"I demand to speak."
The audience turned their curious eyes towards the young girl at the centre of the room. Raising her slender arm, she gestured for silence.
"Please listen to me," she began, her demeanor calm yet proud. "I can vouch for Citizen Quenet. My family used to know him well in Rouen. He was no aristocrat. He was a poor painter who lived in a poky inn with people in worn-out trousers. His sleeves had holes, and his shoes were patched.
"I witnessed him skipping meals, yet helping homeless children with the only coins he had! Quenet is more innocent and righteous than anyone else present."
Beside her, Philippe stood onto a chair, stretching his arm. The candid young man raised his voice to address the entire room.
"I, Philippe Percy, also guarantee Citizen Quenet''s repute! The accusations against him are either the slander of hypocrites seeking to conceal their own infamy, or the foolish belief in ridiculous lies spread by cheaters!"
The club fell silent for a few moments before a man''s voice suddenly cried out, "Vive Quenet!"
Soon, more and more people began shouting with fervor, "Vive Quenet! Vive Robespierre!"
Edith looked up at the podium with relief, meeting Andre''s gaze from behind, who shared a knowing smile with her.
After leaving the club, Andre expressed his gratitude to the siblings.
"I was just telling the truth," Philippe laughed heartily.
"Thank you, Edith," Andre looked directly at the girl. "You are truly brave."
"I guess I''ve returned the favour to you," Edith tossed her braids proudly, but also with a touch of shyness.
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After the event at the club, Andre Quenet began to frequent the Percys more and more, joining them for dinner whenever he could.
In private, he was sincere and amiable. Coupled that lovable appearance of his, even Aunt Adele, who had always harboured prejudices against revolutionaries, began to regard him as family.
On some evenings, the family would sit together to read classics. Andre declaiming verses and plays to them, Philippe and Margot looked up to him with admiration.
Edith came across some journal articles about Andre Quenet, the spokesperson in the National Convention. Reporters described him in either disdainful or awed tones, portraying him as ruthless and callous. Some even wrote that he was arrogant to the point of disgust, "carrying him