Everyone knew her name. Men shouted it in the cafes of Budapest; women whispered it in the court of Vienna. Her name spoke of the sweetness of chocolate; her eyes betrayed the coldness of ice.
Her dancing emboldened them; her rebuffs enflamed them. In the fiery steps of the Zambra she found forgetfulness; in the arms of other men her proud heart sought its revenge on the hussar captain who held her very soul in thrall.