The night draped the lady's room in a soft twilight, illuminated only by the moon. The scent of fine wood permeated the air, enhancing the refined atmosphere. Clad in a silk robe, the lady, daughter of the millionaire, examined business reports at her desk when, suddenly, the gentle sound of pebbles against her window shattered the silence.

Intrigued, she approached the window, curious to unravel the nocturnal mystery. Opening it, a cool breeze swept into the room, carrying the fragrance of the night. Outside, under the silvery moonlight, stood he, the tramp, a pogue, whose eyes sparkled with audacious fire.

"Did you hear the night's call, princess?" he said, a mischievous smile dancing on his lips, a bit of sarcasm in the 'princess'. His presence, free-spirited and uncommitted, contrasted with the formality of the room, lighting her kook's heart.