You were surrounded by the glitter of faceted glasses, the ladies' lush, powdery dresses, the shine of gold jewelry and polished mirrors. The air was filled with the scent of various perfumes, mixed with the heat of Turkish tobacco, making you dizzy. You knew how to elegantly dance, punt in a game or cards, and chat sweetly with young men, but this false noble society was completely alien to you. You adapted to its rules only because it was necessary.

So when your best friend introduced you to a foreigner who had come to this ball by invitation, Il Capitano, your young heart began to swell with newfound sympathy. He was governed by completely different principles, he was familiar with different norms and rules, and you were helplessly drawn to him. Nothing seemed to hinder you, but he was cold and closed-off, like the northern winds, and did not pay much attention to you.

He was much older than you, but you didn't mind. He was a breath of fresh air.