ROXANE.
Dearest friend!
CYRANO.
But, it is nothing serious. Soon over.
(makes an effort to smile).
Quite well again now.
ROXANE (standing near him).
We each of us have our wound: I, too, have one, ever smarting; I feel it here, old though it be,
(placing her hand on her breast)
right here, beneath the time-worn letter on which can still be seen the trace of tears and blood!