Considering her emotional inhibitions as shown in her affair with Nathan, and, more particularly, in view of the rigorous prudery of Boston at the time, it is unlikely that any of her numerous feminine attachments reached the point of overt expression. But the student of variance must forever regret the loss of those confessional passages obliterated by the three moral vigilantes who edited them. The only other episode of possible variant significance in her life (aside from her translating a part of the work of Günderode) was the effort she made to meet George Sand when she reached Europe in 1846. The famous woman was for a month or so away from Paris, and after her return she failed to answer Margaret’s note begging an interview. After a week of silence Margaret “took her courage into her hands” and risked a call. A servant’s error in reporting her name might even then have sent her away disappointed, but she persisted, and finally reached Sand in person. Writing to a friend about the encounter, she says: Our eyes met. I shall never forget her look at that moment.... Her face is very little like the portraits, but much finer; the upper part of the forehead and eyes are beautiful, the lower strong and masculine, expressive of a hardy temperament and strong passions, but not in the least coarse.... What fixed my attention was the expression of _goodness_, nobleness, and power that pervaded the whole.... As our eyes met she said, “C’est vous,” and held out her hand. I took it and went into her little study.... I loved, shall always love her.[3] Though pressed for time, Sand kept her for the greater part of the day and talked freely to her. Afterwards Margaret decided that despite her hostess’s constant smoking, and the fact that she had undoubtedly had “something of the bacchante in her life,” she had never liked any woman better than she liked George Sand. *Adah Isaacs Menken.* The difference in emotional climate between puritan Boston and exotic New Orleans could not be better illustrated than by setting against Margaret Fuller’s life that of the actress, dancer, poet and adventuress who attained fame as Adah Isaacs Menken. Encyclopedias are monotonously insistent that she was born Dolores Adios Fuertes, daughter of a Spanish Jew. Various other sources, among them the preface to an 1890 edition of her poems,[1] claim that she was Adelaide McCord, daughter of a storekeeper in a small Louisiana town. The truth is perhaps obscured forever by what another authority describes as “her own habit of romancing about herself and her origin.”[2] Thus some of the following picturesque details offered by Clement Wood should doubtless be liberally salted, but many are demonstrably true.