"Never speak to him of me."
"Of what should I speak to him, if not of his duty? Until my dying day, he will hear my complaint, if he persists in his wicked passion."
"And what does he answer you?"
"Never a word about this subject."
"You see, then!"
"We do not know his thoughts. Those who are proud do not willingly tell them, and his sin must increase his pride. When we are far from the truth, our spirit of rebellion naturally feeds on our wickedness. But comfort yourself, Elizabeth. When it is a question in my letters of you and your children I know how to spare your pride. I only want to ensure his recollection, his remorse."
"Oh, his remorse!"
"He is asleep, perhaps, but he will awaken. Each of us has his hour, and particularly when we add to the numerous sorrows of life those of our own creation."
She added, more sorrowfully:
"I feel old age coming on. Every day I ask God to grant me the joy of seeing you reconciled before I die."