But the French je ne sais quoi was revealed, above all, as the presence of a woman. Alexandra was there, drawing unobtrusive attention to herself, hailed in every speech in a much less pompous but considerably more elegant manner than her husband. And even within the walls of the Académie Française, where the smell of old furniture and fat, dusty volumes stifled us, this je ne sais quoi allowed her to preserve her femininity. Yes, even among these old men, whom we imagined to be peevish, pedantic, and a little deaf, on account of the hairs in their ears. One of them, the director, rose and with a glum expression declared the session open. Then he fell silent, as if to gather up his thoughts, which, we were sure, would quickly make all his listeners aware of the hardness of their wooden seats. The smell of dust grew thicker. Suddenly the old man lifted his head; a sly twinkle came into his eye, and he spoke: "Sire, Madame! Almost two hundred years ago Peter the Great arrived one day unexpectedly at the place where the members of the Académie were gathered and joined in their deliberations… Your Majesty does even more today: you have added one honor to another by not coming alone." (He turned to the empress.) "Your presence, Madame, will bring to our solemn proceedings something quite unaccustomed… Charm."
Nicholas and Alexandra exchanged rapid glances. And the orator, as if he had sensed that it was time to turn to the main topic, amplified the vibrations in his voice as he asked himself in a highly rhetorical manner: "May I be permitted to say it? Your show of interest addresses not only the Académie but our national language itself… Which for you is not a foreign language. In this we sense a particular desire to enter into more intimate communication with French taste and the French spirit…"