
It was going to be a beautiful night. It was 1933 and hedonistic Paris resonated with the tumult of the parties thrown by Diaghilev. She reached for her perfume bottle, a gift from Jacques Guerlain, in a gesture that had become a reflex. With a shy smile, he had confessed that he had chosen the name while day-dreaming of faraway islands: the Leeward Islands, in French named Les Îles Sous le Vent.
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