the dreams of one who suffers horribly! But what would you? All that is too horrible, too atrocious! It leads astray my reason, my faith in loyalty and rectitude, for there is a moral law that is above all things, above passion and hatred; it is the law that demands the truth always and in all things. And then when my thoughts turn back upon my past, upon my whole life, and then to see myself where I am now! Oh, then it is horrible! black night closes in upon my soul, and I long to shut my eyes, to think no more. It is in my thought of you, of our dear children, in my wish to see the end of this horrible drama that I find again the energy to live, to hold myself erect. These are my thoughts, these are my dreams, my dear and good Lucie, and it is in answer to your question that 1 have thus laid bare my soul. Know, then, that I suffer with you. that I live in your life, that our mental and moral tortures are the same, that they can have but one end—full light upon this sinister affair. Let us press on, then, toward this supreme end, active in every day, in every hour, with ferocious and unconquerable will, the conviction that overturns all obstacles. It is our honor that has been torn from us, and we must regain it. And now I am going to bed to try to rest my brain a little, or rather to try to dream of you and of our dear children. The 5th of April Pierre will be five years old. Be sure that on that day all my heart, all my thoughts, my tears, alas! also will have been of him, of you. And I close in wishing that you may soon announce to me the end of this infernal torture, and by embracing you with all my strength, as I love you.
Your devoted
Alfred.
