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.