- parture—all the letters having been dated earlier than
our last interview—I am hoping that by the time that you receive this letter the denouement of our tragic story will be at hand.
However that may be, I cry to you always with all the strength of my soul: Courage and perseverance!
My nerves often get the better of me, but my moral energy remains unshaken; it is to-day greater than ever.
Let us, then, arm our hearts against every feeling of anxiety or grief; let us conquer our sufferings and our miseries, so that we may see nothing before us but the supreme object—our honor, the honor of our children! Everything should be effaced by that.
Then, still, courage, my dear Lucie. I will sustain you with all my energy, with all the strength that my innocence gives me, with all the longing that I have, to see the light shine out, full, perfect, absolute, as it must shine, for our sakes, for that of our children, of our two families.
Good kisses for the dear little ones.
I embrace you as I love you.
Alfred.
3 June, 1895.
My dear Lucie:
Still no letters from you, nor from any one. Since my departure I have had no tidings of you, of our children, nor of any of the family.
You may have seen by my letters the successive crises through which I have passed. But for the moment let us forget the past. We will speak of our sufferings when we are happy again.
