbed at her tears with the handkerchief she herself had made for him, she knew that life without him was unthinkable, if not silent. Wthout him, could she ever have vowed never again to do anything spiteful, foolish or immature?