me, have taken a child by each hand, and I should have gone to demand justice everywhere, without resting until the guilty wretches should have been unmasked. These means are "heroic," but they are the best means, for they come from the heart, and they appeal to the heart, to that sense of justice that is innate in each one of us, unless he is carried away by passion. They proceed from the strength given by innocence, from a duty to be fulfilled; and they know no obstacle. They are means worthy of a woman who asks only for justice for her husband, for her children.
It must not be said that in our century a wretch can with impunity crush the lives of two families.
Courage, then, dear Lucie, and act with resolution. Kisses to all. I embrace you with all my strength, and our dear, adored children.
Your devoted
Alfred.
Since the package of June last I have received neither books nor reviews. I thought that you would continue to send me books and reviews each month regularly. Think of my perpetual tête-à tête with myself. I am more silent than a Trappist Monk, in my profound isolation, a prey to sad thoughts, upon a lonely rock, sustaining myself only by the force of duty.
4 October, 1895.
My dear Lucie:
I have just received your dear letters of August, so impatiently waited for each month, and with them the letters of all the family. Always write long letters to
