After all, that preference seems natural, for he is, perhaps, more worthy of your love than I-- Marie-Paul.
"Here is the other letter," she said, with the color in her cheeks.
Andernach.

Before the battle.
My kind Laurence,--My heart is sad; but Marie-Paul has a gayer nature, and will please you more than I am able to do.

Some day you will have to choose between us--well, though I love you passionately-- "You are corresponding with _emigres_," said Peyrade, interrupting Laurence, and holding the letters between himself and the light to see if they contained between the lines any treasonable writing with invisible ink.
"Yes," replied Laurence, folding the precious letters, the paper of which was already yellow with time.

"But by virtue of what right do you presume to violate my dwelling and my personal liberty ?" "Ah, that's the point!" cried Peyrade.

"By what right, indeed!--it is time to let you know it, beautiful aristocrat," he added, taking a warrant from his pocket, which came from the minister of justice and was countersigned by the minister of the interior.