It is the most awful tragedy that it has ever been given me to read, and instead of reading it, I must live it out, alas! Finally, be careful of your own self, my darling. You need all your health, all your physical vigor, if you are to bring to a successful end the task you have so nobly undertaken.
I embrace you and our poor darlings, of whom I dare not think.
A thousand kisses.
Wednesday, 4 o’clock, 26 December, 1894.
My Darling:
You ask me what I do all day long.
I think of you; I think of you all. If this consoling thought did not sustain me, if I could not feel through the thick walls of my prison the strengthening breath of your sympathy, I believe that I should lose my hold on reason and that despair would enter my soul. It is your love, it is the affection of you all, that gives me the courage to live on.
Me. Demange has just been here. He stayed some minutes with me. His faith in me is absolute; that also gives me courage.