It was January 13th, 1908. Helen stood by the fountain in the grounds of Versailles palace. The talk around the palace was about how for the first time ever a long-distance radio message had been sent from the Eiffel Tower the day before. She was living in the country which had the most romantic city and she was waiting here to say goodbye to the man she loved. All the beauty of the palace gardens, which usually brought a beaming smile to her face, were failing to do so today. She was from ‘good stock’ and she was expected to marry fellow ‘good stock’. But she had fell for the chauffeur William. She hadn’t meant for it to happen but as he was driving her from function to function they had talked and laughed much and the stupid barriers of class fell away quickly beyond either his or her control.
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