"In an old house in Paris that was covered with vines...Lived twelve little girls in two straight lines. They left the house at half past 9:00 in two straight lines in rain or shine. The smallest one was Madeline. Fresh snow had fallen through the night. All of Paris was under white. The girls waited, shivering, at the gate. It wasn't like Miss Clavel to be late. Now what is that sound they hear? Something is amiss, I fear. Miss Clavel, it seems, has caught a cold. Now, let this narrative...Unfold."