His coolness in the midst of the general emotion was horrible.
Peyrade unfolded the other letters.
"Oh, as for those," said Laurence, "they are very much alike.

You hear the will; you can now hear of its fulfilment.

In future I shall have no secrets from any one." 1794, Andernach.

Before the battle.
My dear Laurence,--I love you for life, and I wish you to know it.
But you ought also to know, in case I die, that my brother, Paul-Marie, loves you as much as I love you.

My only consolation in dying would be the thought that you might some day make my brother your husband without being forced to see me die of jealousy--which must surely happen if, both of us being alive, you preferred him to me.