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The convent-bred Marie Charlotte Corday d'Armont was the daughter of a landless squire of Normandy, a member of the chétive noblesse, a man of gentle birth, whose sadly reduced fortune may have predisposed him against the law of entail or primogeniture the prime cause of the inequality out of which were sprung so many of the evils that afflicted France.
The boundless sea the sky. On either side, the cliffs of Etretat with their three natural archways: the Porte d'Armont, the Porte d'Aval, the Manneporte so many triumphal arches for the master. And the master was I! I was the king of the story, the king of fairyland, the king of the Hollow Needle! A strange and supernatural kingdom! From Caesar to Lupin: what a destiny!" He burst out laughing.
This extraordinary person was the daughter of M. d'Armont, and she passed into the immortality of history as Charlotte Corday. She was twenty-four. Her father was a royalist, but she had read Raynal, and had the classical enthusiasm which was bred by Plutarch in those as well as in other days. She had refused the health of Lewis XVI., because, she said, he was a good man, but a bad king.
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